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#it's less of a crush and more of a sad dedication

t00thfull · 2 months

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separation for the sake of us

slowly, the ache will lessen. my stomach will stop turning over and over and my heart will slow down, it'll take a breath. my body will relax, and i'll be able to look you in the eye.

i will build distance, a step at a time. and eventually, i will be out of reach. you will be out of reach. it'll feel normal; the space between us, like every other friend. you'll be like every other friend.

nothing will be below the surface, nothing will lurk there, no monsters, no fish in the sea. i'll stop feeling this way, and things will get easier, and this ache will be gone.

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splatsvilles-fashionista · 9 months

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The appeal of One Piece

I know everyone's a bit sour on One Piece after the clown stunt tumblr pulled, but with the live-action series out and the anime popping off on social media, there's more eyes on this goofy pirate story than ever, and I've been dying to talk about it, so now's the time.

A lot of the conversation around One Piece is steeped in hyperbole, and it's hard not to be hyperbolic when you're talking about a work of almost unprecedented length and popularity. With that in mind, I wanna try to explain what makes One Piece so good in a way that is concise, spoiler-free, and that will give you an idea if this might actually be a story you'll enjoy.

And I do actually think a lot of people who would enjoy One Piece are currently writing it off, and I think a lot of the blame lies on assumptions people have about shonen as a genre. One Piece is no doubt a shonen, with young and teen boys as the primary demographic, but it is also first and foremost an adventure story about a group of quirky outcasts setting out to follow their dreams, despite (or often in spite of) the crushing weight of reality.

But you can't have an adventure story without a world to set that adventure in, and what a world Eiichiro Oda has crafted. One Piece manages to feel like it has fully realized an entire planet, with every island we travel to having a very distinct sense of culture and visual identity. A lot of care has gone into building the history and politics of these places, and the mechanics by which their more out-there elements, like the sky-high ocean geyser or the mountain with an upside-down waterfall, function. As such, it is a setting that afford its story a lot of variety, while also being able to tackle a lot of very heady topics like authoritarianism, racism, and abuse in intelligent, nuanced ways.

But just as important as all of islands we visit are the wonderful characters we meet. A lot of people aren't into One Piece's exaggerated cartoon aesthetic, and I respect that, but it does lend itself to a lot of very unique faces and body types that make its cast of 1000+ characters a joy to behold. This is admittedly less true of the more conventionally attractive women, many of whom look very similar, but this is does not extend to their writing. Oda is very good at imbuing his characters with life, pulling on their histories to give them personalities and quirks that are often as funny as they are sad. Everyone I know that reads One Piece has a side character that they stan hardcore for, be it the lovable klutz Donquixote Rocinante or the petulant ghost girl Perona.

And all of this is especially true for our protagonists, the Straw Hat Pirates, each one of which is a deep, multifaceted character whose drive and dreams can be traced back to their often heartbreaking origins. I know I mentioned it at the top already, but at its core, One Piece is ultimately a story about a group of hurt, lonely individuals who find in each other not just friends, but a family that will support and protect them as together they chase their dreams in the face of a world whose systems have been built to squash them underfoot.

All of this is brought together by Oda's exceptional artistic skill. While as mentioned earlier, One Piece's cartoony artstyle isn't for everyone, it's by no means an accident. One Piece is a story set in a cartoon world, and Oda is able to give even his most ridiculous characters and places a tangible sense of physicality, making everything feel real within the confines of the page. While Oda has a team of assistants to help him, he still does the brunt of the art himself, and his dedication to his craft means the comic is full of panels that are breathtaking in their complexity and visual density.

But it's not just his technical skill that makes the art of One Piece so good, it's that Oda is also very good at letting his art speak for him. Compared to a lot of other big shonen manga, One Piece doesn't lean as heavily on the dialogue to give the readers all the necessary information, but can convey a lot of what is happening and how characters are thinking and feeling through its artwork. There's some sections where this doesn't hold as true (and they are frequently less well-liked as a result) but it makes One Piece a far lighter read than its soon to be 1100 chapter-count would make you believe.

But the thing I think makes One Piece the most exceptional of all, and what makes me recommend it despite its length, is that as a story, One Piece has a remarkable clarity of vision. One Piece has a stance and a worldview that it does not waver on, and it is present from the very beginning. It's is romantic story, about the power of faith and dreams, about people's right to be free and be who they want to be, and about how the beauty and wonder of the world makes its worth its danger and uncertainty.

One Piece knows what it wants to be from the very beginning, and because of that you don't have to wait for it to get good. A problem that a lot of longform media struggles with is that the opening hours are a slog to get through, because it doesn't show you its hand early enough for you to know if it's something you'll like, and that is not a problem One Piece has. It is exactly what it is going to be from the beginning, only in a simpler, cruder form that it is going to expand upon to become the sprawling pirate fantasy epic it has grown to be. This clarity of vision also makes One Piece very rewarding for attentive readers, as it frequently hints at future places and characters, and plants story seeds that it pays off hundreds of chapters later. It does a lot to make the world feel big and interconnected, and makes One Piece very fun to re-read as you pick up on things you missed the first time around.

It is frequently recommended that new readers start with the initial 100 chapters, the East Blue saga (which is what the live action series adapts, for the record), to see if One Piece is right for them, and that's the note I am going to end this post on, as well. East Blue uses its 100 chapters to tell a fairly self-contained story that introduces the first half of the core cast, setting the stakes and building its world while giving you plenty of interesting places, bizarre creatures, and wacky action all the while. It is One Piece showing you its hand, with the promise that if you like what you see, it'll have so, so much more in store for you

#one piece #one piece manga #one piece live action #opla #not splatoon

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astrhoeluvr · 1 year

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Astrhoe Observations Pt.6🫂🥰🫶🏻

(I’m back with another one😘)

Back to 👉🏻 my materialist 👁️🫦👁️.

a lil disclaimer : these are just my personal observations, so don’t take any of them to heart🥳.Some could be applicable to you and some would differ, so take all of them with a grain of salt OKIE! enough of me blabbing let’s get on with it🫶🏻🥰

👕🖤: Venus in the 8th house 🤝🏻 wearing baggy clothes!

🛒🛍️: Moon in the 2nd house, bestie how many items do you have in your shopping cart?👀😘

🛁🫧🔥: Scorpio/ Aries placements would prefer taking an extremely hot shower 🥵🥵🥵. They’re the ones who’d literally take a shower in blazing hot water😭😭🙏🏻 like?? Must be all that Martian energy phew 😮‍💨

🧿♏️🍀♓️: A lot of water placements, especially Pisces and Scorpios are into astrology. Most of the people who are into astrology could have at least one of these placements 🥰🤔 how many water placements do y’all have??? Lmk in the comments 😘

🎨🤫: Venus in the 8th house could also indicate hiding your beauty, talent or artwork🫣👩🏻‍💻🖼️🎭. People with this placement could have social media accounts dedicated to their art work/ fan edits or blogs but would never use their actual name or in general not put out any of their personal information!!🕵🏻🤫🤐 But nonetheless the work the put out is nothing less than phenomenal. Will definitely catch your eye and you will naturally want to know more about this individuals work🤩.

🧠🧐: I’ve noticed people with earth signs in the 3rd house could have such good memory 😳.

🗣️😳😮: Uranus in the 3rd house could mean the native is down to talk about anything and everything🧐😭. Aliens, conspiracy theories, fantasise, kinks, any absurd or mind boggling questions, YOU NAME IT👽👾💭🤨😭such amusing people istggg.

But if Uranus is aspecting Saturn/ Mars or Pluto, the native could become highly defensive and rigid with their thoughts,beliefs and morals and outcomes could highly differ 🥲😦

🧐😋💞: Wherever your 3rd house ruler is placed could indicate what you like talking about the most.🗣️

Eg. having your 3rd house ruler in the 6th house could indicate talking a lot about your pets, or your daily routine (makeup/skincare/ after school etc) 🐶🐱💄🧼🫧or having your 3rd house ruler in the 8th house could mean you could genuinely enjoy talking about taboo,mystical and occult related stuff😳🧙🏻‍♀️🧚🏻‍♀️ and could also mean that you wouldn’t shy away from topics related to any seggsual stuff🤩😈.

👺🥴: Mars/Venus in the 8th house 🤝🏻 people constantly staring at you😀😀. my god it must be so annoying👎🏻 like you could just be eating something and people would be eyeing you like “👁️👁️”.

🎶👨🏻‍🎤🎧👩🏻‍🎤: Pisces placements like to listen to specific playlists depending on their moods 🥲😍🤬.

For egs. If they’re feeling sad, they’d search up “sad songs/ heartbroken songs” 😭😭 or if they’re crushing on someone they’d look up “I think im in love or pov : you have a hopeless crush” and end up fantasising their asses away😭😭📸📸.

Okay that’s all for today luvs🫶🏻🥰

(Please do not copy or plagiarise any of my work <33)

- san✨🍵🪴📖🧘🏻‍♀️

#astrology #astrology observations #astro notes #astronomy #birth #energy #mars #birth chart #slay #zodiac #my notes #scorpio #venus signs #beauty #anime #astro #astro community

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kodaiki · 2 years

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the broken hearts club.

summary: who knew a mere crush on your high school best friend could be so destructive in the end?

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k

genre/cw: pining (seriously, severe one side pining), best friend!iwa, angst (no fluff), naive!reader, reader who doesn’t set boundaries, memory-style fic (lots of flashbacks n past tense), college!au, (mentioned)high school!au, ft. oikawa, mentions of makki & mattsun.

a/n: dedicated to bby @apricunts bc this has been in my drafts forever </3333

knock, knock, knock.

you rub at your eyes, whether it was to push the fatigue or still festering sadness, it’s not clear, as you tread from your bedroom in the direction of your apartment's front door. your feet pad quietly against the hardwood floors as your arms wrap around yourself from the chill summer night air coming in from the open window of your living room that you forgot to shut before heading to bed.

approaching the door with a perplexed expression, you raise slightly on your tiptoes to look through the peephole but it's too dark in the hall – you really need to talk to your landlord about that broken automatic light – to see who's there.

you pray it's not some sort of stalker or murderer knocking on your door, and decide to pull it open with a tired, “hello?”

it's after midnight, though, so who the hell is knocking on my door at this time?

maybe it's ms. kim from the apartment above yours who lost her cat again and she's wondering if she'd snuck into your place through the fire escape, an event that never actually happened but she claims to have.

it was an annoying instance at best, having the woman appear at the strangest hours of the day, whether it be midnight or at the crack of dawn, worrying about her cat. although, you did understand on a certain level, caring for an animal companion and being worried of their safety, ultimately you were usually bothered.

“y/n.” the deep, gravelly, familiar voice is what makes your eyes spring open and you snap your neck up to meet the eyes of the subject on the other side of the doorframe.

“what’re you doing here?” you ask coldly, demeanor immediately shifting as you bring your hand up to clasp the door and begin shutting it. “go home.”

“wait, no, y/n.” the man on the other side of the door, iwaizumi hajime, easily braces the impact of the door shutting on him by holding out his arm, one much stronger than yours, and preventing it from closing. “will you please hear me out?”

curse his strength, really, you can't help but think with an eye roll.

“what on earth makes you think i should?” your eyebrows furrow in frustration and the tiredness your mind and body feel don’t help your mood as you stare daggers at the frowning man.

you’re broken, you believe.

and you blame the man in front of you for it.

“i... i-” he’s at a loss for words, evident by his stammering. the flush of his cheeks – wait, did he run here? nevermind, that doesn’t matter– deepens as he struggles to find the words.

but you don’t let him.

“how many times are you going to put me through this, huh?” you ask, humorless chuckle bubbling in your throat. “you want me one day, the next i’m a friend and and until now, i’m a stranger you couldn’t care less about. pick a damn dynamic and stop playing with me, iwaizumi.”

you’re exhausted at this point. tired of the game iwaizumi has you playing. though, it not very fair when he’s the one playing you.

it's a cat and wand game, you think. iwaizumi’s the one holding wand, dangling the fun colored stick with feather and beads hanging off it in front of you as you try to grasp at it; but you’re never able to, since iwaizumi pulls the wand out of sight before you have the chance.

that’s how your … relationship? friendship? that’s how whatever the hell you had was.

it wasn’t a secret that you had a thing for the guy — your mutual friend, oikawa liked to call it a lot more than a thing, sometimes chanting that you were indeed in love with his best friend to which you'd quickly yelp for him to shut up in case he heard him.

but the truth is, you could never have iwaizumi.

that much he made obvious.

you started off as friends, you recall, meeting in high school and living on the same block. when your mother met his, as embarrassing as it is to say, he was coerced into walking to you home in fear for your safety when you had after school clubs that ended rather late.

and iwaizumi always obliged. because he was a good guy.

fast forward to your last year of high school, and meanwhile your friendship developed into a best friendship, you’d also developed quite the crush on the guy. and ... well, it was sorta obvious; your cheeks were always flushed around him and you smiled more than anyone ever saw at school.

he never voiced it if he noticed, though. sometimes during high school, you wondered if iwaizumi himself were so oblivious to your feelings but where you stand now, you believe he simply ignored your feelings.

that didn’t stop him from indulging it though, did it?

he bought you lunch, invited you over to his house with oikawa or his other friends from the volleyball team that were in your year. he made you part of his group; it was out of mere convenience: the formation of a friendship solely because it was so easy to.

"hey doofus," he'd greeted, approaching you at lunch, while you picked at the jello cup you'd bought from a vending machine since you inconveniently forgot your bento at home. "have some of mine."

he plops half a sandwich onto a napkin in front of you before sliding into the cafeteria seat across from yours.

"thanks," you'd murmured, hiding the flush of your cheeks as you stared down at his offering.

"do i need to start packing an extra bento for you now?" iwaizumi asked, amused tone filling his voice, and he leaned forward to ruffle the hair atop your head. "i think this is the second time this month."

"shut up!" you fired back as he laughed at your forgetfulness. still, the gesture warmed your heart, evident by the darkness of your cheeks.

it meant much more to you than it meant to him, you conclude, looking back at the smiles you shared in those hangouts with a bitter taste in your mouth.

things started to change when your friends, other girls from your class or clubs, became involved. iwaizumi – and oikawa, since he was sort of a celebrity at your school – were suddenly in your own personal friendships. you believed it was for the latter’s sake and your friends, who had an utter crush on the man as every other girl at your school did. but now thinking back at it, the former had a hand in that, too.

iwaizumi dated your closest friend at the time. funnily enough, she was the only friend you'd blatantly told about your crush on iwaizumi, something she claimed to have supported and shipped with her whole heart.

so to hear about their relationship maybe a month later? stung to say the least.

she'd said he confessed to her, something iwaizumi later confirmed, and admitted that amidst your own rambling about the spiker, she'd developed a crush as well and couldn't say no.

you think that was the first time iwaizumi unknowingly broke your heart. of course, your close friend did, too, and you chose to break off the friendship, something which she unsurprisingly didn't mind since she got what she wanted in the end. so why couldn't you let go of iwaizumi? well, it wasn't his fault he had feelings for someone else.

you blamed yourself for your own sadness, however, scolding yourself that you never came clean about your feelings for him so how was he supposed to know? additionally, you were the one who didn't want to tell him in the first place in fear of ruining your friendship if your feelings weren't reciprocated.

when they began dating, you were no longer prominent in his mind. to put it bluntly, he forgot about you. you were left at the school doors receiving texts that he’d already left to walk your friend home, apologizing with some sad emoticon as if he truly cared. no longer were you invited to hang out like you used to, maybe seeing him in passing in the hallways at school and greeting each other with distant waves.

when he did see you in school for more than a few seconds though, maybe in between classes on a break that he wasn't spending with her or when she was busy, all he could do was talk about her.

"y/n, you don't even get it, she's like, the best," he'd gushed one day as he scribbled down notes for your upcoming anatomy exam.

"yeah?" you muse rather dryly, attempting to zone out during these sorts of comments. it's not exactly easy hearing the guy you like talk about the girl he's dating, so ignoring it was the next best option.

"definitely, she made me brownies last week? i think i finished them in a day. god, she's a great baker. did i mention her parents own a bakery? we go there after school all the time and ..."

and he went on and on, unaware of the frown on your face when he's not looking, nor the forced smile when he happened to meet your gaze with his.

but they eventually broke up ... and dynamics changed again.

suddenly, iwaizumi was back in your life, sitting next to you at lunch, exchanging words as if no time had passed.

and stupidly, you forgave whatever feelings he’d caused you. because he was a good guy! he didn’t actually mean to hurt you, he probably didn’t even know!

he was more forward than ever before, even breaching the line of flirting with you. your hangouts weren’t explicitly called dates but they sure as hell felt like it: the charming smiles your way, the smooth words about how pretty you were, the brushing of hands when walking beside each other, it was too much to debate…

"your hair is up today," iwaizumi'd observed, looking over at you for more than a glance as you walked down the familiar streets leading to your neighborhood.

"yeah, the weather's too warm to keep it down."

"it's nice, i like it."

five simple words, just five words, and they made your stomach do somersaults. you started wearing your hair up more often, with the mere hope that your friend may have commented (maybe complimented) again about it.

soon enough, he was initiating the skinship with you, tucking hair behind your ear when it fell while you did homework together. he grasped your hand when you were walking too slow for him on your way to or back from school. it became so normal that before you knew it, you didn't realize it was almost couple behavior. well, not until that talk.

"you haven't kissed anyone?" iwaizumi had gaped, sitting up from his relaxed position on your bed as he scrolled on his phone.

you'd been sitting at your desk, working on a project while iwaizumi kept you company, throwing off ideas for suggestions.

"nope," you answered embarrassedly, cheeks flaring at the fact. you were in your last year of high school, surely it should've happened by now. well, it's tough when the guy you want to kiss is only your closest guy friend and you're too afraid to ruin the friendship. "you must know that, what other guys do i hang out with?"

"my teammates," he said bluntly with a shrug.

"you think i'm snogging with oikawa or something?" you couldn't help but laugh at the disgusted expression of his face.

"no! i dunno ... maybe makki or mattsun."

"no way." your laughter fell to a giggle. "it is sorta embarrassing though."

"not really."

"is, too!" you spun on your chair to face him. "imagine how embarrassing it'll be in college and someone asks me about my first kiss and i'll have to say it hasn't happened yet!"

"doesn't matter," iwaizumi shakes his head. "first kisses don't really mean much."

"really?" you murmur, frown forming on your face. "i want my first kiss to mean something."

"you're so sappy." he rolls his eyes. "but i mean nobody cares about first kisses. you can lie if anything and just say you kissed someone in high school.

"haji, you know i'm a bad liar."

"fair enough." he takes a long sigh and glances around your room. "kiss me then."

you did a double-take at that, first instinct saying you misheard him and you sputter, "w-what did you say?"

he shrugs, ignoring your horrified expression. "kiss me then, get it over with so you can tell your future boyfriend that you did have your first kiss and it won't be so embarrassing."

"that's not funny," you huff, looking away from him as a pout forms on your face.

"i'm not joking!" he laughs. "it's just an offer, you can reject it if you want."

you pause at that, peeking over at him through your periphery, and noticing his truthful, yet all the same nonchalant expression, you seriously think about it.

oh, how wrong of a choice this was.

having your first kiss be your best friend friend you have feelings for meanwhile he believes he'd just do you a favor saving you from embarrassment.

"you'd do that?"

"i'm your best friend, ain't i?"

you should've say no, you really should've.

"okay."

you remember his lips were soft, melding against yours and guiding you through most of it due to your lack of experience. and damn, was he a good kisser. you expected a mere peck, something that lasted maybe a few seconds, not the make out session it turned out to be that lasted minutes. by the time you separated, you'd both had flushed cheeks and swollen lips, laughing afterward about the bizarreness of it all.

alas, you fell harder than before. the crush grew into a deeper emotion, maybe grazing the concept of love, but you never got to explore that feeling further with him.

iwaizumi got another girlfriend.

the second heartbreak, all by the doing from the same man as the first. surely, you looked too deeply into things? you were reaching for signs that he liked you back and it was actually truly platonic everything he was doing and saying before?

you felt like an idiot.

once more, your lunch table was left with you at it, maybe some friends from your classes, but no iwaizumi. your walks were lonely again as were the shared chat messages with him, having days or weeks pass before a new text chain.

you remember calling yourself stupid while hot, angry tears rolled down your cheeks. yourself! you blamed yourself for the heartache you felt.

you barely remember their relationship, facing iwaizumi's avoidance once again, but this time ten-fold. maybe you also played a role in avoiding him, too, far too afraid to face him while he looked so lovesick; too afraid you'd simply burst into tears.

you all soon graduate. iwaizumi decided to go abroad to the united states, a decision not agreed with by his girlfriend, leading to their inevitable breakup.

a few days into the first semester of your college experiences, iwaizumi texted you.

9:12 A.M. [hajime :3] hey y/n 9:12 A.M. [you] why aren't u asleep? isn't it like 1am there? 9:14 A.M. [hajime :3] couldn't sleep 9:15 A.M. [hajime :3] i miss u :(

here we go again …

you struggle with the long distance friendship only slightly, your biggest enemy being the time difference. but voice memos and scheduled texts are a best friend in those times of need. you wake to sweet morning messages from your former friend, recalling his day and wishing you a better one.

you don’t remember how you were so willingly open to begin a friendship with iwaizumi again, let alone while he’s in another country.

maybe he’d come to his senses?

no.

iwaizumi hajime was afraid of being alone. he’d keep anyone around to just to keep that from happening. so when he went abroad to a new place with no one he knew, it’s only obvious he’d reach out to you, the girl too naive to say no to him.

in november, he ghosts you.

you receive no messages, no facetime calls, nothing. it was as if he disappeared. you were worried for him at first, unsure if he lost or broke his phone. until you see his instagram story as see he’s been hanging out with a new group of people.

oh, so once again, he found his new home of a friend group, becoming comfortable in the new country he was a adjusting to.

it was that moment when you realized you were a filler person. the buffer between his phases, his friends, his girlfriends. his team was his core, he couldn't take them for granted and return when he wanted to, he simply couldn't do that. you though, someone who looked at him like he hand placed all the stars in the galaxy, he could.

during his times of loneliness, needing any distraction, you were it. the distraction; the temporary fix while he healed or was in search for someone new.

no tears spill over your cheeks when you come to the realization. your eyes, brimmed with tears as you stare in fury at that damn group picture with him and strangers you decide you loathe for no good reason, redden as you suck it up and refuse to let them fall.

iwaizumi returns to japan for summer break, expecting to reunite with his old best friends and have the summer of his life before returning back to school for the fall semester.

just a few weeks earlier, oikawa had texted you about a group dinner they (they being him with the addition of matsukawa and hanamaki) were going to in reuniting with their old teammate and friend.

given all that’s happened, you pass on the offer.

“huh?” oikawa had sounded into the phone when he calls you in confusion at your response. if anything, he’d think you’d be the most excited for iwaizumi to come home.

“tell him welcome home from me,” you mumbled out, promptly ending the call with no explanation. no 'i'm busy,' no 'aw i'm sorry i can't make it!'

just 'no thanks.'

oikawa isn’t stupid, though. he quickly pieced your past the best he could from being a third person party looking in on you and iwaizumi's friendship, in addition to your tired tone. you’d gone through enough, so he really doesn't blame you. therefore, he doesn't beg or try to talk you into going, that'd just be unfair to you.

that dinner was tonight, the night you had no plans filling your evening, deciding to stay home at your college apartment, enjoying your own independence away from your family's home.

you saw the posts your friends, his fellow old teammates, had made, welcoming iwaizumi back home on their instagram stories, so the reminder just made you sad all over again; so sad that a man, a boy, could throw your heart for such a whirlwind, shredding your idea of love in your own mind.

iwaizumi, who's staring at his shoes quietly, finally breaks the silence with a small, "i'm sorry."

you can't help but scoff at that. "sorry? you're sorry?" you laugh again. "iwaizumi, go home." the name still feels foreign on your tongue, having been used to calling him by his first name for most of your friendship.

he looks up, panicked eyes boring into yours. "i didn't mean to hurt you! i swear, i was dumb and stupid a-and-"

"but you did," you cut him off and your tone has dropped considerably. you're exhausted. "goodbye, now. enjoy your summer."

"y/n, please!" he pleads exasperatedly, lurching forward in attempt to enter your apartment but your hand across the doorframe gives him a sign he's better off not.

you've never confronted him like this about your feelings. and maybe that was your fault for allowing yourself to be strung along this far. but at least you're holding your ground now.

"i tried going home, but god, the feeling of not seeing you at dinner. i just, i need you to-"

"to what?" your brows furrow deeper, anger seeping back into your body. "you need me to what? forgive you? call you hajime and pretend like you didn't break my heart countless times? get over it, iwaizumi. it's over. whatever this is, it's done."

"y/n," he trails off, shoulders falling into a slouch as his eyes widen in fear.

"you hurt me." your words cut through him like a knife, nothing but defensiveness and hurt lacing your tone. you ignore the wobble of your lower lip as you speak and push back the burning behind your eyes. "i loved you and you hurt me."

iwaizumi's face pales and he opened his mouth, though nothing comes out. you nod to yourself, reading his guilty expression.

"so go home and forget about me. it shouldn't be so hard since you've done it a few times already. good night." you take advantage of iwaizumi's frozen state, caught up in his own mind as he wracks his head for something to say, closing the door in front of him with a satisfying the thud. it'd be more satisfying if you were to slam it, but given you're a respectful tenant, aware of your neighbors and what time it is, a polite door shut is enough.

and as you walk back to your bedroom, shoulders shaking from the sobs you've kept in all night, all you can think is:

you wish it were ms. kim nagging about her damn cat that was at the other side of the door.

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amphibiousmercurial · 20 days

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The words he never wrote about me

Of loneliness, deaths and Old age

There’s a starkness to the memory of him lying in that hospital bed, motionless, that digs at me. A starkness in the cold, antiseptic smell of the room that's hard to forget, an image that keeps replaying whenever I close my eyes. It was more than just saying goodbye—it was a preview of mortality, served cold and unadorned. The last time I saw him, there was no hint of the person who had lived so vibrantly. Just a shell, a reminder of how quickly everything can end. That shit is terrifying, not peaceful or contemplative—just raw, unfiltered fear.

Then came the wake, and with it, the letter. My aunt's voice carried across the room, reciting his thoughts and memories—a roll call of everyone who touched his life. Friends, neighbors, even the house help were honored for their dedication. But me? There was nothing. Silence where my name should have been. It felt like being invisible in a crowded room, unheard amid the chatter. He recounted everyday trivialities, yet completely omitted his own granddaughter. As she continued, a cold realization settled in my stomach: in the vast narrative of his life, I was merely an oversight, an empty space he inadvertently skipped over. It wasn't intentional, but that almost made it worse. The inadvertent omission cut deep, a stark, raw pain that echoed with the silence of my unspoken name.

The next day, my aunt lost it—her grief manifesting in a spectacular meltdown that turned into a twisted family spectacle. Plates smashed, voices raised. Grief, I’ve learned, isn’t pretty. It’s not solemn or dignified; it’s messy, it’s loud, it’s desperately human. Her breakdown, obnoxious as it felt, was just another expression of pain, another way to lash out at the world that ripped him from us. It showed me that there’s no right way to deal with the void someone leaves behind. It’s all just clawing at whatever can keep us above the surface.

And then there’s my grandmother. Every day, she sits by the window, staring out at a world she seems less and less a part of. There’s a loneliness to her silhouette that’s crushing. To think of her and my granddad, partners for over sixty years, and now she’s just... alone. Watching her is a gut punch, a brutal reminder that sometimes love isn’t enough to stave off the solitude that creeps in with old age. It’s not just sad; it’s terrifying. To see how easily a life shared can turn into solitary confinement—how can I not question everything I know about love and companionship? It makes me wonder about the futility of it all, about the inevitable decay of connections we hold dear.

This isn’t comforting. It doesn’t bring me peace. It scares the hell out of me. I'm left questioning the very fabric of relationships- what's the point if it can all evaporate, leaving one half alone to stare out a window? It makes the certainties of life feel like a farce.

Grief is a guillotine, sharp and final, hope is chronic bleeding, never clotting, always flowing.

So here I am, not finding solace in soft words or silver linings, but facing the raw, brutal truths head-on. Sometimes, we are forgotten, and it's not a gentle nudge but a slap. We scream into the void, not because we hope for an answer but because it's all we can do. I’m not writing this to tie it up with a neat bow, to say it's all part of a bigger plan or that there's a lesson to be learned. I'm writing because it hurts, because it's unfair, and because, despite everything, this is the only way I know how to make sense of the chaos.

Being overlooked in his final words doesn't bring me quiet dignity. It brings anger, confusion, and a deep, lingering pain. And I'm here, raw and unguarded, owning that pain, because it's mine, and it's real. And maybe, just maybe, by laying it all out, I can start to rise above these remnants of grief that are stuck in my throat.

To be left out of the story is to understand that we are all authors of our own, that we write not for the eyes of others, but for the sanctity of our souls.

Love.

#my blog #writeblr #dark academia #light academia #aesthetic #poets on tumblr #artists on tumblr #literature #writers on tumblr #essay #lonliness #love #heartbreaking 💔#letters

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moongothic · 5 months

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Okay, here goes. What's your ultimate Crocodad timeline? You can go as wild or as believable as you want.

I mean I made this timeline chart/post/thing.

But if you meant it in a more "how do you think things actually went down" specific kinda way, uhhhhh. Great question, not sure I know how to answer. Like. The possibilities on what could've happened and how are nearly endless and all those options are so interesting to me. Even if there's ideas I feel like might be more likely than others, or I find myself more invested in some ideas, I can't fully like, dedicate myself to any specific idea for a plot point or a storybeat or anything, especially if there's nothing to suggest if anything even remotely similar could've happened.

Like, say for example, how did Crocodile and Dragon meet? There's literally infinite ways they could've met, to the point I'm not even really that interested in speculating on it, because more likely than not, any guess I make will probably be wrong. Like speculating about something like that feels almost pointless. Compare that to say, how did Luffy end up in Garp's care? While we know like nothing about what exactly happened, we do have any theoretical information (ex: Garp and Croc should not know about each other, meaning there must've been a third party to deliver the baby, and it's more than likely that was Dragon) that we can get to much more specific when speculating about what might've happened. Like there's still plenty of options, but the options are far fewer, which makes the speculation so much more interesting, for me at least

But at the same time, I don't want to get too fond of any idea in because Oda could still prove me wrong and debunk it and I'd be sad if I got like fond of a concept and I ended up being dead wrong lmao

Mind you, for me, a big part of the reason I'm invested in the theory to begin with IS the possibility of it being canon. Like yes Crocodad would and always will make for fun AU fanfics regardless of if it's canon or not. But I am here to more or less speculate about canon.

So between my brain treating Crocodad as this monstrous, gigantic flow chart, and me not wanting to get too attached to any potential path on the chart... Yeah I don't know what to tell you anon, I'm sorry

Like. Just as an example. On how my brain processes this shit.

(Sidenote, this chart is like under the assumption that Croc and Dragon had mutually agreed that their child would be put in the care of Dragon's father. And while that makes the most sense to me by a long shot, technically it's totally possible Luffy was taken away from Crocodile by force by Dragon or something else) (THERE'S SO MANY POTENTIAL THINGS THAT COULD'VE HAPPENED, AHHHHHHH)

Like here, I think the most likely canon scenarios would be the "Respectful Rejection" followed by "Too Stunned To Speak -> It's Bad" routes, though personally I might be most interested in the "It Was Really Bad" route because it'd be really fucked up and sad

So like. Yeah. I have no idea what my "ultimate Crocodad timeline" would be, there's too much room for speculation to the point anything specific would leave the room of Neutral Canon Speculation and just turn into a plain old fanfic, and I'm just here for theorizing

But hey if you wanted a fanfic, here's a TL:DR;

(You know I say this is a TL:DR; but this got so fucking long it almost broke this post. Like Tumblr would not let me save the draft or post it anymore because there's a 4k character limit to "blocks", I had to break this into chunks man)

If Crocodile was betrayed by his crew after losing to Whitebeard and had to kill them himself in self-defence;

Who the fuck knows, maybe by some twist of fate our wounded/dying, exhausted and traumatized Crocodile drifted in the sea and his ship ran into Dragon, the man rescuing Crocodile from the kindness of his heart or something IDK

If the dude had to kill his own crew immidiately after Whitebeard crushed his hopes and dreams, Crocodile must've been just absolutely shell shocked. Depressed and withdrawn, just out of it. So maybe Dragon being there could've been great for Croc's mental state. Maybe. Big maybe.

If Crocodile did turn out to be the Rev Army's Secret Sugar Daddy then perhaps this is how that relationship kind of started: Crocodile could've paid Dragon in cash money as thanks for saving his life, and then just kept the money coming since Dragon had an army to run and needed the funds

(Like we don't know why Crocodile joined the Shichibukai anyways, but if it was only ever for The Benefits of not having to deal with the Marines chasing his ass anymore and if he didn't give a rat's ass about the Government... Like yeah, why not fund the Revolutionary Army, give money to the people trying to directly take down the fuckers while right under their noses.) (Who knows maybe Croc does have his own reasons for hating the WG and had like a genuine reason beyond just being a petty king and/or having basic human decency in understanding why the WG was corrupt and needed to be overthrown)

Thus begins a secret comradery where Crocodile every now and then goes and drops off some money to Dragon to help fund the Army, nobody on either side of the war any wiser (except maybe Iva-chan, they're allowed to be in on the secret, as a treat). It's their secret that they keep for years

Time passes

Whoopsie poopsie Crocodile's prégónánté

The two realize that their kid is going to be in so much danger for a pletora of reasons and that neither can raise the baby. Dragon knows his father would keep their baby safe and they both agree to leaving the child to him (not a happy decision, it's just for the best, for everyone's sake)

Anyway Crocodile's gender dysphoria goes into turbo mode during pregnancy. Maybe he never really realized it was there and/or what it was, but boy howdy, it's there now and it's really really bad. Like, if it wasn't for the baby he might just kill himself (and god knows once the kid is out and taken away, there's not going to be anything to stop him from doing just that)

Crocodile must've gone into hiding during the latter half of his pregnancy to keep it a secret from the Government, and I could totally imagine him being hellbent on being completely isolated. He is a Shichibukai, everybody knows him, he can't risk having even some random doctor recognize him and find out about the baby. Besides, it's not like he can do much while hiding anyways, like he might as well read 150 medical books to ensure he can deliver his baby by himself

(Sidenote but the narrator in OP has called Fuusha Village Luffy's "birth place" (think the term he used was "umereta machi", lit. "town he was born in"), and if that's true, then. Croc should've been hiding in and/or near Fuusha Village in Goa Kingdom. Additional sidenote, there are wild crocodiles in Goa, which are the Sir's favorite food.)

To avoid suspicion and the risk of being found out, Dragon might've agreed to not go see Crocodile during this time, only agreeing to see his significant other after the child was born so he could then deliver the baby to Garp (after not just leaving the Marines but also starting a fucking revolutionary army, the dude probably didn't want his father to find out he had been dating a fucking WARLORD)

But surely he'd think Crocodile was insane if he thought he'd let Crocodile deliver the baby alone. Like no, somebody needs to be there by his side. Someone Dragon could trust, a fellow Revolutionary perhaps. Oh yeah, just send Ivankov, what could possibly go wrong

(Personal headcanon but since we don't know when Ivankov got their Fruit, I kind of want to imagine they ate it just a short time ago at this point and that they hadn't fully realized the potential of the Hormone Fruit yet. Like their genderfluid ass may not have understood the power they now held)

Iva-chan did not know Croc was prénánté, whether Dragon told Ivankov ahead of time why they were being sent to check on Croc is up or debate (if Iva-chan was aware of Croc being their Secret Sugar Daddy though then I'm sure they understood why Dragon wanted and was willing to help out Crocodile in this situation). Croc and/or Dragon probably lied through their teeth about the father of the child if Iva-chan ever asked about it, and whatever Iva-chan was told they clearly bought it since they never knew about Dragon having a kid.

When Iva gets there though they can see right away that something is fucking wrong with Crocodile, in ways even he can't understand. He is so uncomfortable 24/7 for seemingly no reason. So naturally Iva-chan pokes and prods at the dumbass until Croc has a break down and explains his weird feelings he can't even word properly and this is how Emporio Ivankov discovered transgenderism

What's that? You don't like what pregnancy has done to your body, doesn't feel like it's yours anymore? You feel love for your child but don't want to be its mother? Good news, you can be its father instead. Bad news, gotta wait until the baby is farted out. Aren't sure about it? No worries, there's time to think about it, and shit's 100% reversible anyways. Just hang in there for a little bit longer, you may feel god awful rn but that too shall pass

(Maybe this is how Iva-chan starts calling Crocodile "Crocoboy", just to get him to warm up to the idea that he could be(come) a man, get used to it etc)

Crocodile has an identity crisis of a lifetime. Like either he knew since he was a small child that something was fucky wucky, or he never realized it until now, either way, he must not have even been aware of the idea that he could trans his gender (which would make sense if Ivankov only recently got their Fruit just sayin'). So yeah. Enjoy that gender crisis, dumbass

Like he straight up just goes through the five stages of grief before he's like "god dammit if it'll make me feel less like I'll kill myself then it's worth a shot, don't care what Dragon ends up thinking"

At some point Croc must've contacted Dragon at least one final time just so they can agree on when and where they'll meet to hand over the baby once it's born (if Croc doesn't die at child birth. I mean they both know he'll be fine, Croc's survived worse. But if something did happen, Iva-chan will take care of the baby until Dragon arrives)

This is One Piece. Luffy was born at dawn.

Crocodile probably insists on getting the T literally immidiately after the baby is out. If he doesn't just pass out immidiately after giving birth. But like within 24 hours of giving birth. Iva-chan is probably like "Crocoboy you're exhausted, chill, your cooch needs to recover" and he's just like "why wait for it to recover when you're going to get rid of it, just do it"

(Iva-chan probably goes and gets Croc some emergency clothes and like bottles and baby food etc because god knows he's going to burst out of his old clothes and he ain't gonna have the tiddies to breastfeed that baby either)

Anyway he gets the rones and gets to enjoy gender euphoria for the first time in his life. Happy times, happy tears, a happy croc

Dude probably nearly shits himself when he tries to speak as he is now voiced by Ryuuzaburo Fucking Ootomo (even Iva-chan is like "HOLY SHIT your voice dropped") (like they probably agressively try to encourage Crocodile to speak more and let them hear that voice and Croc is like "ssssshhhhhhhhh stop yelling you'll wake up the baby!!")

Anyway he finally gets to fucking rest and relax and enjoy the sheer relief of not just being free of his dysphoria but also his baby boy being born and looking all healthy and happy. A happy dad

(If Crocodile was the first person Iva-chan helped transition, and under these circumstances specifically. I think seeing the guy and his sheer relief would give like Iva-chan a new mission in life. To help people like Croc)

(Ivankov: "It's like a great weight has been lifted off your chest... GET IT, 'CAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE TITS ANYMORE! HEEHAW!!" / 🐊: "If you wake up the baby I will skewer you")

Anyway if the Rev Army member stays with Crocodile for too long there's a risk of them getting found out and that'd be bad, so Iva-chan needs to GTFO (they have better things to do, like overthrow some governments and stuff). Also Crocodile needs to prepare because he can't have the Government wondering where the fuck he's been all these months much longer (god knows explaining his sudden manliness is going to be enough to deal with) and the kid needs to go into hiding. If Iva-chan asks where the child is going, Croc probably won't give a straight answer, just that there's a plan and he needs Ivankov to keep the baby a secret etc (perhaps that could be the blackmail Iva-chan brought up in Impel Down 🤔)

Crocodile gets to spend a little time with his baby boy (before and/or after Iva-chan leaves). Crocodiles (the animals) look after their babies for three months before they're on their own, so at most he stayed with his baby for three months, though I'd argue just 3 weeks, simply because that'd a painfully short amount of time that's just perfect for tragic storytelling

Perhaps that was the happiest time of Croc's life. No stupid Government to deal with, no pirates to fight, no villages to pillage. Just him and his beautiful baby boy. Not even the knowledge of knowing he'd have to say goodbye to his son forever would get in the way of his happiness at that moment.

(Did he ever think about what to name the child? Maybe Dragon had wanted Crocodile to name their child and Crocodile was supposed to think of something while expecting, before the baby was born. Or maybe, knowing he would never see that child again (until the Government blows up) he could not bring himself to think of a name. It'd be Dragon's father who'd look after the baby anyways, Dragon should name him)

Dragon comes. Either exactly at the agreed upon time, or perhaps a day early (dude was too excited and wanted to be with his wife and child, together as a family, even if it was for a day). Whenever he arrives;

See the chart earlier in the post

However things go down, Dragon and Crocodile go their separate ways. Crocodile leaves the island immidiately.

Well. I certainly became absolutely deranged writing this.

HOPE YOU FOUND THAT ENTERTAINING

#Moon posting #OP Meta #Asks #Sir Crocodile #Crocodad #You gotta go down the post for a surprise :)#Look. I just like the idea that Ivankov helped deliver Luffy and has no fucking idea #They find out and have a fucking breakdown because THAT'S THE SWEET LITTLE BABY BOY THEY HELPED DELIVER. HE'S GROWN UP SO FAST

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enchantestuff · 2 years

Text

play pretend (i) - daniel ricciardo

summary: after having dealt with too much bad press, daniel needs something to get the journalists off his back for a few months - just until he returns to his normal sense - and that something seems to be a pretend relationship with you, his bosses daughter

not my gif!! but a fantastic one

warnings: swearing, mention of alcohol and partying, insinuates daniels going through a player phase, billionaires daughter!reader, fake dating, some flirting, the press are dicks to daniel, nicknames, fluff or at least my attempt at it

4.9k words

dedicated to the lovely @kaismason thank you for putting up with me

Walking through the F1 paddock, you said hello to everyone you recognised, stopping to speak to some drivers and smiling at people you had never seen before.

“Here she comes, the princess of McLaren,” you could hear Ted Kravitz speak from ahead of you, his cameraman walking alongside you, being careful not to trip over the numerous people walking by.

“And here he is, the prince of the paddock,” you smiled, giving a slight wave to the camera before it panned back to Ted. He was one of the few reporters you truly admired. He never made you feel ashamed for your upbringing and always announced his news in exciting and fun-filled ways. All in all, he made you smile.

“Looking as cheerful as ever, Y/N,” he commented, nodding his head at you as you passed. His microphone dangling in one hand and notebook glued to the other. Just like every other race weekend.

“Nothing to be sad about, Ted!” you hollered back, grin ever so present on your face. You entered the McLaren motorhome, thankful for the air conditioning blasting through the doors, granting your hot body some much-needed relief. The sun glared down your body all morning, sweat piling up on your forehand and down your back, which you assumed was noticeable considering a staff member handed you a cool water bottle before you even had the chance to search for one.

Nobody questioned why you were at McLaren hospitality. Your face had become familiar in the area long ago, with your father partially owning the team - having been brought down from generation to generation.

Being the daughter of a billionaire was everything people imagined it to be. You had the freedom to do whatever you liked, enough money to indulge in hobbies others could only dream of, and you were even in the position to give back to the world. Sure, the press you dealt with on the daily was sometimes less than friendly, but you were in no right to complain about them when others had more pressing matters to deal with.

But more specifically, being the daughter of a billionaire who owned an F1 team was even better.

Growing up, you were constantly surrounded by Formula one, its cars and drivers. You had attended more races than you could count, standing proudly alongside your father, showcasing his team on your too-large t-shirt. Your regular visits to the paddock - and not to mention your father’s heavy involvement in the sport - led you to grow a real passion for it from a very young age.

As an adult, nothing had changed. You still spent all your free time at the paddock, so much so that it felt like a home from home. You were comfortable there. At ease.

That is why, whilst walking through the McLaren hospitality, you didn’t even budge when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you towards a more secluded area of the corridor. Upon steading yourself, you looked up at your capturer, wondering who needed to talk to you so desperately.

Bewilderment and shock flowed through your veins when you registered that Daniel Ricciardo had taken hold of you. One of the very few McLaren employees you had rarely spoken to. Not for any particular reason, except maybe because you had a massive crush on him.

“Well, isn't this a lovely surprise,” you smiled, your desperate need to please people kicking in as you spoke to the driver, the driver that you had practically begged your father to hire, “if you needed to speak to me, you could’ve just asked,” you commented, making sure to keep your friendly smile plastered on your face.

From merely glancing at Daniel, you could tell he was nervous. Nails picking at skin, feet hitting against each other as he willed for the confidence to just speak his mind. It put you at ease knowing you weren’t the only one with butterflies swarming your stomach.

“This felt like the most efficient approach,” Daniel lazily smiled, clearly not interested in indulging in small talk and instead deciding to rip the bandaid off, “I have a favour to ask of you.”

“I’m all ears, Ricciardo,” you replied, suddenly aware of the awkward tension that had just surrounded the two of you. Why was it whenever you spoke to a man you liked, you suddenly turned into your father with all his stupid phrases. I’m all ears? You were already scolding yourself for that one.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend,” Daniel muttered, words quickly spewing out of his mouth, almost bunching into one, but you had heard him loud and clear.

Whatever you had expected from him, it certainly was not that.

“Come again?” you beckoned because, although you had heard him correctly - judging by the painfully embarrassing look crossing his features - you still needed him to elaborate. For your sanity more than anything else.

“I know, I know it-” he sighed, his hand rubbing down his face, tired eyes looking at you once again, “it’s a stupid idea, but I don't know what else to do.”

“You don’t know what else to do?” you questioned, confusion laced in your words, practically begging Daniel to clear the haze in your mind, to explain himself properly.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, you’ve seen the headlines!”

Ah yes. You were very familiar with those. Daniel had been the hot topic for media outlets these past few months, although it wasn’t for the reasons one would hope. Pictured with booze and different girls draped from his arm wasn’t a good look, especially when it continued to happen.

Your father had thrown a fit when the first article slamming Daniel’s “boyish ways” was written. Although he didn’t tell the driver personally, he was very disappointed by the tarnishment of Daniel’s name rather than McLarens.

However, everyone knew, deep down, why Daniel had gone down this road. They were understandable, considering the circumstances. Even though your father had nothing but respect for the Aussie driver, the rest of the McLaren management had some distaste for him. Now those were the people who didn’t understand that their harsh words and unfair actions were the things that had driven Daniel to drown his sorrows in alcohol and girls.

When headlines had shifted from Daniel’s lack of progress in the team to his affiliation with alcohol and women, his results at Mclaren seemed to improve. You, and the many people around you, had come to realise that Daniel didn’t mind the invasion of his privacy - he seemed to prefer people critiquing his personal choices rather than his career ones - either way, although he was performing the way you, and your father, knew he could, the headlines were still nothing to be proud about.

“What do the headlines have to do with this?”

“I need them to focus on another part of my life so I can fix it,” he groaned, clearly distraught with the situation, “First they slammed my driving performance this year, and the minute they started critiquing my partying habits - my driving improved. Cant you see it's connected?”

Your heart broke for him, you could see he was grasping at straws but maybe he had a point. If they started pestering him about a different part of his life, maybe he could fix the bad habits he had acquired.

“So you want them to focus on something else? Something fake?”

You knew then and there you would agree. It was hard not to with a distressed Daniel pleading with you

“Give me your phone number.”

“Michael,” you hollered upon spotting Daniel’s other half, surprised you managed to catch him away from the Aussie driver. Michael, recognising your voice, quickly pivoted from where he stood on the opposite side of the garage, “I have a favour to ask of you,” you spoke, repeating Daniel’s words from earlier, internally rolling your eyes at the irony.

You and Daniel had texted the entire day, while you were trying to organise a plan for the next four months - from his belief, it would only take four months for the press to back off - Daniel was helpless.

When you had asked him when he was free, he told you Michael was in charge of his calendar. When you had asked him where he wanted to meet to further discuss your pretend relationship, he told you he was happy with whatever you wanted.

He was driving you insane and you hadn't been on one date yet.

“Anything,” Michael replied, unsure of what he could help you with but willing to do so.

“I’m going to need to borrow Daniel’s calendar,” you explained, wrangling your hands together. Yes, this was a strange ask, but you didn’t feel the strange look he threw your way was warranted. “Just for a few hours, I promise! I’ll give it back to you as soon as possible - tomorrow at the latest!” You were practically out of breath from explaining yourself to him. Why couldn’t Daniel be responsible enough to manage his calendar? Why did he have to make things awkward and insist you get it from Michael instead of just retrieving it from his best friend himself.

“Right,” Michael nodded, visibly trying to rake his brain for reasons you would need the drivers’ calendar and yet, coming up empty-handed, “Can I ask why?”

Fuck, now you had to think on the spot. Think of something that would be believable. Something plausible.

“I’m organising an event for the company,” you hurriedly spat out. It would do. “And I just want to be 100% sure on a date both the drivers can attend; you know how hectic their schedules can be!”

How many times could you plaster a fake smile onto your face?

“Another charity event?” Michael happily asked, “The last one raised a lot of money, didn't it? And from what I remember of the night - it was very successful,” Michael laughed.

Relief flooded your veins, you had honestly forgotten about that event but you were happy with how easily he believed your lie.

“Yes, exactly!” you agreed.

“I sure hope I'm going to be invited too.”

What was once a lie has now turned into a reality. Now you had a charity event to plan alongside pretending to be Daniel's girlfriend. You now cursed the times you had complained about your free schedule.

“Yes, of course! It won't be for a few more months though, need to figure out when everyone is free,” you explained. He nodded along to your words, rummaging through the backpack at his side and pulling out what you could only assume was Daniel's calendar.

“Let me know if you need any help organising it, Y/N, id love to be a part of it.

You were going to kill Daniel for making you lie to this man.

“Wow, you’re taking this seriously,” Daniel remarked, looking at the calendar you had made and set down on the table he was sitting at. The calendar detailing the progress of your soon fake relationship, which he looked at with pure fascination. Several dates had been circled and marked with numbers, and others had been underlined with a red marker, showcasing their importance. Very few squares in the calendar remained blank.

“All this time, it felt like my business degree was going to waste-”

“You have a business degree?” he pondered, pure amusement laced in his voice. He hadn’t known that you went to college. He hadn’t even realised he knew so little about you; except that his boss was your father. Something that had majorly put him off speaking to you since joining the team. Looking back on it, it seems like a very stupid reason to avoid you.

“Save the personal questions for our first date,” you remarked. The smile was still to leave your face, excitement bubbling through your body with the prospect of a new project keeping you busy for the next few months. Or perhaps it was the prospect of spending the next few months with Daniel.

You made yourself believe it was the former. It had to be.

Daniel’s laugh boomed across the outside seating area, catching the interest of some of the media who had ventured closer to take a picture of the two of you.

You had been smart when you picked this area as a meeting point and were well aware of it. If just one reporter happened to mention you were having breakfast with Daniel - something that didn’t happen regularly - merely one photo snapped of the two of you having dinner the next day would spark rumours. The stories would practically write themselves. All you have to do is keep the facade going for a few more months.

“Which, from what you’ve planned in this calendar, is tomorrow? Moving fast there, princess,” he remarked, dragging his finger across the date that marked your inevitable break up. Four months. Exactly what he had told you. So then why did a sudden pit emerge from his stomach?

“Just can’t wait to start dating me?” he teased, a grin easily finding its way onto his face, almost like second nature.

“Yes, I stole your calender from Michael, who, by the way, needed a lot of persuading to hand over that beloved item, which also means your forced to help me organze a charity event “ you shook your head, “anyways, we’re both in Monaco tomorrow, so it’s the perfect time to get it started,” you smiled proudly at him. “What’s the need to wait?”

“How come you’re in Monaco?” he questioned, curious to know more about the life of the person he was to be fake dating for the next few months. Wondering why he knew so little about you. Why it had taken him so long to approach you. To indulge in a conversation with you.

Eyebrows furrowed, you couldn’t help but laugh at his question, almost 100% sure you had bumped into him on a random street at one stage during the winter break. “I live there,” you confirmed, bearing witness to the look of surprise that ran through his features before his neutral expression took over again.

“Really?” he exclaimed, his previous intention of concealing his shock now thrown out the window. If he had known you lived so close to him, he would’ve sparked a conversation with you sooner. The prospect of your father being his boss no longer bothers him, having finally had a few conversations with you. Having gauged your personality. Having realised that yes, you were as lovely as everyone else made you out to be. “How come we’ve never run into each other before?”

You granted him another laugh, something that would’ve filled Daniel with pride if, in that particular moment, he wasn’t scolding himself for being so shy with you the past year or two.

“I’m pretty sure we bumped into each other while I was walking my dog two weeks ago,” you confessed, wanting to ease the tension; you couldn’t help but tease him a small bit, “clearly, I’m just not that memorable.”

“No, no,” Daniel rambled, hands flying out to contradict your statement, “I can guarantee you that’s not true i- god, I can’t believe - listen i-”

“Daniel, it’s okay,” you laughed, “I’m only teasing.” Daniel, on the other hand, sighed into his hand, giving himself a moment, hoping that the ground would swallow him up before bringing his attention back to you.

“Okay, so tomorrow, should I just meet you at the restaurant, what’s it called? Le-” he flipped the calendar over so he could read the details of your date on the little box indicating tomorrow’s date. You didn’t give him much time to scan the words, however, quickly slammed your hand down on the page.

“You will be picking me up, actually. From my family home,” you tried to be stern with him, tried to make it seem like he had no option in the matter, yet he still managed to argue back.

“I hate to break it to you, princess, but i will not be doing that,” Daniel argued. He would have preferred walking through glass than having to face your father after his previous rough patch. Having to explain to his boss that he was bringing his beloved daughter on a date. A slap to the face would be expected, he assumed.

“Okay then,” you shrugged, slamming the calendar shut in front of you and dusting your clothes off, “good luck finding someone else to indulge in your fake dating schnanagings.

“Wait! No don’t-”

“This is non-negotiable Daniel! I know you think my father hates you, but he doesn’t. He certainly will develop a severe disliking to you, though if you proceed to date me without talking to him first.”

Daniel cursed at the sky. He needed you. Needed someone he had no emotional connection to, to ensure this fake dating didnt end with heartbreak. Something that seemed harder and harder to achieve the more he spoke to you. He was too far gone now. “Okay, send me your address.”

***

Daniel let out a breath. He had been holding it for a while. The whole ride to your family home, he felt like he hadn’t stopped to breathe, mind overrun thinking of ways he could clarify himself to his boss. How could he explain that after his recent partying with far too many women, he was taking his boss’s daughter out on a date?

With one last breath, he pressed the doorbell to your fancy house and waited silently for somebody to answer it. He had flowers for you and your mother in one hand and chocolates for the entire family in the other.

You hadn’t told him to bring anything, but it felt appropriate to bring a gift considering you had agreed to help him out without anything in return.

“Daniel, it’s lovely to see you!” your father gushed as he opened the door, pulling the driver into him and giving him a welcoming hug, “Please come in, make yourself at home,” he smiled, finally registering the gifts in his hands, “Are these for me?” he joked, gesturing to the bouquets in Daniels arms.

“They’re actually for the two beautiful women in your family.” Why had he said that? Why did he just compliment his boss’s wife and daughter in front of him, “however, these are for you,” he passed the chocolates to his boss, forcing himself to breathe through his nose and ease his jitters away.

“See, i knew I liked you for a reason.”

Your father opened the box and plopped one of the sweets in his mouth. “Delicious, come sit sit,” he beckoned. “Im sure my two girls will be down soon, mums just helping Y/N get ready for her date with you,” he stretched out on the couch. Clearly comfortable in his own home. Understandably. “You know how it is.”

“You have a lovely house,” Daniel choked out, desperate for something to say.

“Have to thank the misses for that, I can tell your nervous, mate, i can guarantee you have nothing to be worried about,” your father sympathized.

Daniel swallowed, were his nerves really that obvious?

“But im telling you now, she really does like you, let me tell you a secret,” he laughed before continuing, “she was the one who practically begged me to hire you, although it didnt take much convincing.”

“Really?” Daniel remarked, surprised with this newfound information.

“I can tell shes really nervous for this date, just be your usal self with her yeah?”

“Of course, ill make her feel at ease, sir,” Daniel didnt think conversing with your father would be so easy. Everything was becoming too easy.

“You dont have to call me sir, Daniel, you’ve been a part of the McLaren family for over a year now,” he sighed like something was bothering him, “on that note actually, i know youve been having a hard time, i just want you to know that i never-”

“Hello, hello!” you gushed from the top of the stairs, quickly making your way down to save Daniel from your father, “Im all ready lets go, oh-” You had spotted the flowers. You hadnt told him to bring you flowers.

“Well arent these just beautiful,” your mother smiled from behind you, “You are just the sweetest Daniel thank you,” she gave him a polite kiss on the cheek, “ill put yours in a vase with mine, darling, brighten up the living room a bit.” She hurried off to the kitchen, a newfound bounce in her step.

“Thank you,” you smiled at Daniel, finding solace in the shy smile he presented you with.

“You dont need to thank me, princess,” he grinned, jumping at the unexpected laigh your father let out.

“She is a little princess isnt she? Let me grab a quick photo of the two of you-”

“Dad!” Were you twelve again? You couldnt believe he was embarrassing you in front of his own driver.

“Oh come on! My only daughter and my favourite driver are going on a date! Let me document this moment!”

You plastered on a smile, tucking yourself under Daniels arm and looking into the camera. All you could think about was how quickly you wanted to get out of there.

All Daniel could think about was how wrongly he had perceived both you and your father.

“Well, isnt this lovely,” Daniel commented, glancing around the restaurant you had chosen, taking into account the soothing live music being played from the centre of the hall. The dim lighting caused goosebumps over his skin as if he were on a real date with you.

“Did you expect any less from me?” you laughed, doing your glance around the restaurant, already spotting some journalists crowding around the entrance, hassling the staff to try to get a photo from inside before eventually retiring to the window. The window that had the perfect view of the two of you. You had planned everything out to the most minor of details.

“From the princess herself? I expected more, actually,” he teased, pausing the conversation to order before turning his attention back onto you.

He couldn’t help but admire how you looked as he waited for you to order. Sure, you always looked great, but right now, as he glanced at your cherry red lips, lips that were quirked into a smile as you thanked the waiter and handed him your menu. He was overcome with an urge to snap a photo of you. To not let your beauty go to waste.

Perhaps if he had enough confidence, he would’ve. He would’ve shown it to you and come up with a cheesy line describing just how gorgeous he found you. Instead, he waited in silence for you to order.

“I’m saving that for date number five, Ricciardo,” you winked once the waiter had left, taking a sip of your wine, laughing silently at his reaction. Things were comfortable between the two of you. You briefly forgot it was all fake.

“What’s in store for date number one then?” he wondered, cringing at the pointed look you gave him, knowing very well the reason for your disappointed look.

“Did you not even bother to glance at the notes i left you?” you playfully glared, breaking into a smile once you were sure you had scared him enough, “It’s simple. We just need to be photographed together, maybe some hand-holding if the moment arises,” you shrugged, “that’s it.”

Daniel nodded along to your words. Hand holding. He could do that. He held plenty of hands over his lifespan, or at least that was what he told himself as he wiped his palms on the surface of his jeans.

The arrival of the food granted him the opportunity to think. He didn’t want awkward silences on your fake dates, let alone on the first one.

“Keeping it very PG, I see,” he joked, “not one to kiss on the first date, princess?” You stifled your laugh behind your wine glass, not even noticing the flashes of bright light echoing through the restaurant from the window beside you.

“Gosh, if I knew you were so eager, Ricciardo, i would’ve just planned our wedding,” you remarked, waiting patiently for whatever witty reply he would throw your way.

“I can go down on one knee right now, darling, if that’s what your heart desires,” he quipped, shuffling in his chair to get you on edge.

“Let’s see how the next couple of dates go first. Wouldnt want to fake marry someone who was a shit kiss,” you fought back, one eyebrow quirked up, corners of your mount tugging upwards while his jaw went slack.

“Are you insinuating that I’m a shit kiss?” Daniel was offended, whereas you were thankful that the waiter took this moment to present you with your food. Placing your plate down on the table, he threw you a glance, and while you couldn’t necessarily decipher it, it felt like he was telling you he wouldnt be a shit kiss, unlike your date across from you.

“He’s not a shit kiss, “ you clarified for the waiter, wiping the smirk off his face, “I was just trying to get him riled up, wasn’t i babe?” you smirked, watching as Daniel quickly caught on to your facade.

“She thinks i perform better that way, if you get what i mean,” he winked.

The waiter threw a polite yet strained smile in your direction and hurried off.

“Perform better when you’re angry, is it?” you pondered, tucking into your food, grateful for how easy this fake date seemed to be flowing.

“Suppose you’ll have to wait and find out for yourself, doll. I’ve got to keep some things about me a mystery,” he winked. Your thighs clenched together. This whole thing was meant to be fake, so why were the reactions he pulled out of you so honest.

“Your confidence is admirable.” Your skin felt hot under his intense gaze. Had he been looking at you like that the entire night?

“There’s a lot of things about myself that I would consider to be admirable,” one of his eyebrows arched upwards, a suggestive smile playing on his lips before he took a bite of his dish.

“I sure hope you’re not going to disappoint me after all this hype you’ve built around yourself.” Why was it so easy to flirt with him. Agreeing to do this was a mistake. You were going to end up hurt.

“Trust me, princess, if I get the opportunity to prove myself to you, there’s no way you’ll be left disappointed,” he ran his thumb against the corner of his mouth, wiping away any excess sauce left in its wake, “and that’s not just me inflating my ego, that’s a promise.”

Converstaiuon after that had flowed as easily as it coud with a wet patch forming in your panties.

“After you, m’lady,” Daniel spoke, holding the door open, one hand outstretched to help you into the car.

Grabbing your dress, you were aware of the cameras plastered on you and Daniel. All too aware that any possible photo of the two of you could end up online, so you were careful to hold your dress, maintaining your dignity in case a gust of wind decided to try its luck and lift your dress up.

Daniel was also painfully aware of the cameras that followed you. He didn’t even think twice as he moved to stay behind you, blocking your body from the view of any cameras. These people were ruthless, he thought, pushing against one another to get a photo of the new happy couple.

Once you were comfortably settled in the passengers’ side of Daniels McLaren, you looked over at him, eyes softening at the sight of him completely blocking the paparazzi’s view from inside the car door.

“Thank you,” you gushed, cheeks warming at the thoughtful gesture. You had been on plenty of dates before, with men arguably more famous than Daniel, more used to dealing with the paparazzi. Yet, this was the first time someone had made sure you were comfortable.

“Anything for you, princess,” he winked, lightly closing the door, jogging around the front of the car and climbing into the driver’s side. “I’d say that was quite the successful date,” he gushed, putting on his seatbelt and turning to look at you, momentarily surprised to see your head already turned, looking directly at him.

“One of the best ones I’ve ever had.” It wasn’t a joke, you knew Daniel would take it as so, but there was nothing but honesty behind your words. A wide grin spread across his face, white flashes illuminating his sparkly eyes and bright teeth.

“Who knew fake dating could be so smooth sailing? I guess I have you to thank for that,” he let his head rest, directly copying you while he waited for your response. He had yet to start the car and drive away from the restaurant, but that didn’t bother either of you.

You were both just living in the moment. Not a care in the world. Both did not want the date to end but refused to tell the other how they truly felt.

“I’m just amazing, “ you sarcastically sighed, brightly beaming at him, the smile becoming even wider when his arm strode a stray hair away from your face.

“Yeah, you are,” he breathed against your face. Your noses were inches apart, paparazzi were bustling outside the car, excitement running through their veins, yet your sole focus remained on Daniel and his on you.

“Stop that,” you blushed, your hand now swatting at his bicep. You twisted your head, now facing the windshield, the blush on your face being documented by the crowds of people outside.

“See, I knew you would fall for the Danny Ric charm,” Daniel joked; the sound of the two of you laughing drowned out the clicks of cameras and the engine revving.

Four months would creep along too fast for you to get your emotions in check. You already knew it.

#daniel ricciardo imagine #Daniel Ricciardo x reader #Formula One #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #daniel ricciardo #formula 1 imagine #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #f1 one shot

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demon-girl-2004 · 2 years

Note

Okay okay so- you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to- But I don’t know if you heard of the prompt "a king only kneels for his queen" ? I thought of the monkeys being a mega simp for their crush who is a god/goddess that isn’t quite well-known. The crush don’t believe that they could possibly fall in love with them and just goes "Prove it, then." Then the monkeys just kneels, looking at them with pure adoration AAAA

Oooooooh I absolutely love this!!

Gender not specified

Romantic

A king only knees for his queen

Nezha rebon sun wukong

He’s upset that more people don’t know about you! You’re such a sweet and honest person and you make an amazing god. He loves to watch you take care of what little worshipers you have and he can’t help but be internally enraptured by you. And who wouldn’t be!? Come on! You’re beautiful! So when he gushes over you for the thousandth times and for the thousandth time you roll your eyes and shakes your head with a smile he can’t help but be a little agitated. I mean come on! Whats a guy gotta do to be believed?! So when you say prove it? OH! He’s on his knee for you in seconds.

“Now do you finally believe me my queen?”

Monkey king RB

This little jerk is agitated at you not believing him when he says that he’s completely enraptured by you. He’s even more agitated when he finds out how little people know about you! How could people not know about the amazing god that is you! How dare they not worship you! So he tries to make up for people not worshiping you by having him worship you! I am dead serious. You are a true god in his eyes and he sees you as nothing less. So when the words leave your mouth and doesn’t hesitate for a moment as walks straight up to you and immedatly kneels down in front of you. He keeps his head low down and doesn’t look up at you at all out of respect

“ i kneel for you my queen…”

DOTA2 sun wukong

He never wanted a queen, it's something that he regularly boasted about that “ this kingdom needs no queen!” but as cliche as it sounds it all changed when he met you. you were his everything and no matter how many times he seemed to tell you you never seemed to believe him. He hated the fact that many people did not worship you and he’d do anything to make the people of the world see that they should worship you. He even tells his people to worship and or respect you, that way you would have more followers and hopefully he would see you more. So when you asked him to prove his love and dedication to you, he was more than happy to fall to his knees and look up at you and utter the words

“I will only kneel for you my queen”

SMITE sun wukong

Hes so sick of the way other gods treat you just because you aren’t worshipped like they are. And he hates how you were dragged into this battle not because you wanted to be here but because you needed to protected what little followers you had. That being said he’ll happily kneel for you, while he does have an ego but its not as big as some of the other kings on this list so it only takes him seconds to fall to his knees and look into your eyes, his eyes have so much passion in his eyes that it catches you off guard.

“I shall only kneel for you my queen”

LEAGUE OF LEGENDS sun wukong

He’s sad he watches you take such good care of your followers and you always answer their prayers in some way. It hurts hime to see you be pushed to the side like your nothing when in realitying you’re everything to him. He tries to explain this to you but every single time his words get tangled in his mouth, so when you ask him to prove it the words get tangled in his mouth as he fumbles around. Before finally he figures out what to do and bows to you

“For you? I’d bow to you my queen..that’s if you wanna be my queen! I am not pushing for it”

LEGO sun wukong

He finds you to be everything he wants to be and more, and for that simple fact he worships you in any possible way. He spreads word of you fat and wide in hopes of gaining you more followers.This man didn’t even hesitate the moment he heard those words slip your lips, he confidently strides up to you and kneels in front of you. He has that confident and cocky look in his eyes as he stares into yours

“For my queen? I’d only kneel to her”

LEGO macaque

He’s no king but when I tell this boy is more than happy to prove his love,loyalty and commitment to you. He sees you to be everything that he thought wukong was, but in this case you actually are everything he thought you were. You are more than anything he could wish or beg for.Like I said the man is no king but he sees you as his queen, when those words left your lips is was more than happy to bow to you.

“I am no king but you are my queen”

Masterlist

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userholland · 2 years

Text

between the lines | frat!tom

finals week is here and you’re an emotional wreck, to say the least. not only is your schedule jam-packed, but there are things going on in your life as well. you need to cram, you need to meet due dates and frankly, you could use a drink to get through it all. the night you go to a frat party, you see a cute and familiar face that you have to see every time you go to the small bookstore and he’s behind the cash register.

PAIRING : frat!tom & college!fem!reader

GENRE : college, book shop, love at first sight, dramatic love confessions, wedding date, & a long (too long tbh) slow burn

WARNINGS : tom being sarcastic but cute, lots of fluff + corny dialogue, toxic parents and divorce, a light/tasteful make-out, cursing, drinking, trust issues, both reader and tom being bibliophiles (annotations & recommendations blah blah), etc.

WORD COUNT : 13.9k

A/N : mostly, inspired by an another great idea @venomsilk gave me <3 🧸🌤 🍰 dedicated to her. this is for her valentine’s celebration (a few months late, oops. but school / mental health checks happened so respectable hiatus on this fic) and i was so happy and excited to write it tbh ! i've been more into the romance ya novels lately so i really wanted to give this fic a lot of love and filled it with inspiration from books i've read. pls rec me some bc this summer i want beach reads. anyways adore and appreciate my venomsilk besthie so much. bear with me in this fic, but hope everyone enjoys ! also this header is originally from here! i just added the shredded border

𑁍 masterlist 𑁍

Books. They were a common comfort you turned toward in times of stress, sadness or simply something to make the time go by on the bus ride to campus.

The small bookstore, that you often went to on the weekends, was unique. Most books were donated or found, then there was a small selection of brand new editions on the circular table when you entered the shop.

From the tall shelves filled with fictional adventures to the big, voluptuous, and green plants decorated around the front window, everything about this place was perfect. But, the dark, curly-haired cashier with a soft smile was a bonus to your shopping experience.

Every time you approached the counter, heat would suddenly radiate from your face and your heart fluttered when the boy rose his head to meet your eyes. Sometimes, you caught him reading a classic novel, other times, he was taking his time to finish homework when the store didn’t have but one or two people browsing.

His name is Tom, once overhearing one of his co-workers call him Tommy. You didn’t know anything about him, but it fit his charming yet approachable appearance. He wore a bunch of flannels with the sleeves rolled up and a solid color tee to match underneath, the occasional baseball tee or henley if the temperature in the store was too warm.

You didn’t mean to giggle the time you walked up to him and his cheeks were bright pink from how hot it was inside compared to the coming winter chill changing the fall weather.

Once or twice, you wondered if he remembered you. It sounded egotistical, questioning your importance to some stranger, but you couldn’t help it. He gave you recommendations or comments on the books you purchased, persuasive enough to burn a bigger hole in your pocket for decent literature.

The way he smiled and giggled when you had small talk, all from asking each other how your days had been. If it was a selling tactic he used; it was working.

Some days, romanticizing simple interactions like this made life less lonely and stressful. Tom was simply a crush; just another cute guy you could think about when you think about your future and the little fantasies in between your daydreams. It was nice for a bit and then you snapped back into reality, concentrating on your studies and looking forward to getting a degree.

*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*

Tom took advantage of the lazy afternoon shift between his classes.

There were little to no customers, free time to study and complete silence unless he turned on the music over the speakers throughout the store. While the minimum wage didn’t seem worth it, Tom much more preferred working at his Aunt and Uncle’s bookstore than to getting ripped off from writing English essays for his “so-called” fraternity brothers.

As he sat at his post behind the register, comfortably wearing his black Carhartt jacket, with his head lowered so his brown curls hung down. He unknowingly pouted as he made bright-red corrections on his rough draft for one of his final papers. Even though Tom had three to four other final papers of his own to do, he was doing essays for other people.

His final paper for his Advanced English Romanticism class was way more important and frankly, all he wanted to do was pass with high grades, but earning money for next semester’s tuition by easily bullshitting Shakespeare’s literature theories or creating basic fictional, short stories for people who were barely sober 12 hours out of the day made his eyes wander to the rough drafts in his worn backpack.

The ink imprinted his, sloppy but small, handwriting on the side of his hand, and the end of the pen had a few bites when he was re-thinking his sentences and paraphrasing.

Suddenly, the bell above the entrance door rang, not phasing Tom to look up since people came in and out, but he glanced up when he noticed the familiar color of the jacket you wore. He had seen you a few times, wearing that same navy blue jacket with a red and black stripe going down the sleeves.

A gloss filmed over his bright-brown eyes but looked away once you walked toward the back, admiring the books placed perfectly around the best-sellers table at the center of the store. You were the same, pretty girl who wandered around the stop for an hour, maybe two, seeking a book and nothing else.

Each one that came to Tom’s counter was a different genre from a worn-out classic or a fairly used historical fiction– it intrigued him so, he’d list a few recommendations. After a bit of, what he considered, flirting, you left with a big smile until two or three days passed and there you were again, searching and reading in between the numerous aisles.

“Think fast!”

Tom already flinched, but a soccer ball thumped against the side of his head and he immediately pressed his palm on his temple.

“Jesus…” Tom hissed under his breath, his eyes giving a dirty look toward his friend, “A ‘hello’ would have sufficed.”

“What? You’re not happy to see me?” Harrison grinned, holding the ball under his arm.

Tom quickly retorted, “Why are you bothering me at work?”

Harrison tilted his head.

“Because I cherish every second we spend together…” He smiled before rolling his eyes, “What do you think? We have a meeting at the house in twenty minutes. C’mon, no one is even here, it’s your family’s store and you can leave when your manager is on his phone in the back office–”

Tom opened his mouth, but no words came out. His eyes shifted to you, past Harrison’s figure, watching as you flipped through another book on the same shelf; a hardcover version of The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Basic, but not a bad read. Tom thought.

“Who’s that?” Harrison asked, “She’s pretty.” He glanced over his shoulder, but you had no idea that the two boys were glaring as you concentrated on the text.

“No one.” Tom said in an annoyed tone, messily pushing his books and paper into his worn-out backpack.

The rosy pink tint of the apples of Tom’s cheeks made Harrison slowly smile, “Oh, Tommy. You’re squirming. Is she an ex? Hookup? Maybe TA?”

Tom sighed, “If we leave now, I’ll still help you with your sports management paper tonight.”

Harrison nodded, “Geez, she must be someone if you make that threat.”

You couldn’t help but lift your head at their commotion, watching Tom lead the way. Harrison trailing behind with his duffle strap on his shoulder and spinning the soccer ball in his hands, but your glances connected as they passed. Being the brother he is, Harrison announces, “He has a thing for you! Big ole crush! Do you have his number-”

Tom pushed on Harrison’s back hard, forceful enough to get him through the door. He wanted to avoid you noticing the bright tint red painted on the apples of his cheeks from the embarrassment he couldn’t escape.

Your heart was in your throat, a warmness spreading throughout your body from the attention. Half-smiling, you looked back down at the book in your shaking hands. While it wasn’t your first choice, this happening made you want to buy it to remember this moment.

*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*

The feeling of falling shocked your nerves, jerking your head up to make sure you were still in your seat. You hadn’t noticed you fell into a catatonic state, blankly staring at your laptop with little to no brain function. The brightness of the small screen gleamed against your face, making you blink your eyes a few more times before hearing the multiple cracks break in your back.

This was being a university student. More specifically, an English major.

As much as you loved a hardcover book, money thought differently. Instead of flipping through thick pages with a smell that comforted you, those same texts flashed on whatever device you could afford it on.

The biggest misconception of being an English major is that you like to read everything and anything. Completely wrong. You liked to read the books that were like a warm hug after a rainy, cold day or made you weep until mascara burned the corners of your eyes.

The details you paid attention to within the novels you kept close are the reason you loved to read. But, classics and sonnets that you were forced to analyze to write papers about what they mean bored you mindlessly, wondering why picking English was even an option when it’s just reading a language you know.

You turned to your tall bookshelf, perfectly placed in the corner of the room, and books of various sizes overflowed it like a garden. Some rest on the top of it after you ran out of room on your shelves.

Each had their own story as to how they were placed on the old wooden ledges; buying them brand new from bookstores, finding worn-out classics from the thrift store or they were collecting dust in your parent’s attic. But, lately most had come from the Joel & Anne’s bookstore–you blamed Tom.

Just as you wanted to pick up The Picture of Dorian Gray, a notification popped up in the corner of your laptop’s screen. It was a brief email from your professor, granting an extension to the midterm paper due for those who requested it and you couldn’t have been more revealed.

Thank God, you thought.

The pace of your heart slowed down, the cracking of your spine as you straighten your back at your desk.

Falling on top of the fluffy comforter of your bed, your body’s muscles relaxed. The tension disappeared from your chest as your heavy eyes fluttered close. In and out of sleep, the buzz of your phone caused your head to quickly rise. Half-awake, you leaned up to grab it then plummet back into the soft sheets.

“Since there’s an extension for your paper, does that mean I’ll see you at the Delta Epsilon ABC party tomorrow?” Your best friend, Lillian, texted.

“ABC?” You typed with a furrow brow.

“Anything But Clothes.” She replied with a tongue emoji.

Reluctant, you wanted to say “no” and take the extended due date seriously, but from how stressed out the paper was making you, a party didn’t sound like a bad idea.

You sealed your lips while typing, but once you sent “What should I wear?”

After Lillian pitched a few last-minute ideas, you exited from your text messages then placed your phone on the bedside table. Rubbing your dry eyes, you get back up to turn off your lamp and other lights.

As you stroll to the desk, you trace your finger over the trackpad of the laptop to exit from the email. Surprisingly, you forgot about the already-opened browser of the book you’ve been hunting down for your paper. You were so exhausted, you spaced out in those few minutes to probably forget about it.

Shakespearean plays were the subject of your paper, researching for hours on end about this ancient man’s entire collection and existence. His missing years, his creation of words we still use today, anything that pinpointed a significance in the English language was stored somewhere in the paper your fingers cramped to write for the past week.

*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*

Tom downed the last Red Bull from his mini fridge, compressing the aluminum can in his hand then throwing it in trash. There it sat with the other empty cans and overflow of crumbled drafts.

He couldn’t remember the last time he blinked today yet his fingers were typing any of the words coming up in his head. The sixty bucks he was being paid for it was his only motivation to finish the last lines about the rise of the Roman Empire.

Shockingly, it wasn’t as difficult as told to him– but usually, it’s the people who don’t pay attention in their classes that find it hard and in their way. At least if he did it, there were rewards other than a high grade.

As Tom pressed tab to indent, he thought of how you smiled at him. He hoped it was him and not Harrison being cocky from what he said. He pondered what would happen if he stayed, walking back to you and saying that his attraction was true. But, Tom was more confident in his mind and he couldn’t actually imagine seeing you after how embarrassed he felt from Harrison’s announcement.

“Hey!” Harrison said as he knocked on Tom’s open door, expecting nothing but what he saw– Tom’s ass glued to his desk chair and the bright, white screen of his laptop staring back at him.

Tom turned his head, rolling his eyes at the blonde, blue-eyed devil, “Come here to make any of my other of my secrets known to the public?” He continued to jot down any last corrections on the paper he’d been working on for hours.

Harrison chuckled, jumping onto Tom’s bed, “It’s not like you were going to say anything to her if I didn’t, now she knows. ‘You’re welcome’ would be the correct answer, Mr. English smartass.”

“See, you’re saying ‘you’re welcome’ when I didn’t ask for your help in the first place. She’s just a girl that comes to the store a lot and I just…” Tom shrugged, tossing his pen down, “I happen to notice her.”

“Happen to notice?” Harrison scoffed. “Dude, you were staring at her so hard at her that I thought your eyes were going to pop out. Blink once in a while so if this girl does notice, she doesn’t think you’re creepy.”

Tom rolled his eyes, “She’s not some girl, her name is Y/N.”

Fuck. Tom thought, now realizing how much he corrected Harrison out of habit.

Harrison instantly smirked, “So, you know her name too? What else are you hiding so I can brief her in on it… but more subtle this time.”

“H, why are you in my room at one in the morning?” Tom asked with furrowed his brows.

“You’re going to the ABC party, right? You’ll be there, participating for once, and having fun. Maybe getting high or laid will loosen you up. ”

“I can’t, I have these papers to finish for the guys who will be partying downstairs all night and if I’m lucky, I can get paid double if I ask them for their fee while they’re drunk.” Tom smirked.

“C’mon. One party! It’s a few hours out of the whole semester… Before you have to go back home for the holidays and do nothing but watch Christmas movies and read books for pleasure.”

Tom replied with silence.

“Maybe you could invite Y/N. It could be a nice romantic gesture that your books talk about, right?”

“So, invite her to a party where everyone is wearing anything but clothes and shit-faced within the first hour.” Tom took a pregnant pause, “Yeah, I’ll pass on that.”

Harrison knew not to pry anymore, not planning to give Tom shit for wanting to do well in school. Unlike most of the trust-fund raised kids, Tom paid his dues from paycheck to paycheck. Maintaining high grades wasn’t only for his pride, but his academic scholarship that discounted his tuition.

He admired Tom for his natural work ethic despite it interfered with his social life. Luckily the other brothers saw Tom as an asset, but it was for their own selfish reasons. Harrison was a month younger than Tom, but still felt protective of him as if he were an older brother.

“Okay, well. I have a ‘Beware of Dog’ sign if you want to use it as shorts tonight.” Harrison winked before leaving to his room.

Tom chuckled, but his smile slowly turned into a frown. The desperate need to earn cash for his two semesters’ tuition consumed him the past four months, realizing that this term was practically done and he had done nothing else but work.

*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*

You could say that having caution tape wrapped around your body was ironically hazardous. The plastic was constricting, too afraid to bend over or you may fall and never get back up. While it was cute in thought, you looked in the mirror from head to toe and knew this could end in disaster.

With too many intrusive thoughts, you were about to change back into your grey sweatpants and grab an oversized shirt from the dryer. But, just as you took a last glance at your reflection, Lillian came right through the front door and sported a dress made out of bright green and white condom wrappers fastened together with tape and safety pins.

It was totally Lillian.

You furrowed your eyebrow, “Did you walk all the way here wearing that?”

But she ignored your comment from the stun of seeing you actually wearing a costume.

Lillian gasped, “You look hot! That caution tape was a good call.”

“I feel like this tape is going to fall off at any second.” You groaned, grabbing your college t-shirt from the basket on top of the dryer, but Lillian held your wrist.

“What are you doing?” She retorted.

You sighed, “Changing into something that lets me breathe and walk.”

“Oh, don’t be a party pooper. It’s only a few hours.” She said as she walked to the mirror, fixing her strawberry-blonde waves. She pushed them from the front of her body then behind her shoulders, wondering if the prominence of her collarbones made a difference.

“A few hours of guys asking me what’s underneath this caution tape.” You mumbled under my breath, and she moved you in front of the mirror.

“Y/N, I made a promise to you at the beginning of the semester to make sure you have an amazing last year of college… and I always keep my promises.” She said, her head resting on your shoulder as the two of you glanced at your absurd outfits in the mirror, “And you look too good to not go out...”

You chuckled, “Are you pouting?”

“Depends, does it guilt trip you want to go to the party more?” Lillian jeered, giving you a light squeeze around your waist.

You scrunch your nose, “Only a little.”

The two of you pre-gamed with a fruity, alcoholic seltzer, which barely gave any buzz, then ventured downstairs to the Uber waiting in front of your apartment building.

As Lillian snapped photos of herself from the lighting of the warm streetlights passing by, you noticed Joel & Ann’s bookstore in the darkness. It made you think of what Tom might have been doing tonight, wondering what his life was like outside the store.

You blushed thinking back at the fond moment of his friend shouting he liked you, keeping your head up for most of the day. As harmless as it was, it lingered in your mind and turned into scenarios of how you would enlighten that comment.

Would you make the first move? or has he already and you didn’t notice? Overthinking didn’t help, but you needed to come up with something good to respond to it whenever you’d see him again.

Once you arrive on Fraternity Row, the Delta Epsilon house was anything but quiet. Everyone was following the rules of the party, wearing anything but clothes in different and creative ways.

A brunette passing by wore a makeshift dress, the sparkling Christmas wrap tailored with tape to fit around her slim body. Another guy wore paper-mache shorts made from Superman comic book pages— even a couple of girls sporting the same outfit idea as Lillian which didn’t make her happy.

You hold back a laugh, “Well, at least your wrappers are green. Hers are purple… and Trojan.”

“Ugh, now I’m gonna blend in.” She pouted her glossed lips, “C’mon, let’s go see where the drinks are.”

The music played loud enough that you could feel the bass vibrating your teeth. Lillian hooked your arm around hers as she pulled you toward the bar set up in the corner of the dim lit room.

Everyone managed to commit to the theme of tonight, impressed by the sustainability people reached like wearing a dress made of streamers with your university’s colors or pants made out of cardboard beer boxes. The surprises and creativity seemed limitless tonight, but there was no one who caught your attention.

“Are you looking for someone?” Lillian asked as she poured brown liquor into her plastic cup, spilling a bit on the counter when she shifted the pour into your cup on the counter.

“Kind of.” You mumbled, “You know that guy at the bookstore that I talk about? Tom?”

Lillian giggled, “Oh. The guy you practically stalk.”

“I don’t stalk him.”

“Yeah, right. You’ve just never spoken to him other than giving him money for a book and your literature small talk.” She joked, but it sort of hit a nerve. You almost wanted to prove to her that you could talk to him, you were just nervous as to what to say past your total amount and tax.

“Okay, but you don’t have to put it that way.” You pouted, but she handed you a drink.

“Well, you can forget about bookstore boy, and we can have a little fun tonight. Cheers!” She diverted your attention to your cups, pushing them together before she took a long sip.

You watched her, but didn’t drink with her. Instead your eyes shifted around the excited crowd, but no luck in finding your crush with brown curls and shiny brown eyes to match. You twisted your lips and took a small sip of your bitter beverage, squeezing your eyes shut as it burned the inside of your throat.

“What is that?” You hissed.

“I don’t know, but it gets you loose.” Lillian jokes, hugging you quickly before she pulled you to where everyone was dancing… or what could be described as dancing. It was more like drunken movement between strangers while flashed by neon colors in sequences.

Trying to dance with Lillian in a restraint costume didn’t help until there were two taps on your shoulder. You quickly turned around, acquainted with Tom’s blonde friend— just dressed in shorts made out of the big cloth from Twister.

“Hey! You’re the cute girl from the bookshop, right?” Harrison chuckled.

“Yeah! And you’re the best friend of the cute guy at the bookstore?” You confidently said, raising your eyebrows.

Harrison shared the same expression, “Cute?” He smirked, “I bet he’d love to hear that if he were down here… Hey, why don’t you do him a favor and try to get him down here to have fun.”

“Why? Where is he?” You asked over the music.

“Upstairs in his room, working on his papers… C’mon, I bet he’d be happy to see you.”

Harrison winked at you before turning back to the girl he was dancing with, tipping his head back to down his beer. When searching for Lillan, you saw her dance with some of your shared friends by the unlit fireplace.

*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*

With the door cracked open, Tom listened to the muffled music below as well as the occasional conversation passing by to find an empty room. The bright light from the lamp on his desk shined against his paper. Although you remained silent, Tom took a quick sip of his to-go coffee and blinked his tired, dry eyes a few times.

After two light knocks, Tom assumed it was Harrison, once again, asking him to come downstairs, but instead his heart shot up to his throat when he saw you standing in his doorframe. He was even more surprised seeing caution tape wrapped around your body like a tacky, shiny dress.

“Hey! Hey, nice to see you… especially with your new look.” Tom jeered.

You giggled, “I could say the same, never really see the bottom half of you.”

The two of you shared a warm laugh before Tom shyly asked, “What- What are you doing here?”

“My friend sort of invited me at the last second, then your friend told me that I should come up here and try to urge you to come downstairs… possibly in a costume.” You trailed.

Tom licked his lips, “I appreciate it, but I’m working on some papers tonight. I want to get them done before tomorrow morning”

“A few papers over a party in your own fraternity?”

He hummed, “Well, papers I write for ten dollars a page. Paid in cash or credit… usually.” Tom smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair.

“Do I even want to know the other options?” You joked, slowly walking further into the room.

His blush was hard for him to hide, so he lowered his head down to hide the rosiness on his cheeks when he stood up to stretch. As Tom reached his arms over his head, the end of his shirt lifted a bit and you could see his v-line that disappeared past the band of his Calvin Klein boxers.

Making you blush in return, you rub the back of your neck and look at some of the posters lazily taped on his dull, baby blue-colored walls. Shockingly, not one model from Playboy or Sports Illustrated was staring back at you in a tiny string bikini, rather there were posters of his favorite bands, a few classical authors by his bookcase and distressed movie posters of The Empire Strikes Back and Jaws above his full bed.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess.” Tom tossed a few t-shirts on his bed in his hamper by the door.

He said that, but it was probably the cleanest guy’s room you ever saw. Besides the clothes scattered around, the bed was made and his desk was fairly organized. There was even a trash can–with a trash bag to line it.

“Mess? I wish my room looked like this half the time.” You jeered, walking over to his bookcase, “A bookcase says a lot about someone to me.”

Tom chuckled, leaning on his desk, “And what does mine tell you?”

You awkwardly sat down on the end of his bed, trying to cross your leg over the other. You tried not to show that the plastic coiled around your body was uncomfortable, but one wrong move and you thought that you may expose yourself to Tom at any second.

“You okay?” He asked, “I don’t want to assume, but you look very tense.”

“Wow, it’s that noticeable.” You joked back, Tom chuckling in return. “Yeah, it wasn’t my idea to come tonight so, I got stuck wearing this.” You added, running your hand over the material.

He could see the pout on your face, maybe even a bit of embarrassment, so he suggested, “Do you want to change? I can give you something to wear. Not as much plastic, but more comfortable.” He joked.

Your face heated as you stood up, watching him pull clothes from his drawers. He grabbed a dark-blue Tottenham sweatshirt with a faded logo and baggy, gray sweatpants with your university logo embroidered by the hip.

“Here, hope these are okay.”

“Trust me, anything but this dress is fine.” You grinned, taking them from him. Your hand grazed his, making him gulp as you pulled the clothes to you, “Do you mind if I change in here?”

Tom raised his eyebrows, not realizing he wasn’t responding until he nodded, “Yeah! Yeah, I can just turn around.” He reassured, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes searched around his room, trying to fixate on any small object.

Like the vinyl player in the corner on top of the rack, something he bought out of being impulsive. At the time, his dad had given him some old records that he had found in the attic from spring cleaning, music that was popular when he was Tom’s age. Tom stopped listening to them after–

“Well, I certainly look the part of being a frat dude.” You jeered, turning for him.

“I think you look pretty...”

Way to sound creepy, Tom thought.

“Pretty nice!” He quickly added, trying to save himself from embarrassment.

You smiled at his shy compliment before glancing at the papers scattered around his desk, “So, what are you working on?”

“Uh, themes in Frankenstein. It’s actually my final paper.”

You arched your eyebrow, but admired how he had three different drafts and all of them were marked in red. As you leaned further down to read, Tom quickly shuffled the papers, “It’s not really my best. I’ve been through every book talking about Mary Shelley and her reason for this book... It’s pretty scandalous if you ask me.”

God. He was so dorky, it almost made him charming.

Just as you were going to say your joking comment, the music got louder downstairs and you two could feel the heavy vibration of the bass through the carpet.

“Is your paper the only reason you’re up here by yourself?”

“Well, technically you’re up here with me so, am I really by myself?” Tom shrugged.

You chuckled, “Don’t deflect.”

Tom licked his lips, letting out a long sigh, “I just need enough cash to cover tuitions, and saving up for grad school too. My family has gotten tied up in money and my friend, Harrison, said that he could help me be in a frat and I could make more connections. So, I’m not really here to have fun, more like just doing what I can to make some money and add to my resume.”

“I know we just met, but… Can I give you some advice?” You sighed.

He naively nodded, his eyes turning glassy.

“You need to have some fun while you’re still in college.” You giggled, not meaning to sound mean, but you didn’t have to touch Tom to know he was a tense guy.

Tom responded with a nervous chuckle, “I’ve had… fun. I have fun. This party theme just isn’t really for me.” He protested.

“Well, I can’t disagree with you there.” You grinned, glancing at your now-cozy outfit, “Then what do you want to do tonight? What’s your fun thing?... other than reading the Mary Shelley scandal.”

His eyes searched around the room, then hummed, “It would be nice to have some peace and quiet… maybe work on my papers–”

You interpreted, “Okay, no, no. You’re not working on any papers, it’s about having fun. So, let’s go somewhere you think is fun.”

He smirked which made you think that he had a good idea, rather he said, “We can go to the bookstore.”

Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea.

You leaned against his desk, “Really? How?”

“My aunt and uncle own it.” He smirked.

“Ah. So, you’re like a bookstore nepotism baby. How lucky.” You grinned, cringing at your own jokes on the inside. But, it’s not like flirting was either of your fortes.

“Some kids get into movie premieres and have luxury cars, I have books and the cat that hangs in the front window until he goes back to his owners across the street.”

“I always wondered if that was your guys’ cat.” You smiled.

Tom nodded, “His name is Milo and he loves eating our plants and sleeping on the classic novels.”

You shared another light laugh before you said, “What are we waiting for? Get your jacket on.”

*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*

Once you took a step outside the house, the night breeze felt cool against your sweaty skin. The fresh air was a relief to your lungs once you walked out of the humid-filled frat house, like you had forgotten how clean it could smell outside.

Although the bookstore was a few blocks away from campus, Tom made you comfortable as he made you. Both of you weren’t sure if there were feelings, but there could be since your interaction isn’t ending with you leaving him behind a counter.

Tall street lights guided the way, and the only people passing were stumbling from the few bars lining your college town. There was little small talk between you two on the way, but Tom stopped in front of a convenience store, one he frequently went to if he wanted something to snack on during his shifts.

He walked toward the door, opening it, “You want anything?” He asked.

You nodded, walking in as he held the door open. The two of you walked into the small store with white walls and bright lighting over all the aisles. He walked around the chips and candy, heading to the big freezer with the familiar ice cream brands around the case.

The two of you gazed over it, smiling at the variety of choices like two kids. You couldn’t remember the last time you picked from the freezer– probably before you were even given an allowance. You were seeing another side of Tom, one that was a bit goofy when the stress faded from his character.

“Which one do you want?... I think I’m gonna get a cookie sandwich.” He hummed.

“No way. The strawberry shortcakes with the oats? Or the gelatos? Way better options.” You giggled.

He chuckled at your wit, “Okay, you pick for me. I pick for you. Does that sound fair?”

“Hmm…” You smirked, sticking your hand out, “Deal.”

Tom smiled as he shook yours, both your fingers trailing when you pushed open the glass case.

“Okay. Turn around…” You said, circling your finger to signal him to face back.

The curly brunette rolled his eyes with a small smile on his face, taking a slow turn around with his arms crossed. He stared at the rack of colorful packed snacks, reading the brands and flavors.

You grunted as you shoved the sliding window, then grabbed an ice cream bar of your choice. Putting it behind your back, you tell him, “Okay, your turn.”

Tom smiled to himself, seeing you try to conceal your ice cream bar under the hoodie as you headed toward the counter. He could hear your exchange with the cashier before Tom grabbed an ice cream bar out of the freezer, quickly closing it and hiding his pick behind his back.

“I hope you got me something good.” You teased, facing him and your hands behind your back holding the plastic convenience bag..

He sweetly chuckled again, “I think I did okay… I think you should be worried.”

“Ah, are you hard to please, Tom?” You continued to jeer with him.

All he could do was turn pink, chuckling out of embarrassment like an elementary boy in school. There was a glimmer in his brown eyes and you weren’t sure if it was from the bright lights in the store, but it made your heart pang at how innocent and sweet he appeared.

The two of you walked outside, sitting on the bench under the awning of the convenient store. There was a space between you as the bags crinkled when both of you reached into them. Counting down, you pulled out your ice cream bars for one another and it left you both with smiles and light laughter.

“Great minds think alike.” Tom grinned.

Both of you held the same ice cream bar, still exchanging the treats and opening them. As you ate on the bench, there was silence– but it was comforting silence. Better than surround sound music and drinks being spilled everywhere, preferring the sound of crickets and watching some stray cats walk by the alleys.

You tried to prevent any drops of ice cream getting on the hoodie he let you borrow, leaning out as you bit down and it made him chuckle.

“It’s okay. It’s an old hoodie.”

“Yeah, but, I don’t want to be a slob.” You grinned, trying to ignore how nervous you felt.

“Here, I got it.” He said, leaning over to wipe your chin with a napkin.

You glanced into his eyes again as he came close, holding your breath.

“There, now you are a presentable member of society again.” He jeered, putting the napkin in his wrapper before tossing it in the bin next to the bench.

The two of you stand up together, pulling and adjusting your clothes before continuing the venture to the bookstore. Street lights shined down on the red brick sidewalk, and a few cars passed by as they headed toward the center of town as you both walked further out from the noise of the bars and partying.

Chirping from the crickets was peaceful and the rest of the way was lit by the full moon, making you glance at the glowing orb high above the clouds and surrounded by the stars. The shine reflected off your eyes, smiling at the breathtaking sight but unknowing to you, Tom was glaring at you.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” You asked.

“Yeah.” He trailed, not taking his eyes off you as he shyly grinned.

Tom wished he had spoken to you sooner, not knowing how to express right then and there how he had some sort of feelings for you.

You turned back to him, “Are you okay?”

Embarrassed, he quickly nodded, “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Great.”

You grinned back at him, “Good.” you said before the two of you continued to walk to the bookstore.

*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*

The soft warm glow shined on Tom’s back as his keys jingled when he unlocked the front door.

“You got it?” You ask him, watching him turn the key both ways until there was a click.

“Yeah, it’s pretty old so-”

Tom pushed enough of his weight with his shoulder against the door, opening the seal the door created from how cold it was outside. He half-smiled before walking into the dark room and you followed close behind him.

With how many times you’d been in this store, you could bet Tom that you knew the layout better than him. You carefully stepped around the racks of books, leading to the counter before you heard a loud thump.

“Ow!” Tom hissed under his breath, instantly rubbing his knee from cutting the corner too hard.

“Are you okay?” You giggled.

“Lovely.” He groaned, rubbing away against his soon-to-be bruised skin.

He turned on the reading lamp on the counter, the warm glow against his freckled skin. You noticed how he was able to smile with his eyes, the crinkling next to them when he laughed or smiled. Although you didn’t mean to observe that, it was hard to not notice. He radiated some kind of shine in the way he carried himself– at least from what you gathered.

“So, I’m sure you have some weird stuff behind here, huh?” You teased him, squatting down to look at the shelves.

“Nothing weird, but I hoard books… without telling anyone.” He admitted in a low tone, scratching the nape of his neck.

There was a collection of books down here filling up two rows, most of them had bright tabs on the sides to indicate some annotations between pages. The books ranged from recent autobiographies and novels to ones with broken spines and the names of classic writers on the covers.

You came back up, “I think you have a problem.” You jeered, smiling at him.

“As if being interested in literature is a problem.”

“...Touché.” You nodded, “Do you like working here?”

“Yeah. I guess.” He trailed, “It kills time, it’s quiet.”

“As opposed to going home?” You asked out of curiosity. He was sort of like a guessing game. One clue led to another, intriguing you as you went down this mystery path of a person.

“Uh, I don’t… I don’t go home anymore.” He nervously chuckled, “Haven’t been for a while.”

Heat burned his cheeks and neck, not realizing he was venting in the moment.

“Sorry to hear that.” You gently replied and sensed his discomfort as he looked down.

Tom hummed, “It’s alright. I feel less lonely here.” He shrugged, picking at his fingernails before looking into your eyes.

“Well, now you have me so… it’s a little less lonely than that.” You smiled, scrunching your nose. “...and that may have been the corniest thing I’ve said ever.”

“Yeah, just a little.” Tom nodded, and a sweet chuckle followed, “But, thanks.”

He had a bit of a twinkle in his caramel-toned eyes, and his jaw was incredibly sharp. When he looked away, he’d clench his jaw and you noticed how tense he seemed.

Tom smiled, blushing a bit before he pushed the book on top of the counter toward him. It was an old copy of Pride and Prejudice that he found on a top shelf a few weeks ago. He re-read it three times, and each time felt like a different experience. He rarely annotated, but Tom genuinely loved reading this book and wanted to write down any thought he had about it.

“A favorite?” You asked him.

“Can you tell?” He chuckled, passing it to you.

You skimmed the pages, running your fingers over the different colored post-its sticking out. His handwriting was a bit small, but you could make out what he noted and you found it incredibly cute. You smiled to yourself as you read through them, and Tom hoped there was nothing embarrassing in there– not that there would be but he was already nervous around you.

Just as you got to the last page, a picture fell out and you turned it over to its front. The frame was cardboard with the Disney logo on it and the picture was of Tom and his parents. Sporting a Mickey Mouse baseball cap, he showed a huge smile and held a melting ice cream. His mom and dad were smiling too, his mom with her arm around his small structure and Tom gulped.

“Are these your parents?” You asked.

“Yeah, I was wondering where I left that picture.” He smiled, taking it from you.

You watched him grin at it, but the smile slowly faded the longer he glanced. It didn’t seem so much reminiscing, but feeling more sad. He didn’t want to get down on himself, but he put the picture underneath the counter.

“It’s cute. My parents never took me to those kinds of places growing up, but I was never the Disney princess lover either.” You pouted.

He chuckled, “What? You didn’t want a Disney prince? Something like Prince Eric?”

You hummed, “You do resemble a bit of Prince Phillip.”

Tom furrowed his eyebrows, crossing his arms, “The boring one?”

“Okay, okay. Maybe Prince Charming… you look like you can treat a girl to a dance,” you teased.

“The one time I slow danced was at my prom in year 13 and I remember stepping on her feet most of the night.” He told, trying to deflect your compliment

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, please. Now you’re being dramatic like a prince.” You grinned at him.

Hesitantly, you moved your hand toward his face and pushed back the curls laying on his forehead. Your fingers carded to the back of his head, feeling his soft coarse hair and his brown eyes sparkled. It was a bold first move, but you wanted to know if this intense crush was too good to be true.

All this passes through Tom’s head is “do it”, his instincts scream. Kiss her.

You brought your hand back to his cheek, and you brushed your thumb over his bottom lip before leaning in to kiss him. Tom slowly moved his hands up your sides, pulling you closer to him as the two of you continued to makeout. He lightly pushed you against the counter, your bodies pressed together as he tasted your cherry-flavored lip balm.

With your foreheads against one anothers, Tom pulled away to take a breath, but it caused you both to let out this warm giggle. Just as you were about to kiss again, there was a sudden knock on the door along with the doorknob jiggling.

You quickly ducked under the counter while Tom stood there, trying to fix his hair as well as rub the lip balm off his mouth. He saw his uncle walk through the door, turning on the lights and Tom’s embarrassment flooded his body.

“I thought we were getting robbed. The silent alarm went off a few minutes ago.” His uncle told him, pretty light-hearted once he saw it was Tom.

“No, it was just me.” Tom gulped, glancing down at you hiding under the counter.

“Good, good. Why are you here so late? Your mom told me you had some party tonight.” His uncle trailed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“It was getting… loud and I just left to get some air. Work on some papers.”

You could audibly hear his uncle sigh, then say, “Is this because of… the divorce?”

Tom sealed his lips, it wasn’t what he wanted to talk about right now– especially since you were unknowingly in the room. Although divorce was a common thing, it was different going through when you’re already grown up and that was Tom’s struggle. He knew his parents had underlying issues, but he didn’t think he would get sat down and told his parents would separate their lives then and now.

“I know, it’s hard. But, you have to talk to someone about this. We don’t want you… hiding away, missing out on opportu-”

“I’m not, I just… wanted to be alone.” Tom shrugged, trying to grin and bear it.

His uncle didn’t want to get more into it since Tom was still going through it, but he nodded.

“Alright, make sure to lock up when you’re done. See you tomorrow, kid.” He sweetly said before he walked back out, the bell above the door ringing. Tom was only left with a bright red face, and a sudden racing in his heart. It’s like he realized how lonely he had made himself to be rather than people avoiding him altogether.

Coming from under the counter, you dusted off your shirt at first. You didn’t want to immediately face Tom, sensing there was a bit of awkwardness created. He rubbed the back of his curls, but you finally broke the silence.

“Sorry, my lip balm kind of… got all over your lips.” You joked, taking your thumb to wipe the smudge of gloss from his chin.

Tom smiled, but nodded, “Well, I’m more sorry you had to hear that, but it’s no big deal. I don’t know why my family has so many issues.”

“I think they’re just genuinely worried about you. I mean, you don’t seem much of the talking type.” You confessed.

“It’s ironic. They don’t ask about any of this stuff until I just don’t say anything at all. Maybe, I just want to be left alone and be able to think about how the only two stable people in my life just choose to not be with each other anymore.” He trailed, trying to humor himself.

You could tell he’d been hurt by people before, but this was something he was expecting. It was still shocking, but he chose to close everyone off.

Tom thought if he didn’t have to talk about these feelings, they’d go away. But, by telling you, basically a complete stranger, how he felt— his hurt was more on the surface than he thought.

“Well, you don't deserve to feel this way.” You told him with honesty, rubbing his tense shoulder, “If I can promise you one thing.”

There was a bit of comfort in that. At least someone acknowledging his feelings over their own.

“Thanks.” He grinned.

“Please, you’re one cigarette away from being Holden Caulfield. I felt like I needed to step in now… because he was the worst.”

Tom rolled his eyes, “He witnessed worse.”

“Well, luckily he’s a fictional character. Meanwhile, you need to worry about how you feel, and not be so… scared of thinking the world is going to get you.” You trailed, running your hand from your shoulder to the back of his curls.

*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*

A week and a half breezed by and all you did was hang out with Tom at the bookstore, the library, or his room at his fraternity house. Occasionally, Harrison would pop in, trying to tease him, but also try to get to know you since Tom cared about you. It was actually a bit cute the way Harrison would pinch at Tom’s cheek, trying to make him flustered in your presence. You could tell he cared about him too.

Once your finals were finished and Tom was paid for his essays, it was nice to hang around the bookstore without the added tension. You could hang out for hours and read books in the cozy corner of the store, near the cat by the window and the sunlight would kiss against your skin. Sometimes Tom would get lost in the mesmerizing scene–like being with you meant more than fate. Something like he read in novels.

The sun was starting to set when the two of you entered the pizzeria where Harrison worked. Both of you nodded your heads over at him behind the counter before finding a booth by the window.

“Look at him in his cute apron.” You teased, sliding into the booth.

“Trust me, he thinks it’s a magnet for girls. I wouldn’t let him know.” Tom chuckled.

Although you and Tom were having a fun time, you hadn’t talked about the kiss you shared. Not that it wasn’t on both your minds, but felt better left unsaid than having to figure out what’s going on between you two and ruining this blossoming friendship. It already took long enough to talk to each other outside the bookstore, neither of you wanted to taint that.

“So, do you have any plans for the weekend?” You asked him.

Before Tom could answer, Harrison slid next to him already sporting a cheeky smile and wiped some flour on Tom’s cheek from his apron.

“What are you two gossiping about, huh? Or just miss me?” Harrison winked at you, but Tom wiped the flour off his face.

“We just wanted to grab a slice.” Tom cheeks tinted pink, feeling as if he’s being embarrassed by his dad.

“Calm down, Tommy.” Harrison smiled, “You’re too easy to mess with sometimes.” Harrison jokingly retorted.

You giggled, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna go and order.” You tell them before getting up, heading to the counter.

The two boys watched you walk up to the counter, beaming at the cashier as you made small talk before ordering. Tom’s look glistened, sparkling when he kept his eyes on you and Harrison snickered at his doe-like gaze.

“So, you guys made out and nothing happened?”

It was no lie that Tom regretted venting Harrison–moments like this reminded him of that.

Tom gulped, “I think what’s going on is fine.” He lied.

“Fine?” Harrison asked, “You’ve been crushing on her for weeks and she obviously likes you too.”

“You can’t know that.” Tom trailed.

“She’s been to the bookstore everyday to hang out with you, going out to dinner, spending time at the house and you know no girl likes hanging out there, look at the bathroom for God’s sake, it’s disgusting. No woman willingly stays there unless she’s basically in love.” Harrison explained.

Tom nodded in disagreement, “I don’t think she… likes me. I’m not gonna mess up just talking to her.”

“You’re not. You just need to figure out how to make the right move.” Harrison stated before quickly asking, “Hey, you got invited to Steven’s wedding, right?”

Steven was one of the alumni of the frat house and a close friend of both the guys. Tom was a “baby-faced” freshman when they met and was still teased to this day for looking so young.

“Yeah. I did, but I don’t know if I’m going. It’s kind of far.” Tom trailed, scratching his nail against the table.

Harrison smiled, “No, you should go and Y/N is your plus one. Bam, matchmaking.”

Tom rolled his eyes, “Yeah because a two hour car trip would really make me less awkward and weird.”

“You need to be a little hopeful. It’s not like your strangers anymore. You guys hang out at the store for hours with no problems. C’mon, she’d love it. It’s a nice countryside wedding and lots of our friends will be there so it’s not like you’ll be the odd one out. Introduce her, and maybe find some romantic spot to makeout, huh?”

Tom thought Harrison was a bit in over his head, but trying to make him see the other side of his pessimistic thoughts. Tom liked you, you like Tom. The problem was finding the moment to say that outlook to each other.

He twisted his lips, “How do I even ask that?”

“You’ll know how to say it when the moment comes… which seems like right now.” Harrison smirked.

As you walked back with a table timer in your hand, already wanting it to vibrate with your order since you were starving. You slipped into the booth, noticing both boys getting quiet which made you giggle.

“Am I interrupting something private?” You teased them.

“Actually, we were talking about a wedding we’re going to next weekend.” Harrison immediately said.

Tom wanted to sink into his seat.

“A wedding? Aw, that’s nice.” You smiled, “Who’s wedding?”

“Our friend, Steven, is getting married and I think Tom wanted to ask you something…” Harrison insisted.

Tom’s eyes widened, but Harrison quickly said, “I gotta get back to work. I’ll bring your food right out.” He flashed a cheery smile, something Tom wanted to slap off his face if he could, before leaving you two to talk– more like Tom improving what to say.

The feeling could be compared to dropping a baby into the deep end, trying to teach them how to swim and all Tom could do is internally panic.

You thanked Harrison before facing toward Tom’s pink-tinted face, and you tilted your head with a cheeky smile, “Something to ask me?”

He sighed but nervously smiled, “Not to impose, but… I was wondering if you wanted to… go with me? To the wedding. I know it’s last minute and all, but I would really like you to go… with me.”

You giggled at his shy question, “I’d love to go with you, Tom. It sounds like fun.”

There was a relief in the air for Tom, not thinking you would accept so quickly and with an assuring smile.

“ Really?” He still asked.

“I don’t know why you assume the worst of me. Maybe being your wedding date will change that. Weddings always give people a bit of optimism” You chuckled, tilting your head at his shy expression.

A light chuckle left his lips, “Remember, optimism isn’t my thing. Then our personality equal us out.” He joked.

“Exactly why I’m the perfect wedding date. I make the conversations and you hold your drink and nod. It’ll be adorable.” You grinned back as heat radiated from your cheeks.

Tom can’t hold back his smile once you look out the window. His eyes traced your jaw then up your perfect cheekbones, trailing to your eyes as the streetlight reflected off the irises. He feels that moment again where he could confess everything he felt for you right there in front of everyone at the pizza place, a small amount of courage whispering in his ear to do it. Just to say it out loud.

“Here’s your complimentary garlic bread, love birds.” Harrison interrupted as he placed the plastic basket on the center of the table.

“Thank you for your incredible service.” You jeered at the cheeky blonde.

Tom laughed off his sudden thought, nodding at Harrison before you two started talking about the wedding plan since you were going now. The rest of the night was hanging out and eating together, talking about the future with classic rock playing over the old speakers in the restaurant.

There was a coziness that radiated the more you were vulnerable, even showing through being more relaxed while sitting in the booths. You felt like you could tell him anything and for once not have to think twice about what you revealed or said. No one could compare to Tom and you wish you could tell him that.

*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*

A breeze brushed past your face as you waited outside your apartment with your bags. You were sat on the front step, waiting for the two boys to pick you up on this nice summer day. Tempted to text them for a time of arrival, the door opened behind you and you glanced up to see Lillian.

“I went through the back only for your roommates to tell me you’re already waiting outside. I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.” She jeered as she sat next to you on the stoop.

You sighed, “Sorry, I’ve been hanging out with Tom.”

She chuckled, “Of course. I’m not surprised. It’s been this way ever since you ditched me at the party-”

“I didn’t mean to di-”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Lillian giggled, putting her hand on top of your knee, “I know you really like him.”

“I don’t… like him that much.”

“I can’t remember the last time someone could actually get your attention away from books or studying so, I like to call it fate that you met at the party.” She teased and scrunched her nose.

You rolled her eyes before turning your head, seeing the car come down the street and you quickly stand up. As you brush off the back of your pants, Lillian picks up one of your bags and the two of you slowly walk up to the curb. Once the car stopped, the two boys got out and Tom immediately greets you with his pearly smile.

“Hey Tom, Harrison, this is my friend, Lillian.” You introduced them, gesturing your head.

“Hey there.” She greeted both of them, moving her hair behind her shoulders, “Don’t let anything happen to her.”

“We promise.” Tom grinned, lowly chuckling before he took your bag she gave to him.

After giving a goodbye hug Lillian, you slid into the backseat of the car. You sat on the left side so you could sit diagonally from Tom’s view, already creating terribly awkward scenarios in your head for what this two hour drive may be like.

What if we don’t talk at all? What if I’m in over my head? What if this isn’t real or what I thought? What if this whole trip was going to be a big mistake?

Tom was pondering the same, but he tried his best not to doubt his own feelings. Especially after the, what Harrison would call, pep talk he gave him on the way to your building. Nevertheless, it made Tom especially when he already knew he was being incredibly shy, but knew Harrison meant well.

“Alright so, I found out Cami Bernet was coming and I wanted to stay in her room so… It’s just the two of you sharing the hotel room, yeah?” Harrison announced, making you and Tom share a sudden glance.

“I don’t mind…” You trailed, your eyes shifting.

“Yeah, no problem.” Tom quickly added.

Harrison smiled at your reactions, “Don’t worry, there’s one bed and a pull out couch.”

Tom’s face beamed a light pink, making him turn his head toward the window. But, you did the same by turning your face to see the street passing by as you were leaving town. Harrison couldn’t help but smirk to himself at how antagonizing he could be yet trying to be a perfect matchmaker.

*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*

Toward the end of the drive, you laid down in the backseat wearing the cozy hoodie Tom stuffed in his backpack. With your head sunk into your pillow and your legs curled up, you looked as comfortable as someone could on a road trip. A few times, Tom glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were okay when there was a sudden bump in the road, but you also looked cute nuzzling your face into your pillow.

Once you arrived to the hotel, you stirred in your daze as Harrison pulled in front of the huge front doors. Two valets walked up to the car, one on Harrison’s side then another by the trunk. As Tom got out, he quickly opened the back door and lightly shook your leg.

“Hey Y/N, we’re here.” He softly spoke, giving his hand for you to hold.

You blinked a few times, but lazily smiled as you wrapped your hand around his and pulled yourself up from the comfortable position you lied in. You pulled down your hoodie when you got out of the car, grabbing your bag on the floor while watching the valets take the rest of them to put on a luggage cart.

“Jesus, Tom. What’s in this?” Harrison asked as he gave Tom his duffle.

“A few books, some shoes…” He trailed.

“You brought books to a vacation wedding? How adorable.” Harrison teased him as he gave the valet his keys before entering the hotel doors.

You giggled, “What literary fix did you bring on a two day trip? Romantic novels, I bet.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s just my genre.” Tom chuckled, his eyebrows raised at his comment.

The entrance to the hotel was grand, to say the least. There were two large, revolving glass doors trimmed with gold that entered into the main lobby with renaissance art against the woven wallpaper. Both your heads tilted up toward the ceiling, admiring the pale murals along the lavish lights.

You could only hope to get married at such a beautiful place in the future, and you were pretty optimistic that you would find someone for that to happen.

Harrison faced the two of you walking toward him, noticing the way you glared at Tom and your eyes looking so bright. Although he was still looking at the scenery, your eyes were just on him. It made Harrison smirk, but turn back to the hotel front desk manager.

“Thanks.” Harrison grinned, taking the key card. He turned to Tom, “Here’s your key. Don’t be too loud and rowdy. This is a classy place.” He teased, seeing Tom already turn a tomato red.

You snickered, “Thanks, Harrison. You guys planned doing anything?”

Harrison nodded, “I’m meeting Cami by the pool then we’re gonna go back to her room before the rehearsal dinner. What about you guys?”

“I actually saw on their website that there’s a historical library on the second floor, a bunch of old collections.” You turned, “Tom? Interested?” You asked him with a beaming smile across your face.

Tom glanced at Harrison, who also was smiling, then back at you, “Yeah, of course. Sounds fun.”

“Wow, you guys really know how to get out of your comfort zone. Have fun with that.” Harrison, obviously sarcastic, stated before leaving to meet Cami.

Quickly, the two of you took the large, carpeted staircase on the second floor and followed the signs that directed toward the library. It wasn’t as fancy as the hotel, but it did look pretty old from the traditional style of the room.

You looked up at the high ceiling before heading toward the back shelves of familiar British authors. Although most of these titles triggered him back to all the essays he was paid to do his last year of college, he glared back at you completely mesmerized by the complete collections.

“Look, Williams works. All his romanticism in one set. I bet that’s like a dream to you.” You smiled to yourself, flashing back to your late night ramblings over the phone about literature. You never thought you’d meet anyone with a bigger opinion on themes of romance– and Tom was pretty convincing in his arguments. Truly adorable when you he went on his tangents, just wanting to listen to his soft voice all day.

Tom traced his fingers along the spines of the books before selecting one to read. He breezed through the pages, noticing the pictures within the text before he glanced up and didn’t see you straight on.

“Y/N?”

“Over here!” Your voice echoed.

He followed the sound of your tone then seeing you sitting in a comfortable nook that overlooked the beach and pool area.

“I found the best seat in the house.” You jeered, pulling your legs to your chest with your back against the wall of the nook.

Tom joined you, sitting down on the cushion within the space and facing you from the opposite side. The natural sunlight came through the window beautifully, so much so that he was already in the reading mood.

You grin, “I bet a bunch of writers came here and just wrote their hearts out.” You said as you looked out to the calm ocean.

“Or where a lot of people hid from their brides.” Tom jeered.

You rolled your eyes, then crawled over to his side. You instantly curled up next to him, your head against his chest as the two of you glanced at the page of the book together. Tom didn’t expect you to get so close, but he wasn’t complaining.

Within that time, you learned that Tom is the fast reader between you two. Dorky enough, you were a bit envious of that. Everytime he tried to turn the page to tease you, you’d quickly put your hand up to stop him and plea that he stop moving his eyes so fast.

About thirty pages in, Tom hadn’t realized he was flying through the pages with how in depth he was of the text. He turned his head and saw you fell asleep, smiling down at you and not knowing the short car ride really tired you out. He didn’t move though, he wouldn’t dare to with how peaceful you appeared. He chuckled at your light breaths, napping against him with your hand at the center of his chest.

*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*

A few minutes later, you woke up in Tom’s arms and almost sprung up from the embarrassment.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I passed out.” You chuckled, lifting out of his arms.

“No, it’s okay. I was just reading away.” He shrugged, showing that boyish smile that made your heart race.

The two of you came to the conclusion that you were starved, so you thought of the only bougie thing to do on a wedding weekend– ordering room service. Giddy and smiling, both of you went one of the three huge elevators in the hall and headed to the eleventh floor.

When you entered your room, your luggage was lined up by the door. Neither of you wanted to gawk, but it was probably one of the more fancier places either of you stayed in your lives.

There was a deep tub in the bathroom and robes hanging on the door as well as a king-size bed with an incredible ocean view and balcony. The sofa was in the corner with the mini-fridge next to it, making you curious as to what else they could offer.

“Do you think if we take from here Harrison will kill us?” You asked Tom, opening the small fridge door.

“Kill, no. Strangle? Maybe.”

You giggled, but saw a few sodas and healthy snacks. As you checked out the selection, Tom walked back to the bathroom and turned on the light. His eyes widened to a bottle of champagne on ice set on the counter. There was a tiny card next to the bucket that said: Happy Wedding Everyone! From us, to you! XO The Bride and Groom.

Holy shit, how much was Steven paying for this. Tom thought.

“Wow, that’s for us?” You asked peaking from the doorway.

“I say that we toast. It only seems right.” Tom trailed as he checked the label on the bottle.

Maybe this wouldn’t be as awkward of a night as the two of you dread. Thank God.

Tom already popped the cork, making you hurry back with a bit of a pout on your lip.

“Well, couldn’t find wine glasses but I did find hotel coffee mugs. Much more sophisticated.”

After pouring both cups at least half, the two of you sat on the balcony to admire the scene. The view from your hotel room was beautiful, as if it was a green screen. The sun perfectly setting below the shorelines and the winds blowing the tall grass in the dunes. It reminded you both that it was the summertime; a period of time to relax and destress from the fast pace environment of school and warm up from the previous harsh winters.

There was a freedom in the air, almost confusing from how much time you suddenly had.

“This is definitely the kind of view I want for my wedding.” You trailed, a bit mesmerized.

Tom nodded, “Really?”

“Yeah. A beach wedding is romantic… well, until it gets windy, but I know I’ll get my planning down.” You said before turning to him, “Where do you want to get married?”

His heart skipped a beat, “I’ve never thought about it.”

You scoffed, “Never?”

He nodded, “Never ever. My dad sort of said that it’s what the woman does and the man just nods and agrees.”

“God, your dad sounds like a joy… No offense.” You quickly corrected yourself.

“He’s always been like that. Then I wonder why they didn’t work out.” Tom tried to humor himself.

Your lips went to the side before saying, “Hey, that’s their issues. It doesn’t fall on you or anything. I personally think they did do a great job at raising their son. He turned out pretty okay.” You grinned, holding your cup with both hands.

Tom smirked, “I can agree with okay.”

When he looked at you, it’s like he had this crush on you for years. He thought for a moment that maybe if he believed in his gut feeling, there could be a chance with you. He couldn’t keep backing out each time he wanted to ask you that simple question.

You wondered the same just a few feet away from him. You didn’t want to think so highly of yourself in his perspective, but the thought of getting over this crush would make you feel nothing but regret.

Something was there. The word for it was unknown at the moment. Ultimately, it was now or never.

*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*

In the early hours of the day, you and Tom found yourselves in a rush to get ready. As you tried to do your makeup in the bathroom, Tom was in the main room looking in the long mirror while trying to perfect his black tie. He wore a nice navy blue suit with a white button up, feeling like he was playing dress up since he never went to many fancy occasions other than important fraternity meetings.

“How are you doing in there?” You asked him, contorting your face to make sure there were no creases in your concealer.

“I remember why I wear clip-on ties.” He mumbled as he pulled at the end of the tie, but the knot was too crooked by his collar.

As you put down the brush, you grabbed one of your earrings and tried putting it on as you walked out to see where he was at. You saw how he struggled to figure out what shirt to where, seeing the two other unbuttoned ones on the pull-out coach he slept on last night.

“Here, let me try.” You trailed, standing right in front of him so you could align the tie. Tom glanced at you, your eyes focused on the centering as your fingers moved the knot around to get it just right. He gulped with how close you were to him– the last time being when you two had a short make-out before being interrupted. If he kept thinking about it, the more red his cheeks would get and he tried to let his mind go somewhere else.

“There, that’s better. A wedding date has never looked so handsome.” You teased, patting down his tie on top of his shirt. He nervously chuckled, both of you sharing a shy smile before you touched his gelled curls to fix the stray strand of hair by his forehead.

“Now, how do I look?” You asked him, dramatically posing with your hands on your hips. You wore a knee high dress, a pale blue that complimented Tom’s shade of blue where it still matched.

“You look beautiful.” Tom complimented in complete awe.

Heat rose your face, genuinely flustered, “Good, we should probably head down there… before Harrison can think of any comments to throw our way.”

“You’re right.” Tom groaned.

Well, Harrison’s insinuated comments were well in his head anyways so, you two got a few of those before the three of you headed to the wedding venue outside by the beach. Harrison briefly mentioned Cami, not getting into too many details which was for the best (at the moment).

The three of you took your white fold-out seats toward the middle of the left side, Tom and Harrison pointing out Steven’s family in the front row. You picked up the pamphlet that sat on the chair, the cover showing a professionally taken picture of the couple.

Smiling, you read through the brief summary of the ceremony and Tom kept giving you short glares. He really couldn’t believe how beautiful you looked, especially in the warm sun and beautiful setting around you all.

Once everyone gathered, the wedding started and eventually everyone stood up for the bride’s entrance. You saw her already tearing up, almost making you want to shed tears as well, but you held it together. It was nice to see this woman so happy and you didn’t even know her– you just knew she was happy.

All went well and thorough, everyone awing at the ring bearer and flower girls, but then the vows came and there was nothing but silence.

“I promise to love you today as much as I did yesterday, as much as I will tomorrow and years to come.”

Both you and Tom got shivers up your spine, relating those words. You glance down at Tom’s hand resting between his legs, watching him pick at his nails, and you carefully placed your hand on top of his wrist. He didn’t even realize he was doing it, a shy smile to show his bit of embarrassment. You quietly giggled, squeezing his hand before bringing your hand back to your own lap.

Tom let out a shaky sigh, gulping and thinking his tie was now strangling his throat.

The ceremony would end in a beautiful kiss before the bride and groom left back down the aisle. Everyone slowly moved over to the reception which was only a few feet away under a huge white tent. The cake was set as well as the food and free bar, everyone, including Tom, able to loosen their ties and even take off their shoes to dance.

“That was really nice. Anything like you want at your non-thought of wedding?” You jeered at Tom, walking next to him.

He nodded, “I took a few mental notes. But, my eyes may have been concentrating too much at what color pink the bridesmaid dresses were.”

“I was thinking between a light flamingo or cotton candy.” You scrunched your nose.

With booze and food being passed around, all the wedding guests were having a great time. With the sun set and the fairy lights beaming around the tent, everyone was having fun and embracing the bride and groom’s special day. Their first dance together was sweet, applauded and wooed before the real party started.

Hooked on A Feeling by Blue Swede began mid-verse, making everyone laugh at how random the song was. People linked together, swinging back and forth with happiness painted on every face.

“Do you want to dance?” You asked Tom, getting up from your seat and giving your hand out to him.

He nodded, “I’m good right now.”

“C’mon. One dance.” You pouted, “Don’t leave me hanging here.”

“Maybe later.” Tom chuckled, turning a bit pink.

That was one thing he forgot before the trip– how to dance with rhythm in his step.

“I’ll warm you up and maybe makeTom realize he’s missing out.” Harrison jeered, stepping in to take your hand.

Tom dazed in pure awe of you sway back and forth with Harrison. He wasn’t envious, confident knowing that his bestfriend wouldn’t do that to him, but just being able to see you gracefully dance was like seeing an floating angel glide on clouds. Harrison spun you a few times, throwing your hand back in laughter just from the positive atmosphere.

A minute or two passed in the song, and Tom leaned his arm on the back of his seat, grinning at your smile, but you suddenly made eye contact across the room.

He blushed as you and Harrison walked back over, hoping he wouldn’t be making a fool of himself.

“It’s your turn.” You smiled, taking his hand and Tom got out of his seat. Harrison purposely cheered for both of you loudly, making a scene to tease Tom, but he was happy that Tom was happy. Brown Eyed Girl started playing when you both planted your feet and instantly grooved to the fast beat. Sure, the songs were kind-of cheesy, but it’s expected at a wedding and all you could do was embrace it.

You two merged into the dancing crowd, everyone happy and spinning around as well as kids jumping around between their parents. You wrapped your arms around Tom’s neck, both of you moving and swaying and people passed by singing some of the lyrics. Even Steven and his bride cut in, making everyone cheer for them and laugh.

Once the night calmed down, with kids and older folks heading to their rooms, slower songs played for the guests still enjoying their time. As nice of a night it was, you looked out at the beach from afar and Tom was nursing his drink next to you.

“Do you want to… go see if we can sit on the beach?” You hesitantly asked, wondering if it was cheesy.

Tom nodded, “Sure. Yeah.” He half-smiled.

You both walked together from the wedding tent, heading down the unlit path. Tom grabbed one of the folded blankets displayed in a bin for people who wanted to sit on the beach any time of the day.

As you two got closer to the beach, Tom couldn’t help but notice everything going on. The moonlight, the leftover pink petals and rice in the sand, even dolphins fins going by within the waves.

No one could make this up as the most perfect moment to ask someone out. Tom cracked his knuckles, the two of you listening to the crash of the waves against the shore, before he stuttered out his words.

“D-Did you have fun tonight?” He shyly asked, not looking at you.

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun. I’m glad you invited me…” You trailed.

Okay, this was the moment. Tom thought, This is when you tell her.

He gulped, but you spoke before him.

“Are you okay?” You furrowed your brow.

Tom cleared his throat, “Yeah! Yeah, I just… I want to tell you something.”

You giggled at his sudden shyness, getting closer to him, “What’s going on?” You grinned, but a bit concerned. You couldn’t gauge if his tone was happy or upset.

He didn’t want to take a completely dramatic pause, but there wasn’t enough air in the world for his lungs to feel like they were working. His tongue felt dry, his skin felt cold, holding his breath until it just all slipped out.

“I really like you and… I haven’t been able to figure out how to say it. I read these books about love and what it is but, I couldn’t think of anything to say for shit.” Tom chuckled, his neck and cheeks heated, “But, now I know that I want to be with you and I’ve known that ever since you came into my life wearing some caution tape and gave you my hoodie… I think that you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

He couldn’t believe he admitted it out loud, feeling a bit faint from letting it all out at once.

You chuckled in relief, “I like you too, Tom. We’ve spent so much time together and you’re so fun to be with that I’ve been tripping over myself wondering if you felt the same.” You thought your heart was in your throat and butterflies bursted in your stomach, “I didn’t want to be that weird girl who just thinks she’s in love with the cute guy at the bookstore she spends too much time at during the day.”

Tom gulped, surprised by your response, but he had to catch his breath again when your eyes met again. The moment was still a bit awkward, not knowing what to say next, but you bite your bottom lip, “I think this is the part in books and movies where we kiss and ride into the sunrise on your beautiful steed.”

He cracked a smile and leaned in, his hand against your cheek before your lips met. You would be lying if you said you weren’t dying for this kiss to happen. Like that end at any sappy romance novel you read for pleasure, they always ended in these kind of passionate and satisfying kisses. Although you didn’t think those type of scenarios were real, this was enough to make you start believing.

*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*

Your eyes fluttered open, surprised by the sound of the waves still crashing onto the shore and salty but gentle breeze brushing across your face. You two must have fallen asleep from how tired the night made you between the dancing and drinking, but you weren’t complaining instead smiling at the coincidence.

A few moments later, Tom would stir from his sleep. He didn’t believe how loud and close the waves were, but his eyes fluttered open to you sat up and looking out at dawn. The wedding arch still stood between the soft sand of the beach, both of you watching the glowing sunset begin its descent under the horizon.

Another cold breeze set the relaxed mood even more as you two sat there admiring the start of the morning. Tom stretched his back, both of you comfortable with the silence between you two. Feeling refreshed and happy, you turned your head to Tom and the orange light made his brown eyes shine.

“Yesterday happened, right? It wasn’t just an amazing dream I had.” Tom joked, turning to smile at you.

“Truly real. Nothing fictional about it.” You smiled.

Tom placed his hand on your cheek, cupping your skin softly before placing his lips on yours. Your smile faded as your noses brushed together, your heart fluttering as you paced your sweet kiss. It was your happy ending that no book could write.

#tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland fics #tom holland x reader #tom holland x female!reader #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #college au #bookshop au #one shot #frat!tom #tom holland au #tshwritersnet

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cannoliparty · 4 months

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the sylph of heart

sylphs are honestly a sweet class in relation to their aspects.. a sylph of heart is especially sweet, and ill be explaining how so here ^_^

the sylph

"the passive creation class, sylphs are the “ones who heal/create for others through their aspect/ones who heal/create for others their aspect”. this means that in a session, the sylph will act as the dedicated healing role no matter what they are doing. their challenge is not to wait on the sidelines for when the healing is necessary, but act on their own drive."

sylphs start out healing and creating the areas of their aspect for others!

one of our strongest examples is kanaya, a sylph of space. she healed rose's view on space/physical reality by simply influencing her, and rose ended up taking up alchemizing as a hobby, which is more in touch with physical space and less of her own ideas and wishes. but she also acted on her own on the meteor, where she created and healed her own physical space and became a rainbow drinker in the process, then proceeding to kill eridan, taking even further control of the space around her. overall, she overcame the challenge of a sylph!

aranea is a sylph of light. by talking endlessly about her session in beforus and how the cherubs work, she is creating new light for others, and healing the wounds of unknown knowledge. she is a great example of how a sylph can be very eager on the sidelines waiting to heal the means of their aspect.

basically, sylphs start out postponed to the sidelines. they are often eager to help where they can in terms of their aspect, but it's still very passive. the sylph must overcome a journey of self-discovery, defying the "selfless" acts they started out with, but not rejecting them. instead, they heal and do what they want, learning to create for both themselves and for others, this time on their own terms.

the heart

the heart aspect is very personal. it affiliates with feelings, inner thoughts/opinions, and even goes so far to your very soul. heart players will naturally/usually feel things very deeply, whether they'd like to or not. depending on things like the heart player's class, lunar sway, or just outright their personality, they'll vary in the ways of how they deal with their feelings. for example, and heir of heart would be very in tune with their feelings, and sway easily along with them. a witch of heart, however, would defy their emotional tendencies and instead view them as a tool, or maybe in a negative light that cannot be trusted. but regardless, these two examples both use emotions to their own will when reaching the heart player's full potential.

an example is nepeta leijon, rogue of heart. with her robin hood archetype of a class, she "stole" pieces of the heart aspect and gave it to her friends in the form of shipping! unfortunately, rogues aren't usually sure how to interact with their own aspect for themselves, and this was shown for nepeta's loss of courage in her feelings and inability to truly confess her crush to karkat.

dirk strider, prince of heart is another example. if he destroyed heart/destroyed through heart, you could consider it as hurting the feelings/souls of people around him. whether it's through being off-putting in relationships or ripping out and destroying someone's own soul!

the sylph of heart!

a sylph of heart is a great caretaker to other's feelings. they are nurturing and understanding, and often have ways of cheering up their friends in dire emotional ruts or situations. they heal their friends' negative emotions, but they can also create new emotions for others. happiness, anger, sadness... a sylph of heart can inflict these on who they wish for an outcome they'd like.

but when it comes to themselves, the sylph could be at a loss emotionally. they might have trouble tending to their own emotional toil, and struggling to figure out how to heal their own thoughts & feelings.

this particular sylph needs to learn self-reflection and how to deal with their own difficult feelings. they learn self-comfort and, in turn, how to harness their emotions even in the most stressful/dire of events! this will enhance their emotional abilities and understanding in themselves. overall, now the sylph can create and heal their own emotions, becoming stronger and more able with newfound experience! ^_^

conclusion

thanks for reading!!! i know ive been doing a LOT of heart-based classpects but if you comment one for me to analyze i can totes do it sometime aswell ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧....TOODLES!!!

#cannoliblabbing #homestuck #classpects #classpecting #classpect #sylph of heart #kanaya maryam #aranea serket #nepeta leijon #dirk strider

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liaa--qb · 9 months

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"The Viper and Nightingale game"

[ Dark mean Aemond x strong niece ] part 2

chapter 2 : HER REMINISCENCES

Summary : Rheawina recalls her sweet and sour childhood moments. (We will go through their childhood memories )

Ch 1 : Introduction

chapter 2 :

Huddled beneath her blanket, clutching her pillow tightly, Rhaewina sought refuge in the comforting embrace of her mother. She buried her head in her mother's lap, her tears flowing silently while her mother softly hummed a soothing lullaby. The events of that fateful night on Driftmark, the encounter with Vhagar, and the turmoil surrounding Aemond had left her in a state of profound fear and now his threat.....

Gradually, as her mother's gentle massage worked its magic, a semblance of calm began to wash over her. However, she remained shaken and shocked by the night's events. Rhaewina reflects on what went wrong here.

What mistake did she make for Aemond to transform into such a beast? Why did Aemond suddenly turn into this monstrous figure from the quiet, dedicated boy he used to be? Was he always like this, and she simply failed to see it ?

***********************************************************************

Having nurtured a crush on Aemond throughout her upbringing, Rhaewina never divulged her feelings to anyone. Jace and Luke were more preoccupied with following Aegon's ill-advised actions, never taking Rhaewina and Heleana seriously. They seemed disinterested in everything she and Heleana did, merely finding joy in laughter and play. Though Jace did attempt to concentrate on his training, striving to improve as long as he avoided Aegon and Luke's distractions, unlike Aemond who succumbed to them.

Aemond, akin to the protective brother she had always wished for, consistently stood by her side. He supported both her and Heleana as they grew up, always ready to assist whenever they required anything.

Many times, he quietly stood with them when he couldn't participate in dragon-related activities due to lacking a dragon of his own. While Rhaewina's dragon egg never hatched, it didn't trouble her; she didn't experience the agony Aemond did. He deeply mourned not having a dragon, often speaking for hours about the magnificence of these creatures, causing Rhaewina and Heleana to doze off during his monologues.

In time, Rhaewina's affection for Aemond blossomed. His presence brought her immense joy, and she relished any opportunity to be with him. His striking appearance, with his flowing white hair and his graceful training style, captivated her. Despite excelling, he remained unsatisfied with his performance, endearing him to Ser Criston, who favored him over the other children as his protégé

.Observing Aemond's training in the yard became Rhaewina's daily routine. She even abandoned her dance lessons, citing the desire to spend time with her Grandsire, but in truth, her heart led her to this decision.

Her grandfather cherished watching all the young princes training together, always with Lord Lyonel Strong by his side, assisting him in every way. Seeing her favorite family member, her grandfather, laughing brought her immense joy.

She once overheard him confiding in Lord Lyonel, expressing his wish to possess the combat prowess of the young boys, akin to his father and brother Daemon, but he had never been a skilled fighter. Time had now taken a toll on his health, making it too late for him to change. She never wanted to witness his sadness.

Seeing her grandsire sad was something she vowed never to endure. In the eyes of her grandsire, she held a special place, even her mother dared not scold her in his presence. He playfully took Rhaewina's side in any dispute. It was from that day forward that she decided her dance lessons mattered less than making her grandsire smile. She would rush to the terrace on the east, embracing him tightly. And not only her grandsire but she had also noticed that his trusted companion, Lord Lyonel, took delight in her cheerful company.

A pact had been forged between Rhaewina and Lyonel Strong: her secret of skipping dance lessons was safe with him, a secret he vowed never to reveal to anyone, including her grandsire. Often, he would gift her delectable sweets, specially procured from his own house, which she relished with glee.

On several occasions, she'd teasingly tell him that she had two grandfathers, the king himself and the King's Hand, rendering her untouchable in the realm. His response was always the same: a gentle pat on her head, a soft smile, and a profound silence.

In her heart, she held this trio close as her small, happy family—herself, her beloved grandsire, and Lord Lyonel Strong. They laughed together, basked in each other's company, and savored the view from their elevated vantage point.

But there was one more person she longed to welcome into this cherished happy family, only if... he actually becomes happy for once, that one person who's always having huge anger on his nose, that one person who's stare is always filled with godly arrogance, that one person roaming with sadness and irritation on his face showing he doesn't need anyone whole time, that one person who's training with his wooden sword so hard that it looks like it might breaks right now, that person for who's the actual reason of her missing lessons. Aemond, there he was... doing his daily practice with other kids.

Although she would like to believe otherwise, Aemond was not the sole reason. She cherished this time spent with her small, happy family, but why not enjoy the presence of that one person she yearned to see more often? Wasn't that simply splendid ?

Her 7th name day ;

At a feast celebrating her 7th name day, Rhaewina's friends from House Lannister engaged in discussions about fairy tales and knights. The conversation took an unexpected turn from necklaces to potential husbands. One of the princesses expressed her desire for a handsome knight as her husband. Princess Felicia of House Bracken then stood and shared her wish to marry a Lannister prince, turning to Rhaewina and asking her opinion. This question caused Rhaewina to blush, pondering who she might marry.

After a mischievous pause, Felicia continued, suggesting, "I believe a Baratheon would suit you." Rhaewina strongly disagreed, as she held a negative view of the Baratheons, finding them too impetuous for her liking.

Another friend added, "Maybe a Greyjoy would be a match!" Felicia playfully inquired, "So, who will be your partner, little Rhae? A Greyjoy, Baratheon, or Blackwood? They all have their appeal."

Rhaewina retorted, "Neither Greyjoy, nor Baratheon, nor Blackwood would be my choice. I have no interest in princes from these houses"

Her handmaiden, Shaila, suggested, "Perhaps the princess will marry within her own house. Targaryens and Valyrians do intermarry, don't they?"

Felicia nodded, saying, "Indeed. In that case, you and Jace will be wed."

Rhaewina vehemently dismissed this notion, stating, "No, I will marry someone else, not Jace."

Felicia argued, "Don't lie; we've all heard about Aegon. He's destined to marry Heleana."

Rhaewina countered, "I don't want to marry either of them. I wish..." She stumbled over her words, then continued, "I think Prince Aemond might be my future husband"

Their shocked reactions were unanimous. Even her handmaiden wore a disbelieving expression. Nevertheless, Rhaewina persisted, "Yes, he excels in swordsmanship more than any other prince. He's handsome, obedient, and always protective of me. He's the second son of my grandsire, who is the King, and I am a Valyrian princess. We are a perfect match, and he's only three years older than me. I believe our parents will make this decision in the future as well. Yes Aemond will be my husband."

Felicia let out a delicate, feigned giggle, capturing little Rhaewina's attention. Quizzing her, Rhaenwina asked, "Why did you do that?"

She replied in an unconcerned tone, "Oh, I did nothing. Your thoughts about Prince Aemond are indeed quite charming."

The other princesses and their attendants joined in giggles, much to Rhaewina's irritation. After all, it was her nameday. Asserting herself, Rhaenwina retorted, "It's not mere daydreaming. Aemond and I are destined to be wed. He will be my husband, the perfect match."

Felicia and her lady-in-waiting Joyce rolled their eyes and muttered, almost in a whisper, "As if Prince Aemond would ever entertain such notions."

Never before had Rhaewina felt this surge of anger, moreover on her nameday. With resolve, she stated, "He will accept it, I'm sure. He cares for me, and we share happiness. I love him dearly."

Joyce shot back with a snide remark, "Are you absolutely certain, Princess Rhaewina, that he doesn't hold any regard for another princess? Perhaps... there?"

Rhaewina fought the urge to shout and cry, but her tiny voice managed to muster, "No! Prince Aemond is always there for me, always protective. He enjoys spending time with me. He even teaching me Valyrian language"

The last part was untrue; he never taught her Valyrian. Though she wished to learn from him, he avoided it. Despite her disinterest, learning the language held significance, as her mother had informed her.

She could have learned it from her mother, her grandsire, or anyone else, just like Aemond learned from maesters, dragon keepers, and trainers. But blinded by love, she missed this chance to spend more time with him, observing how he imparted lessons to Daeron. In that moment, she resolved to learn Valyrian solely from him. Even if she avoided others, she would not skip Aemond's lessons in the language.

Rhaewina's anger toward her friends' teasing and covert giggles reached a boiling point. She yearned to disprove them, determined to showcase her sincerity. She gathered her gown's skirt and stormed away from them, her footsteps rapid and small.

Joyce let out a sigh and turned to Felicia and the others, saying, "Let it be. She's merely indulging in her fantasies. It's an impossibility. Her dreams won't materialize."Felicia, her patience already thin, as she toyed with her hair strands, commented, "My friend Maris also fancies Prince Aemond, but she doesn't carry on as foolishly as Rhaewina. Aemond hardly converses with any princess. It's clear he isn't interested in her. I'm confident he only spends time with her due to the absence of his own dragon, much like her. The moment he obtains a dragon, he won't waste a single second on her, as she so adores. His preference is solely for a genuine Targaryen princess"

These words, spoken unintentionally loud, reached Rhaewina's ears. They stung, ached. Why had Flora spoken these words? What did she mean by a "genuine Targaryen princess ?" Rhaenwina was herself a Valyrian princess, the rightful one who Aemond would eventually marry. Her heart, filled with a tinge of jealousy, constructed a narrative in which her friends, particularly Felicia and Maris, taunted her out of envy.

Her enraged eyes blazed with intensity as she unleashed a tirade about Flora's perceived clumsiness and how she herself was unquestionably more attractive. In the heat of her fury, Rhaewina failed to notice the collision about to occur with Aemond. Her disposition took an abrupt turn as their paths converged. Her ire gave way to a bashful blush in an instant.

Aemond observed her petite form with curiosity and remarked, "Where are you wandering so blindly, little niece? Your grandsire was eager to inundate your pea sized brain with his ceaseless chatter; he was looking for you. I lost count of how many times he asked"

Rhaewina couldn't help but giggle "My grandsire is your father too, Aemond. Speaking of the king that way is rather disrespectful. You might end up in trouble," she teased him, her clownish grin on full display.

#house of dragons #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond x fem!reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond x fem!oc #dark aemond targaryen #yandere aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic

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aspecpplarebeautiful · 9 months

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Ok so context needed: I am acearoapl and neurodivergent (autistic). It was always hard for me to try to "make friends" with other people, and even when people tried to make friends with me, it was horrible because everyone had the same conversations that bothered me (romance, crushes, marriage, kids...). But, a while ago (more specifically about 4-5 years) one of those friends told me that he liked me (in the romantic sense, as you can imagine).

At that time, I already knew that I was aroace, so I just said it, explained the definition to him, and tried to comfort him in his feelings and his identity (because apparently thanks to me he found out he was bi). He really took it perfectly well and it was the first time anyone had taken me so well. He didn't even try to convince me to have a relationship with him, he just accepted it and unintentionally, we ended up getting closer.

He ended up discovering many other things, and in less than a year, he found out that he was transmasc and aroacespec, and a little over a year later, he found out that he was also neurodivergent. Since then, the two of us have simply become an inseparable duo. It was just wonderful, everyone was talking about romance and sex, except for us, we had a unique friendship!!

He was the only person who understood me, our conversations were exactly what I expected from a friendship, and even with very strong social anxiety, I trusted him like I never trusted many of my family members. He was practically a brother to me and he knew it. But at the beginning of the year, something happened that changed everything.

He decided to try dating a friend of his (who he and I had known for about 3 years). I know very well that aromantic people can enjoy romance and relationships and even though this is not my type of aromantism, I was very, very dedicated in encouraging him to have his first relationship! I tried to help with everything he needed, relationship advice (which I only gave based on anti-amatonormativity ideas), positivity, validation... I was really trying to make him happy. It was strange for me to see him dating or talking about romance or even in love in general, but I didn't care much, after all we still had the same conversations as before, but now some of them included romance, and I could get used to that. I still had the same amount of attention from him, so I didn't mind him dating.

After a while, he started to pay less attention to me, but he was in trouble so I tried to help him. Unfortunately, despite my advice, the problems were not resolved and his girlfriend ended up breaking up with him, and even though it was very peaceful, he was very sad. I tried to help him not feel so bad and try to deal with it in a healthy way (and I was also trying to prevent him from saying something to her on impulse and ending up regretting it later). In the end, it ended up working out, as they went back to being friends like they were before!

And while all this was going on, he was making other friends at his school (since we weren't studying together anymore) and I couldn't be happier for him, really! I was also making other friends, so it was a relief to me that none of us were doing badly. But my friends ended up slowly drifting away from me (for the same reason as before, the conversations I never seem to be able to join) and so now things weren't so balanced anymore.

It got to the point where I went back to the way it was before, where I was alone at school and he was my only friend, except now we talk exclusively on the cell phone (because I can't leave my house) and now he has other friends. At first he gave me the same amount of attention as before, and then it slowly subsided, but I kind of coped well, I was hoping that everything would go back to normal when he managed to organize his time better.

It turns out that about two months ago, he still hadn't paid attention to me, and it seemed like I was the only person trying to bring up a subject (even if the response was pretty curt) and the little he came out to talk with me, it was to vent about one of his crushes. Yes, crushes. He started to like some people. And those crushes changed frequently. And now I was sharing my (minimal) attention with even more people and when I received attention it was to comfort him from one of these relationships, but thinking about it seemed selfish so I held back and didn't say anything. He was still my only aro friend who understood me, even though he was a different kind of aro.

And that was until a week ago, when he told me he was starting to rethink the "aro" label. He said that he no longer identified himself that way, and that the allorospec experience felt much more like his experience. I would never want to make anyone feel bad about changing labels, so I, again, sided with him and tried not to get hurt. But it has only gotten worse these past few days.

Now I realize that he has become exactly like those "friends" that I turned away from because I couldn't talk to them. And I tried really hard to fix that, to find subjects that we both like, but he already assumed that he's literally struggling to talk to me because he doesn't like those subjects the same anymore. I don't know exactly what to do. I've been insisting for so long, and it seems like it's only hurting me, it's like insisting on something knowing it won't make a difference. I wanted him back, but I feel like I'm never going to get that thing back.

My only question is: should I give up dwelling on it, or continue? I'm tired now, but I swear I would insist if I could get that connection back.

While I wouldn't advise dwelling, it is OK to acknowledge that the situation sucks and maybe even mourn the relationship you used to have together. You can also accept and support who someone is now, and at the same time miss who they used to be.

If you're having trouble moving forward, sometimes journaling can help, try writing out all your feelings about the situation, or document all the events and whatever else you feel is important. You can also try a little ritual to say goodbye to your old relationship if you want, like maybe burning (safely) the above journal entry, or turning the paper into compost and growing something with it.

I definitely feel you on feeling frustrated with just how much some people/groups talk about romance/relationships. It can feel like everyone, but there are people out there who are less interested in that, or people who have other interests you can steer things to. Anecdotally at least, this does seem to get better as you get older and people do tend to start finding interests in other things. So don't lose hope at finding connections with other people if that's something you want.

All the best, Anon! Take care.

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proceduralpassion · 8 months

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The Oil Has Run Thin

Day 7 of Narcoctober- Make something centered around non-death dark topics (we have a specific death day already). Morally or emotionally dark topics/themes.

Characters: Walt Breslin x OC (Soraya Turner); platonic but could be more 👀

CW: drugs/intoxication/hallucinations

WC: 884

A/N: Something smol for the Walt girlies, y'know?

Was it a knock that had woken her? Or was it the screaming? So loud. Incessant shrieking. Soraya opens her eyes and they bounce around the room, looking for the source of those horrible shrieks.

When her vision focuses, she realizes that she’s in a hospital room. Pain ricochets throughout her head as she thrashes around. Her arms and legs are sore and she finds that she’s restrained when she looks down at herself. There are scratch marks on her hands and clots of dried blood are lodged beneath her fingernails.

There’s no one else in the room with her at the moment, but a flash of movement at the door garners her attention. It’s her partner, Walt. They’ve been partners ever since they were given their assignment in Mexico together. A kinship had arisen between the two of them, and it feels sudden how they’ve gone from complete strangers to people who’d take bullets for each other.

Her mind is rattling around with so many thoughts, so many questions. She’s able to see through the fog for a second and see the crushed look on Walt’s face. Why did he look so broken?

It hurts her. Her heart feels cracked because she’s never seen him so shattered before. They’ve seen a lot of each other. Frustration. Anger. And yes, even sadness. But this is utter misery painted on her partner’s face right now and she can even see the fear that he lets through. Usually, she can tell when he’s scared because he has intricate little tells like a twitching of his fingers or the inability to sit down. But that’s because he hides it and hides it well. To anyone on the outside looking in, he seems impatient and maybe even pissed off, but Soraya’s always been able to differentiate when he’s scared because of how much effort he puts into making it not look like so.

But he’s terrified right now as he looks at her and she doesn’t know why.

She doesn’t know a lot of things. She’s not sure she even knows why she’s in the hospital, much less restrained.

Her whole body’s in pain and she can barely focus, but that’s not giving her any answers right now.

Walt, himself, was still trying to come to terms with what happened. He’d been on coms the entire time during the undercover sting. The work the two of you had put in was mostly paper trails and listening to tapes, but you two were also dedicated to chasing down any and every lead possible. When you get the tip on a new low level runner within the Guadalajara cartel, you take the opportunity to create a sting and get him on charges. The hope was to get him a lighter sentence in exchange for more intel that would help them catch and fry the bigger fish.

It all happened so fast. Too fast for Walt to even realize what was happening. He’s not even sure what happens in the short time it takes for him to realize that he’s lost comms with her. As he waits for news on his partner, he reflects and tries to think back to how he missed it. How her cover was blown. When exactly it was blown. What had happened to her in the time between when her comms went out and when he was picking her up bridal style and rushing for an ambulance.

“The cocaine was laced,” the doctor explains, “We’ve got to run more tests to get a better idea of what exactly is causing her symptoms. Until then, she needs to be in restraints. For her own safety.”

In the ambulance, Soraya had started clawing at her arms, frantically screaming that there was a chip inside and that the mad men were out to get her.”

Her eyes were like pinballs in an arcade game, dotting everywhere with an unfocused gaze. She wasn’t making any sense as Walt held her arms and it was like she wasn’t even aware of her surroundings.

The doctor had gone to go check on Soraya and let Walt know whether he could see her or not. As he waited, he rubbed his forehead continually before wringing his hands and pacing the floors. He was infuriated. At their perp, who was now in the wind. At himself, even more so. His plans were always failure after failure and now they had gotten someone he cared about in a dire situation.

When the doctor gives him the go ahead, Walt knocks on her door, although he’s sure that she probably doesn’t hear it. He walks in and is stuck to his feet at the sight of her.

He did this.

The restraints.

The deep scratches on your arm.

The crazed and scared look on your face.

Your eyes meet him and for a second, Walt thinks she recognizes him.

But then, she’s back to wracking her body and scanning the room, looking for something, even as Walt rushes over, trying to calm her.

Soraya looks at him again, fear and inquiry coloring her features, “What is that?! Who is that screaming?!”

Walt’s breath catches in his throat as he continues stroking her arm in what he hopes is comforting.

“It’s you, Soraya.”

A/N: Def plan on writing more for them at some point, kinduva obsessed with them idk Click here if you wanna be added to my taglist. Taglist: @asirensrage @ashlingnarcos @narcosfandomdiscord @drabbles-mc

#narcos mexico #narcoctober #walt breslin #walt breslin x oc #c: soraya turner

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bewitchingbaker · 21 days

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❣

A certain hellhound's ear's perk up at the artist's question, one red eye looking at the busy baker. He lays his head back down as he relaxes on his bed. Despite only knowing Chris for a few years, he had gotten a good read on the young witch. Plus, it helped that Chris was more than happy to talk to Quas about his personal life.

The hellhound relished in Chris's tales of the comedian who melted his heard and the boyhood crushes he shared. But in between those stories, his friend picked up on a few of the young Luna's qualities in romance.

"While my friend can be a little unaware of those with romantic feelings, he does have his great qualities once he's dedicated to a lover."

Quas chuckles.

"First, if HIs lovers have any problems, they become his problems. He will take on any and everytHing for his lovers. I'm sUrpRIsed he hasn't told you about fighting rival vampires for his past love, AcACia."

"Second, the baker will always have a outing prepared. Whether it is a special tavern or a royal gathering. One will never have to worry about a lack of planning for engagements."

"Third, Chris is known to shower his lovers in affection whenever they need it. If his tales are true, many of his past lovers reveled in the affection and attention he would give them. Even the oh so terrible Xavier enjoyed this."

A knowing chuckle followed.

It wasn't long before a knowing scowl finds its way to his face.

"But like anything goOd, the bad must come with. As I've stated, your problems become his problems. But he seldom lets his problems becomes his lovers problems. He feels as though he can take cARe of his own issues. I believe he worries about carrying on the LUNA's tradition of taking advantage of pEOple's time."

A sigh.

"He can be a bit toO...cArInG around his loVErs. While everyone likes his affections, sometimes it can be overwhelming. Personally, I believe he wants them to know they're loved but some people may need a break from so much caring."

The hellhound takes one last look at Chris to see if he's paying attention before he makes his final statement.

"The baker dOEsn'T FEar MUCh...but he does fear his lovers seeing him...in a not so delightful mood. Especially in regards to his family's complicated history with him. My friend believes his wrath and sadness is ugly and it will drive people away. But I beleive his lovers will still find beauty in him, even with his less than happy side."

Quas gives a firm nod at the details before resting his head in Zora's lap.

"the PriCE of such information has a cost. I beleive I have earned rather fine pets at your hAND as they ArE A little more rare to get with your schEdDule these days. "

[ @escapedartgeek ]

#escapedartgeek #; ic #; Lord Quas Speaks

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massvoraciuseffect · 2 months

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What's the largest number of sapients that Tali has eaten in a single day? Was she in a food coma afterwards or was she too full to even fall asleep?

-Oh, yeah. I remember when I got so full that I went into a food coma after only a few hours of long and tedious digestion. When was that.... - Tali closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, immersing herself in her own memory. - It had been shortly after the mission to the Collector base, but before Shepard had completed the special mission requested by Admiral Hackett to rescue his scientist friend. At that time, the Normandy crew was still together, and we assisted Shepard during her missions in the Terminus systems. Once we arrived on Illium, Shepard gave the entire crew a five day vacation. That's when I got weird. - Tali grinned, remembering the incident. - Mind you, this all happened before the Reaper invasion, and before the Normandy predators had reformed almost all of their preys. We were much larger than we are now.

Tali ran her palm over her broad hips with a touch of sadness - back then, they'd been large and heavy enough to crush Ymir's mech if you sat on it.

- It started with two asari vendors who asked me to eat them and let them rest on my thighs for a couple days - decided to have a little day off that way. I didn't see a problem with that. Then, after a short shopping spree, I was approached by a group of 4 Quarians on Pilgrimage. It turned out they'd already prepared their gifts, but couldn't find a way to get back to the Fleet without going bankrupt on flights. And then they saw me, a Quarian with a vore-implant. And they asked me to carry them back home in my stomach - replacing the suits would cost a lot less than the flight tickets. Of course I didn't refuse. Then some asari businesswoman, who was watching me swallow my compatriots, called her company before my eyes and said she was going on vacation for an indefinite period of time. After which she came over and demanded that I eat her! I probably should have said no, but how juicy her breasts looked in that dress, mmmm~ And she was delicious herself. But devouring her was the trigger - next I was approached by: 3 more asari saleswomen, another businesswoman, 2 salarian engineers, 2 turian mercenaries, and most importantly, a whole gang of asari hunters! 12 asari, one after another! And their leader was a predator with a very lush form. But that's not all!

-When I realized that it looked like today was my day dedicated to the feast of the belly, while I could still move calmly, I went towards the matriarch Etita's bar - I knew that there were booths for predators where I could calmly relax and digest my preys. And on the way, I ate 3 more....no, there was another boor who called me a trash can... 4 asari. But they didn't ask it, they were just rude to me, and they paid for it. At the bar, I thought I would eat at most another couple of asari, and just spend the day lying in a booth, digesting preys and watching a movie. But as luck would have it, at that moment there was a bunch of daughters of matrons from corporations in the bar, as people say, "golden youth". Word for word, plus I drank a little bit of Turian whiskey - and all 6 asari went into my belly. And it wasn't over yet. Their guards came, 8 more mercenaries who were not happy that I swallowed their charges. So I reunited them. Then there were employees of those same corporations - 7 people....No, 8. I had no desire to listen to their threats, so I devoured them without even listening. And then the matrons themselves arrived. 3 tall, juicy ladies who, in their arrogance, came too close to me without thinking how delicious they looked to me. Mmmm~.... In general, by the evening, Eta had to carry me with biotics to a cubicle for predators - I couldn't move myself anymore. And the total amount eaten will be .....55 sapients in about 6 hours. Not bad, isn't it~

#muse: tali

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