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#obviously picture to burn was before jake but still
atwtsf · 10 days ago
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taylor + being crazy/insane (or the original gaslighting comment and how it’s been re-interpreted in her art)
some inspiration from here and here
1K notes · View notes
enhyupn · 7 months ago
enhypen helping you bake!
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ot7!enhypen x gn!reader
fluff, mentions of food + no other warnings i think of!
word count: 1.2k
a/n i wanted to try and change how i lay these out but i still kinda feel like it’s unnatural for me 🙏
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ʚ heeseung
i have no idea why but i feel like heeseung is a tart type of baker
OH and muffins
like specifically strawberry??? or apple tarts??? and blueberry muffins
will only help you with like the mixing
you could be freaking out because something’s burning but heeseung’s like 🧍‍♂️cause he doesn’t know what to do
nevertheless he is VERY helpful
you will always reassure him that
complains when you share with the rest of the enhypen members because he wants them all to himself
will probably beg for you to bake with him again
and you will because you would do anything for him
probably asks if you could decorate the muffins with frosting
you end up trying to explain to him that muffins don’t usually have frosting
but in the end you give up put frosting on them because it looks pretty
“can i help you bake again” “who am i to say no to you?”
rest of the members under the cut!
ʚ jay
you two would probably bake something like pretzels
he thinks it’d be a challenge because he thought the tasty video he watched about it looker hard
jay would 100% do anything you ask him to do
you could ask him to do like three things at once because you were busy and he’d just. Do it
you two take turns kneading the dough because jay said it’d be mean if you just did it yourself
you two also probably end up bickering in the middle of baking
“it says a teaspoon of salt jay” “i have a teaspoon of salt though?” “that’s a tablespoon in your hand”
i feel like jay’s a more savoury person instead of sweet
so he would definitely beg you to make them like rock salt flavour
idk pretzel flavours sadly
you two use rock paper scissors to decide everything
it probably took a while to finish </3 like five hours just for them to be done baking
jay would probably take a lot of pictures and put them up everywhere
by the time you finish cleaning up, you have like twenty notifications from jay tagging you on three different apps
ʚ jake
jake is a cookie person. i don’t care what any of you say he is a Cookie Person.
he is way too excited and giddy about helping you bake
he helps you weigh out the ingredients with like a huge smile
he holds the bowl for you when you mix things </3
he’s a little scared you’re gonna make a mess but it’s still cute
will take pictures of your progress and send them to his enhypen gc
they don’t really care but have no choice to reply cheerily since jake’s excited about it
jake’s the type to playfully throw flour at you to get your attention
you scold him but you think it’s kinda adorable
he makes shapes with the dough and gets confused when it looks completely different when out of the oven
“why does my heart look so ugly”
he just ends up laughing about it for a while
it’s all over his ig and sc story
decorates them specially for the enhypen members as presents <3
ʚ sunghoon
i have no idea why but. he would probably help you bake bread
not anything hard like sourdough probably just some ten minute bread tutorial you found while scrolling through tiktok
he is very confused when you don’t add yeast
like he’ll just constantly be asking where the yeast is
“why is there no yeast” “i’m using baking powder, it’s the same... i think”
he doesn’t understand but it’s okay because you don’t either
he probably makes disgusted noises when you mix the ingredients together
he’s very confused about why you decided to follow a bread recipe from tiktok
“this looks so gross” “i don’t think i asked for your opinion”
he doesn’t even end up helping because he’s too busy being fascinated by your creation
he jokes by telling you that you’re breads burning when they’re in the oven
when it comes out he tells you he’ll never eat it
he ends up eating it, spoiler alert
ʚ sunoo
will instantly help you when you mention you’re baking a cake
i feel like he likes sifting the dry ingredients out
he probably hates the feeling of butter when it gets on his fingers or hands
he likes whipping the egg whites and you probably get anxious because you think he’ll end up over whipping them
he wants to help you with everything. And i Mean everything
thinks you’re gonna spill the batter everywhere when you pour it into the mould
is very. Concerned about if the cake’s gonna burn in the oven
you try and tell him it won’t but he still ends up standing in front of the oven with you
obviously helps you with decorating
let’s you do the frosting because it seems the least fun
will go crazy with the sprinkles
will definitely ask if he can help you again
tells riki about the cake
ends up probably talking about how he helped you bake a cake for the rest of the day
ʚ jungwon
sees you baking something like cheesecake and just joins in
like he probably comes out of nowhere and asks you when he should add the vanilla extract
“when do i put in the—” “oh my god you scared me”
you just let him help you because the more the merrier
you want to stay on trend so you make it mint choco
he hates. Mint chocolate
will definitely fight you about it for a while
“why would you choose mint chocolate? why?” “i didn’t know this was your cheesecake”
he loses because you had a better argument against his
makes side comments when you put them into their moulds probably
you end up just laughing them off because you know he’s just teasing you
he ends up telling his gc if they agree with mint chocolate
he shows you everyone that says no </3
by the time you’ve finished it’s probably late at night
you try once again for him to just at least try it
it doesn’t work
ʚ ni-ki
would ni-ki really be baking with you if it wasn’t bungeoppang 🤨
even though he cooks it everyday he will always!!! help!!! you!!! with!!! it!!!
will whip out the mould thing he has for it
if it burns he will quietly blame it on you because he knows someone’s gonna complain about it
will make so many to show it off to the enhypen members <3
will constantly ask you if you’re okay or if you need help
i feel like he’d be so excited to be cooking bungeoppang that something just goes wrong
the batter would probably spill all over the stove and you two have to clean it up before jay starts scolding the two of you
will eat it as he watched you make more
plates them prettily so he can take videos and pictures to remember the moment
shows them off to everyone
after helping you he definitely mentions you every time he makes bungeoppang
“i remember i helped y/n with—” “we know... we know...”
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do-you-need-a-hacker · a month ago
Six years - 9
Previous part: Confusion
Next part: Heartbreak
Note - Please read the warnings listed in the summary.
The sun gently wakes me up, and it takes me a while to realize I didn’t have any nightmares. The thought of Jake’s eyes accompanied me all night. Those eyes I gazed when he kept me from falling in the hallway. Blue, as I always knew.
Jake is not in the room, but I can tell he came back from the travel bag next to my bed. I stand up carefully and open it, only to find out he picked up at least three different outfits. I picture him perfectly, hesitating in front of my wardrobe, not knowing what to take. Until I notice the pair of underwear, carefully folded at the bottom of the bag.
OK, so you invited him to open your underwear drawer. Next time, think!
I take the whole bag with me into the small bathroom. The mirror shows the reflection of a ghost. I am awfully white, except for the blue finger marks on my throat. Even my body seems different after last night, as if I am slowly disappearing, both fading and shrinking.
Hot water washes my body, covers my tears but doesn’t clean my thoughts. I still feel his touch on my stomach, on my breasts, between my thighs. But not on my hips, not on my face. Those are still burning from Jake’s hands.
It is pretty obvious now, isn’t it? You love him. You never stopped loving him. He makes you feel safe. Somehow, he saved you.
I put on a pair of jeans with a basic shirt and a large and soft pullover. Jake even brought my favorite pair of snickers. What a relief not to wear my heels. Could Jake be even more perfect? It seems he could: inside the bag, there is a small toilet kit, with my toothbrush, a comb and my hair brush.
After a while, I am presentable enough to be seen by another human being. Jake welcomes me with a warm smile before turning his head to a tall blonde woman.
— Well, let’s ask her, shall we? He seems a little upset with her. MC, would you rather stay here a couple more days although you are physically fine, or go home?
— That’s the point, she’s not fine. After what she went through last nig-…
— After what she went through, it will take her more than a couple days to recover, he says in a cold voice I never heard. How can you suggest otherwise?
— She shouldn’t stay alone.
— She has me.
The doctor is frowning now. Jake has this effect on people. Well, most of them… She remains silent for a few seconds.
— Her ankle…
— I’ll make sure she rests until the end of the week.
He turns to me once again.
— What do you prefer, MC?
Nothing would please me more than disagreeing with him. Back then as well, he sometimes had this commanding behavior. But, as frustrated as I am, he is right.
— I don’t want to stay. Could you discharge me? The blonde woman nods reluctantly.
Jake’s car is parked in front of the gate. Jake moved it right before I was discharged.
— Wait a second.
He moves the passenger seat back, but I refuse his help to sit. I have done fine on my own for the past six years. And to be honest, I am afraid of his touch. Would his hands burn my skin again through my clothes?
The car starts to move and I watch the buildings scroll in front of my eyes.
— Tell me, MC... Why did you ask for my help?
I turn to him. He seems so serious, and sad at the same time.
— Besides the fact the cop I talked to was an ass… I had a colleague, five years ago. One morning, she calls the office. I pick up. She says she’ll be late, and I can hear she’s crying. It turns out she was just assaulted in the subway. She’s still at a station, everyone is walking past her as if she was not there. She’s clearly shocked, so I have to tell her to find an agent.
I am already out of breath.
— And since it’s Friday, all our male colleagues think that she’s lying and this is her own dramatic way to call in sick. But she comes, a few hours later, and she apologizes that her statement took so long. Then, she tells me the details. The cop asked if she had been raped. She said no.
Jake can obviously notice how emotional I am, but he doesn’t say anything.
— And just like that, what happened to her didn’t matter. It was in the subway. There were cameras, she said where the man got on and off the train, and it was never solved. So, when the cop asked me, yesterday, I knew what his question really meant.
He stops at a red light and slowly answers, as if he is still looking for his next word.
— I’m sorry to hear that, MC. It sucks. It really sucks that all these cases are never investigated. But if I have to be completely honest… I’m relieved. Because it means you were not raped. And because I will find the culprit.
And just like that, I realize that so far, Jake thought I had been raped.
— I kicked him in the nuts.
I can’t help but smiling. I kicked a man in the nuts. Saying it makes me feel proud of myself.
— Jake… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. It was so obvious to me that it didn’t happen, I mean… I didn’t even think that’s what you had in mind.
— Forget about it… I… I wrongly assumed the worst.
His jaw is trembling a little behind his pursed lips.
— After what you said about the cop, it made sense you asked me to help. That was not my point.
I am not sure where he is going with that, but I can predict I won’t like it.
— You asked for me. Before I came. I’m still wondering why.
You’re not the only one.
— I did, I admit. But not for help.
The car stops once again. His gaze is detailing me as if he is trying to read my mind.
— I’ll explain you another time, I added to make him stop. Why did you stop?
He doesn’t try to hide his disappointment.
— We’re there. I take a look outside. You know, you could go to my place, if you wanted. I mean… You still need to rest your ankle a couple days. I could… I could cook for you, and… Do anything you need so that you don’t need to walk.
Saying Jake is uncomfortable right now would be an understatement. His face is red and he is avoiding my gaze.
— Of course, if you prefer to be home, I could still come everyday to make sure you have everything you need. Unless the reason you want to be home is that you want to be alone. Or freed from me.
He’s laughing, nervously. He really means these words. Especially the last part. The tension is so heavy I need some air. How could I stand being in the same room as Jake for several days? Not to mention sleep in the same apartment?
— I’d rather be at my own place.
My tone is more abrupt that I intended, and I can see I hurt him. Jake doesn’t complain. He nods silently and helps me to the door.
— I’ll check on you later, he mumbles. Don’t hesitate to call first if you need me.
Finally, he’s leaving. Just when I think I can't breathe anymore.
I always need you. It just seems I’ll explode when you’re around.
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sapphireplums · a year ago
You’re Not Alone
Description: Y/N Barber the twin sister of Jacob Barber decided to go for a jog one day, but who knew her whole life can change in matters of seconds.
Warnings: angst, language, sexual assault -DON'T READ IF YOU’RE NOT COMFORTABLE
Pairing: Andy Barber x Daughter!Reader Jacob Barber x Sister!Reader
A/N:  if any of you guys have ever been assaulted in any type of way, i'm so sorry that has happened to you. you guys are all beautiful and strong human beings. if anyone wants to talk my inbox is open :) 
While reading this, listen to lovely by billie eilish. it really sets the mood for the story. 
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A second. It only took seconds for you to not pick up your phone call from your brother. It was one of those moments where you did not to pick up the phone because you were distracted. But because of that, it almost cost you your life. 
You and your older twin brother Jacob were walking home from school arguing about what dog is cuter. You know, the ususal twin stuff.
“No, Jake, German Shepherds are the cutest dog out.” You said with confidence.
“No, Y/N, Corgi’s are the cutest obviously.” Your twin brother kept saying. “ And I'm obviously right because I'm older than you by 49 seconds.”
He always used the ‘older twin’ card on you.
The argument lasted about a few minutes until you guys just gave up and agreed that they were both cute. However, in your mind , you kept saying German Shepherds were better.
“I’m hungry Jake. What do you think we’re going to have for dinner tonight?” You said as your stomach was rumbling.
“ You thinking what I’m thinking?” Jacob said with a smirk knowing that your twin telepathy was tingling. 
“Ohhh yessss.” Then you both shouted at the same time:
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When you guys got home, you saw your mom on the couch typing something on her laptop. 
“Hey kids, how was school today?” Laurie said looking up from her laptop.
“It was good mom” You said and you gave Jacob the look basically saying ‘tell mom we want kfc’
Jacob groaned. “Mom can we get kfc for dinner? Me and Y/N have been craving it for a while”
“Is that your guys’ twin thingy where you want the same thing and think the same thing?” Laurie said smiling at the thought of  how her kids got along so well and had a strong sibling bond.
“ Yes mom, yes it is.” you said as chips were being stuffed into your mouth. “But can we actually get kfc though? Jake and I have been craving it for a while.”
“Sure you guys, I’ll pick it up around the time you dad will come home”
“Thanks Mom.” You both said at the same time. 
Going up to your guys’ room, Jacob turned on his video games while you were watching YouTube. 
He was talking to his gaming friend through the earpiece yelling words at him and the tv.
You just rolled your eyes and smiled slightly at your brothers actions. Closing your laptop, you looked outside the window and saw that it was a nice day, so you asked Jacob if he wanted to take a jog with you. 
“ Hey Jake, do you want to take a jog with me? It’s really nice outside right now.”
“ Sorry, maybe not this time sis. I’m really into this game.” Jacob said making you frown slightly.
“It’s okay Jake maybe next time.” Jacob turned his head towards you and smiled in agreeance. 
You got ready and then tied your shoes when you were near the door. 
“Mom, I’m going for a jog!” You yelled as you finished tying your shoes. 
“Okay honey be home before dinner.” Your mom said as she was washing the dishes. 
Running around the block, you took in the fresh air of the moisture that was in the air. Living in Massachusetts also meant wet weather which you loved. Summer wasn't really your favorite season but it was Jacobs. Being twins doesn’t mean you all like the same thing.
You and Jacob had the best sibling relationship not because you were twins, but that you just bonded in general. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you and you thought the same.
Getting tired from the constant running, you decided to take a walking break and scroll through Instagram. As you were scrolling, your screen lit up with your dads contact picture. It was the two of you on a fishing trip making funny faces.
“Hey dad how’s work?” You asked slightly out of breath due to the running. 
“ Hey Sweetheart, after work I’m going to go to the grocery store and get those cookies you really like and I was thinking you and I can have a movie night?” 
“Dad, you know I’m always up for movie night” you chuckled. “What about Jake and mom?”
“Mom texted me saying that she was going to go shopping for swim trunks or something and Jake is going too so it's just going to be you and me.” 
“Okay dad, sounds good to me can’t wai-” 
“I’m sorry honey I have to go back now, I’ll see you at home. I love you.”
“I love you too dad.” He hung up the phone rather quickly but you didn’t think much of it because you were going to see him at home anyways
Well so you thought. You thought you were going to be home at your normal time. Thinking that it would just be another normal day, but it would be far from that.
After the short walking break and talking to your dad, you decided to start your jogging again. Jogging was one of the activities you liked to do after a long day to release the stress that was contained in you. Sometimes you would go with Jacob but today he didn’t feel like it.
Imagine if you just stayed on call a little longer with your dad or if Jacob went with you. Everything would be different. Every decision you make on a day to day basis affects your life.
When jogging,  up ahead you saw a man drop a box full of what looked like children's toys like dolls and race cars. Being the nice person you were, You approached the man and helped him pick up the toys.
Oh what a big mistake. 
“Oh, sir, let me help you with that,” you said bending down picking up the toys that were on the ground. 
“Thank you so much, darling,” the man said with a somewhat creepy smile, but you brushed it off.
Your phone started to buzz and you saw your screen light up with Jacob’s face, but you ignored it as you were still helping the man.  You were thinking of just calling Jacob back later when you had the chance. 
If you had the chance.
After helping the man, he stated his thanks to you. 
“Thank you again, honey,” you really started to get freaked out by this man especially since he was calling you these names. 
You gave him a nervous smile. “  You’re welcome, but I should get going now,” you said but before you could turn around and go back home, the man grabbed your wrist tightly, preventing you from going anywhere. 
“You are right where I want you sweetheart”
Before you could scream, he covered your mouth with a wet towel. The smell was really bad. Next thing you know, you’re knocked out like a light switch. 
You woke up with a pounding headache. Trying to flutter your eyes open, you noticed you were in the backseat of a van. The next thing you saw made you panic. Your hands tied with your feet attached to them making it look like a fetus position. 
Before you could try and do anything, the man opened the doors to the van, revealing a wicked grin. Your eyes grew wide when he started to grow closer to you with duct tape. 
“Shhh don’t worry love I won't take long.”
You were confused what he meant by that. What did he mean he won’t take long?
That’s when it hit you like a truck. You were about to get raped. 
He started to put his hands around your breasts, trailing it up to your cheeks. He held your cheeks and stared into your eyes intently. This is when the tears started to come out. You couldn’t say anything since your mouth was duct taped, but you tried to move frantically though it didn’t do anything.
He started to take down his pants and he basically ripped your leggings in half.
Why did this have to happen? You were only being a good person, helping a man, and this is what happens in return.
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Jacob was starting to get worried and anxious. It’s been over an hour and you wouldn’t answer your phone. He probably called you literally a hundred times but still no answer. He asked your mom to call you to see if you would answer.
It went straight to voicemail.
Jacob started to panic even more. He decided to call your guys’ dad to see if he knows where you were.
The line started to ring. Then he picked up.
“Hey Jake, I was wondering if-” he was cut off by Jacob frantically asking him if he knew where you were.  
“Dad! Did Y/N ever call you or anything?” Jacob frantically said to his father. 
“ I talked to her about a couple hours ago, is everything alright?
“I-I don’t know dad. She didn’t come home after her jog and I’m getting a really bad twin vibe” 
“Shit, okay Jake, I’ll be home as soon as I can.” With that Jacob hung up the phone. 
“God Y/N/N, I hope you’re okay” Jacob said with tears on the verge of coming out. 
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When you woke up, you noticed that the familiar smell around your mouth. The man must have knocked you out. A burning pain was prominent in the lower half of your body. Everything started to come together. With your ripped pants and the bruises all over your body, you pieced everything together. 
You were raped.
All of the thoughts in your head, you didn’t even notice that you were not in the van anymore, no, you were at a park.
This park was all too familiar. It was the park you and Jacob loved when you were kids. You got up but fell back down due to the agonizing pain. 
The pain was unbearable. Tears threatening to come out of your eyes when you wanted to forget what happened. 
But you couldn’t forget.
You laid there on the cold cement floor.
The Barbers were in panic when they couldn’t find you. They had called the cops after being gone for six hours. 
The police didn’t find you yet and frankly, they were doing a lousy job at it. 
“Fuck it, I’m going to go for a drive and see if I find her” Andy said while stomping towards the front door.
“I’m coming with you.” Jacob said without question.
His baby sister was missing, he couldn’t just stay home and do nothing. Andy shook his head.
“No, Jake you need to stay here with your mother.” Before Jacob could object, a officer wanted to question him maybe knowing where you could be. 
Andy drove around the neighborhood first, but no luck. He drove about another couple blocks where he stumbled upon a park. He knew the park. It was you and Jacob’s favorite park.
He slowly drove past the park to see if there was any luck. At this point, Andy almost gave up and went back home until he saw something.
Andy’s eyes widened with fear and joy when he saw you, his baby girl, at the park. But his smile fell when he saw you laying on the ground.
What if you were dead? Andy thought to himself
“ Oh my God, Y/N!!!” Andy basically sprinted towards you.
You could barely get out the words since your throat was sore from crying so much. 
“Daddy?!” You said weakly with tears on your cheeks and your eyes bloodshot from the crying. 
“Y/N what happened?” 
But before you could answer, he saw your ripped pants, bruises on your body and the blood coming out near your legs.
“Oh my God, Y/N please tell me you weren’t raped?” Andy said with sadness but also extreme anger knowing that there was a bastard out there who possibly touched you. 
You could barely get out the words but all you said was “ I was d-daddy.”
Andy was furious at this point his worst nightmare came true. 
“ Y/N I’m so sorry. If only I stayed on the phone with you a little longer I could have-” You interrupted your father knowing this wasn’t his fault. 
“Dad, this was not your fault.” 
Andy still looked at you with sad eyes, but despite what happened to you, he was just happy that you were alive. 
“Come on baby let's go home” Andy said while carrying you bridal style.
“ I’m so sorry dad. I was just helping this one guy and-and he-” 
You started to stumble on your words but your dad stopped you.
“ No no baby you don’t have to say anything now. But know Duffy might ask you some questions so we can catch the guy okay?”
You just nodded at your dads words not wanting to say anything. 
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On the drive home Andy heard you sniffling he reassured you with comforting words. 
“Honey, it’s okay, you’re safe now nobody is going to hurt you now.” 
You thought back to when Jacob was calling you. “ You know Jake called me when I was helping that man,” you started. “ If only I answered his call this probably wouldn-”
You were cut off by your father. “Y/F/N do not say that. None of this was your fault it was that son of a bitches fault” 
You were taken aback when your dad cussed and then you chuckled softly. “Woah dad, I didn’t know you tolerated that type of language” 
Andy just laughed, but before you could say anything else, you noticed you were home. 
Jacob and Laurie were outside talking to police officers, but they turned around and saw you in the car.
Jacob eyes widened and was the first to run towards you and give you a hug. When he broke the hug, he looked at you and saw your bruises which made him fume with anger, but he would worry about that later. He was just happy you were home.
“Y/N oh my god are you okay?!” you just nod your head. 
You went to give Laurie a hug which lasted short when a voice spoke up. 
“ Hi Y/N, I’m detective Duffy, I work with your father and I’m sorry to ask you this but we need to question you while your mind is fresh.”
“Duffy can’t this wait until later we just found her.” Andy said while looking back at his daughter.
“No dad it’s okay I’ll be fine.” Jacob gave you sad eyes of sympathy, but you gave him a reassuring smile. 
“So Y/N, tell me from the start of what happened?” Your family was there to support you. You wanted them to be there. 
You started from the beginning with the jog, the man dropping the toys, the chloroform, the van, the pain in your lower area, everything.
Laurie just cried into Andy’s shoulders while his fists were clenched white. He was so angry. No, not at you, but at the fact that he couldn’t protect you. 
Jacob held your hand the entire time while you told Duffy what happened. He was angry that he didn’t go on the jog with you. He was mad that he couldn’t protect his baby sister. 
“Im so sorry this has happened to you Y/N, you should have not gone through that. We will find the man and he will be punished for his crimes.” 
You nodded and smiled slightly at Duffy. 
After all the cops left, you didn’t know what to do. You were still traumatized.
Your head was resting on Andy’s lap and your legs were on Jacobs. You were dozing off, but you were scared to sleep or eve close your eyes. 
Everytime you closed your eyes, you just saw the man. Jacob seemed to notice this because you flinched a little. 
He rubbed your leg with reassurance telling you that you’re okay now. 
“ Y/N you can finally sleep now. We’re here for you, you don't have to worry about anything.” Jacob said to you
That's when everything broke. You couldn’t handle it anymore tears and sobs were everywhere.
Your family all gave you a hug with love evident in it. This is when you finally knew you were safe. 
You then spoke up while drying your tears. “Can we still get KFC?” you said with a smile. Everyone just laughed and that’s when you finally knew you had a loving family and you couldn’t be anymore thankful than that. 
A/N :OMGGg I cried writing some of this ahhhh. I might make a part 2 depending if I get any ideas and if this doesn’t flop. 
Taglist for ‘You’re Not Alone’;OPEN
Permanent Taglist; OPEN
@tvckerlance​ @lozzypoz321​ @princess-evans-addict​
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sambergscott · a year ago
What are the Peralta - Santiago’s up to today?
since mac is still tiny they decide to have a lowkey thanksgiving just the 3 of them (there’s 3 of them now!!!!). he wears his my first thanksgiving onesie and pants with a turkey on the butt and spends most of the morning in his baby bjorn while mama and daddy attempt to cook without burning the entire building down. they watch the dog show together and mac is Enamoured. they squeeze in a quick facetime w nana karen and grandpa roger before he goes down for a nap bc it’s exhausting being so cute all the time!! he wakes up just in time for dinner and jake and amy have to take turns holding him while they eat, their food gets kind of cold and jake accidentally drops some mashed potatoes on mac’s head but all in all it’s pretty good for their standards!!! jake texts charles a picture of the meal and charles responds w his own - obviously it’s some weird meat that nobody but charles and genevieve would have. post-dinner is the santiago fam facetime which is Extremely Chaotic but nice... apart from camila still being kinda salty about them missing it. a close up of her precious grandbaby’s face immediately softens her though. then it’s time for snuggling on the couch watching the football and later falling asleep watching their first Proper christmas movie of the year. (obviously they watch die hard every week and die hard IS a christmas movie idc what y’all say). jake murmurs that he’s so thankful for her and mcclane and their little family and amy’s like “me too. also the dad beard” 💞
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through-fire · 6 months ago
I really really want more pining!Eddie in my life
I think that's a season five we're all hoping tomorrow's episode will lead us towards, but until then I've got you anon!!! there's 3k words of lovesick Eddie and a meddling sister below! (though not canon-compliant as this was written some time ago!) :')
They’re minutes away from sunset, and the heat is still stifling. Even the air itself lacks the energy required to muster up a relieving breeze, and all that disturbs the stillness of the backyard is the joint, hushed amazement of two boys crouched around the stem of a sunflower.
Christopher’s pride is revealing itself in the tremble of his voice where he’s recounting the tale of a lazy spring day; of seeds and spades and water, and of his dad helping him find the right spot for the flower to thrive in.
Eddie is stood some feet away, leaning back against the wall of the house where he can fuel his heart with those words and take in the scene in private – breathe it all in and revel in it. Chris’s skin is stained in hues of green and brown from where he’s dug his knees into the lawn to lean in for an even closer look; summer stamped affectionately over the reckless joints of a nine-year-old, happy boy. His laughter, mixed with Denny’s out there, sounds like music to Eddie’s ears, just like it always has.
The back door is swung wide open, and beyond it flows more sound for Eddie to tune in to. Joyful greetings as Buck lets himself into the house, probably making his way into familiar spaces and saying his hellos to everyone who’s already gathered in the air-conditioned rooms in there. Eddie has greeted all of them by the door– has let them in with warm smiles and touches of his hand to their shoulders to urge them into his home.
He remains standing in the backyard now, though. Doesn’t find it sensible to invite someone into a place which they belong so naturally in, and he doesn’t think that he can bear this particular meeting yet, anyway. The radiating joy, the homeliness of a man and the way he has to force his own hands into his pockets in order to keep them from reaching out and grabbing and holding on for dear life – they’re all things he’s not quite prepared for.
He’s more tender with affection than usual tonight – has spent too much of his day finally cracking, finally admitting things about trust and safety and infatuation out loud to a too-smug sister, and he feels raw in the aftermath of it, as though it all still lingers on the surface of him, ready to bruise in neon-lit agony upon his skin and reveal his heart to the rest of the world, too, if Buck so much as looks at him.
Buck is laughing inside, now. The sound is melodious and right where it flutters all the way outside and bounces off the warm air. Eddie breathes that in, too, closing his eyes and holding on for a moment, just the way he did with Christopher’s joy a mere moment ago, because it all matters to him.
He finds himself pressing the toes of his shoes to the ground beneath his feet just to make sure it’s still there – that the added lightness in his chest hasn’t made him soar.
The voices in the house get louder; more greetings, and the same, repeated promise in response to each of them to be right back. Eddie imagines the shuffling of feet to make way; the patter of hands patting a shoulder on its way past.
Once he finally opens his eyes again, he immediately aims them towards the back door, and finds Buck already standing there, framed like a piece of art and already looking back. He’s smiling, bright and soft and private, and just then—
The sun is dipping down against the line of the horizon; a mere touch and suddenly the entire world seems like it’s ablaze. From bright red, through orange and peach and onwards to muted, bruised purples and blues in a gradience that somehow still only seems secondary in Buck’s presence – a mere backdrop to what truly matters.
Eddie thinks, for a moment, gazing sideways and out over the fence of the backyard and beyond the roofs of the neighborhood, that he can see each of his emotions burned into that skyline. Feels the taste of ash at the back of his mouth and wonders how he’s ever supposed to say it, how to shape a wisp of smoke into a confession that the fireman-core of the other man won’t immediately put out on instinct.
He knows deep down – has always known – that it’s best to keep quiet. To continue living with it, this ember of love, and pretend that it doesn’t hurt to constantly, pointlessly try to contain it within the cage of his ribs.
Eventually he looks back over at Buck, at the golden shape of him caught in the sunset, and tries out a returning smile that doesn’t fit his own face quite right, but makes his lips feel numb. He can tell that Buck’s expression falters slightly in reaction to it; his smile losing brightness and a concerned line settling in-between furrowed eyebrows.
And Eddie hates that he did that. He averts his eyes once more, with shame burning the tops of his cheeks more than the sun does, and sighs tiredly to himself. Wills himself to be better, to keep it together. To soothe his agitated wounds of hopeless infatuation back into a more manageable state of distant throbbing again so that he can carry on as normal around Buck. The last thing he needs is his sister’s persistent desire to see him happy messing up the best friendship he’s ever had.
When Buck makes his way over to stand next to Eddie, he kindly disregards the off-kilter state that Eddie’s so obviously in, in favor of grinning sheepishly and saying, “Sorry I’m late – couldn’t really find anything to wear.”
Eddie promptly shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants. Deprives his entire being from leaning forward – from connecting and touching and self-soothing with proximity alone.
He takes in Buck’s abashed expression; the pink tinge to his cheeks that’s highlighted so beautifully by the tint of the sky, the sweep of long lashes over joyful eyes and the anxiously bitten red of a bottom lip that’s currently stretched out in a gentle smile.
And he wants to say you look good in everything. In soot-stains across the bridge of your nose, in my backyard, and in this blue shirt that’s the same color as your eyes when you’re happy. He wants to rip his hands back out of his pockets and try to press all his wonder to the line of Buck’s jaw through the medium of his own fingertips. He wants so much.
But he hears himself say, “Kind of you to pick something anyway – not to show up to my house naked.”
His voice sounds like his smile felt: numb and wrong, carrying the tone of sarcasm as an armor in order to keep true emotion from severing his vocal cords completely.
From inside his chest, his traitorous heart hisses you fucking idiot at him, as though he’s the one who locked it up in there in the first place, away from rooftop-worthy love and honesty.
It probably has a point.
Buck only laughs, though, seemingly comforted by the characteristic sarcasm and forgoing any casual response about his own, great physique in favor of gazing up at the sky. He breathes in audibly in reaction to it, taken with its beauty and entirely unaware of how envious the sun must be of his brightness.
“Hey, Eddie,” Buck says after a while, breaking the quiet moment between them with a gentle hum. He’s looking along his own shoulder and over at Eddie, his mouth briefly pursed in contemplation. “Sophia, your sister… she’s got a boyfriend, right?”
Eddie nods. “Jake. They got engaged a couple of months ago, didn’t I tell you?”
“Yeah, no, I remember that. I just…” Buck mutters. “I got a weird vibe? She looked at me as though she’d just won the lottery when I walked through the door, and I’ve never even met her before. I wasn’t prepared for that level of excitement, you know?”
Eddie instinctively closes his eyes against the lash of embarrassment that comes over him, and sighs. He can picture the scene unfolding: his sister stood inside, cradling a bottle of beer and talking to someone on his team when the front door opened up and revealed the very man that she’s seen in so many pictures on Eddie’s social media and scattered around his home. He’s sure that she’s been gleefully holding his confession from earlier at the front of her mind – that she failed catastrophically to contain her joy at the prospect of finally getting to meddle in her brother’s life as soon as Buck came into her view.
For a brief moment, he’s immensely grateful for the fact that she wasn’t able to coax Adriana with her on her spontaneous trip over here, because the only thing worse than dealing with one well-meaning sister is dealing with two of them. The relief doesn’t soothe the fear that’s growing in the pit of his stomach, though, because if she couldn’t contain her excitement when seeing Buck from a distance, he’s slightly terrified of how she’ll manage an actual conversation with Buck without slipping Eddie’s heart into a stray sentence and risk the very foundation he’s built his life out of here.
“Eddie,” Buck murmurs, pressing their shoulders together to bring Eddie back. Their upper arms are bare, allowing the connection of warm skin against warm skin, and the world really is on fire. Red and hot and smothering, especially when Buck’s expression is so concerned and so overwhelmingly kind. “You okay?”
“Fine—” Eddie presses out, before he’s blessed with the interruption of his son’s exuberant joy.
“Buck,” Chris is shouting, making his way over from the flowerbed with a wide grin on his face. “You’re here!”
“Hey, Chris!” Buck croons back, though he’s visibly caught between growing cheer and still-simmering concern when he casts his gaze back at Eddie, as though he’s unsure what to do.
Eddie’s quick to shake his head to dispel their conversation and urge Buck onwards, though, relieved not to have to make up a reason that can explain his off-beat behavior.
The responding look that Buck gives him tells Eddie that the conversation’s only put on hold for later, but Buck does at least turn around fully now. Stretches his arms out in a wide span that spells out the invitation for a hug, and is already laughing in response to Christopher’s excitement.
Eddie stands back and watches. There’s fondness on his breath and perspiration on his forehead and his chest is full and aching, though in a most pleasant way. Buck’s arms are long and still tucked protectively around Christopher’s frame, and even though Buck is facing away from him, Eddie can still picture the entranced expression upon the other man’s face where he’s taking in each word the boy is sharing within the private bubble that their bodies are creating upon that patch of grass.
“If you really don’t want him to know how you feel, you might want to dim those hearts in your eyes,” Sophia singsongs. She’s walking over to him in all her self-invited glory, confident as though this isn’t the first time she’s among this close-knit group of people, and giving Eddie a pointed look that he, in turn, pointedly ignores. “They’re blinding. Are you sure he doesn’t already know?”
Eddie bites back a sigh, rolling his eyes. “Remind me why you’re here again?”
“Because you’re my brother and I’ve missed you,” she says, to which he gives her an unimpressed look that only makes her grin wider as she comes to stand right beside him. “And watching you be a fumbling idiot around people you like has always been a great hobby of mine – I’ve missed that even more.”
“You might what to dim that,” Eddie grumbles, squinting against the sheer glee on her face. “You scared him with your shark smile.”
“Aw,” Sophia laughs, “he can’t be scared off very easily if he’s into all of that.”
She’s wiggling her fingers in front of Eddie’s face to indicate his features, kindness in her eyes to contradict her teasing tone and joy spilling out of her in the form of more laughter when he impatiently swats her hand out of his line of sight. The entire exchange reminds him so much of their shared childhood that he has to fight not to smile back at her. He doesn’t want to give her that satisfaction.
“Come on, Eddie, stop being a baby about this,” she tells him, quiet but persistent and nudging an elbow against his side. “Tell him. He obviously wants you, too – the entire package deal of you two. Who in their right mind wouldn’t?”
“Sophia,” Eddie sighs eventually, suddenly exhausted. He aims a tender gaze at her, pleading for her to understand, and to drop it once and for all. “We talked about this. It’s not like that. It can’t be. He doesn’t—”
He can’t finish that sentence, though, not again. Has already said it out loud so many times to her today; vocalized the very thought that has agonized him in silence for so long. And the fact that it’s not solely his own truth anymore – that his sister carries it too, now – only seems to have angered the pain. Made it flare up and thrum in a constant, bothersome tone in the back of his mind, and the joints of his body, and the insides of his lungs. His breath comes out trembling.
When Eddie looks out over the backyard again, Buck’s standing a mere couple of feet away, looking vulnerable under the weight of muted light and dawning realization. In the background, there’s the soundtrack of drumming feet against floorboards as Christopher and Denny make their way into the house, and Eddie has a vague sense of his sister’s presence retreating from his side, tapping into the rhythm of feet with her heels and leaving the sunset to burn the shape of the two men into the earth in peace. Despite the force of Eddie’s hammering heart, he can’t make himself look away from Buck long enough to check that she’s truly gone.
Buck’s gaze, in turn, is steady and visibly searching Eddie’s face. His brow is once again furrowed in thought as though he’s trying to piece something together, figure Eddie out.
Eventually he sighs softly. Tilts his head, with eyes that have gone soft with understanding and a mouth that is shaped into fondness even though those lips manage to deliver a rush of incredulity and sadness when Buck murmurs, “You think I don’t want you.”
He looks tender, somehow, as though the uprooting of this tiny little realization has broken up the entire system of veins in his body and shaken them out of order; left them bruised and aching to settle back in place, into a state where everything’s right and makes sense again, and Eddie doesn’t know where that is – how to get them both back there, so he takes an unsteady breath. Feels himself burn absolutely everywhere when he forces out an insufficient, smoky, “I’m sorry. I never meant for you to – just forget it.”
Buck blinks at him, eyebrows drawn even closer in genuine confusion. His left hand has reached out between them and settled around Eddie’s elbow, holding on – fighting back the flight response that hasn’t even had the time to kick in in Eddie’s body yet.
“Sorry for what,” he sputters. “Not listening to a word I just said?”
Eddie makes a noise, confused in return. He wonders, briefly, why Buck’s fingers aren’t crumbling to ash against his skin – why he feels even more alight now than he did when Buck’s firefighting hands were a safe distance away.
“You think I don’t want you?” Buck repeats, eyes still soft and shining in the now muted light of the sinking sun, though the rest of him visibly bristles with incredulity. “I’m anything but subtle, Eddie. Maddie’s been teasing me about it for actual years now. I just – I thought you knew.”
Eddie blinks at him. “You think I’ve been acting as though I’ve known?”
Buck shrugs. Averts his eyes slightly, suddenly abashed. “I figured you just decided to put our friendship first – made sure not to make it awkward for me. I was really grateful for it, for not losing you.”
Eddie swallows. He can feel himself frown, now, and has pain lining his entire body where it’s forcing each of his limbs to hold still, to not jump to hopeful conclusions until he truly knows. “You—?”
“I want you,” Buck says, “like I’ve wanted nothing else. You, Chris, us – of course I want us.”
And he’s standing there, unapologetically full of love and aiming it all at Eddie so shamelessly. His eyes are bright and earnest, and his hand on Eddie’s elbow is full of intent where it still holds on so patiently, and there’s no room left for doubt. No room left for anything but exhilaration as Eddie takes a half-step forward and tilts his head up to touch his mouth to Buck’s in a first, tentative kiss.
It’s soft. Breathtaking. Barely reaches an end of reluctant parting of bodies before it’s overlapped by Buck’s lips coming down over Eddie’s again, bearing more intent and curiosity as he curls a hand around the back of Eddie’s neck and deepens the kiss.
And Eddie, in turn, finally rips his hands out of his pockets and curls his fingers in the front of Buck’s t-shirt. Holds on, and stops holding himself back.
He devotes himself to the taste and softness of Buck’s mouth and swallows back the wounded noise of pleasure that erupts somewhere between them, content within the knowledge that Buck can handle fire – that the embers of him will be kept safe under Buck’s touch.
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saving jacob (pt. 4)
i AM rewriting new moon scene by scene to erase smeyer’s sabatoge of jacob as a character to favor edward, as well as fixing how ridiculously fast bella is to assume that jacob, who has never been anything but kind to her, is murdering people, when she knows there’s a vampire in forks who is literally trying to kill her, and you CANNOT stop me
(previous chapter)
bella wakes up screaming.
and she doesn’t know why, because this fits. it slots neatly in with jake’s cryptic half-hints, her too-sharp memories of the meadow—she finally knows. it finally makes sense.
werewolf, she whispers.
but the panic refuses to die. it’s stupid. she accepted vampires, why is she so thrown by this?
because it’s jacob. because edward was unmistakably something more than human—and jacob has never been anything but. warm and real and the only thing holding all these shattered pieces of her together—
and now she doesn’t even have that.
there’s something wrong with her, she thinks wildly, there must be. why else would she keep falling in love with these myths—they’re characters from horror movies and storybooks, and she hands over her heart nonetheless, lets them walk right out of her world with it—
she has to get to la push.
her head is a mess, swirling with thoughts that can’t connect. she’s teetering on the edge of screaming and screaming and never stopping—but she clings to that one fact, as hard as she can.
jake was here last night. for her. which must mean there’s a chance—
and then she crashes into charlie at the bottom of the stairs, and has to choke back another scream, because he’s got his gun around his waist.
charlie, puffy-eyed and reluctant, but still up before the sun, ready to lead the cops and their hunting party into the woods. because there’s another hiker missing—
and pawprints in the blood.
all bella’s plans twist into knots in her stomach.
she squeaks out something reassuring enough that charlie leaves, warily but still gone—and then she folds onto the cold floor, head between her knees, trying desperately to think. just think, bella—
it’s victoria. it has to be. jacob mentioned a guard last night—why would they bother to guard her if they were killing humans? and she saw the vampire in the woods herself, eyes bright—oh god, why didn’t she realize then that someone was dead? she saw the red, the blood—
how horrible is it, the voice in the back of her mind whispers, that you’re hoping for it to be a vampire? wishing that death on someone—you know what that’s like, the way it burns—
her wrist is freezing over again, so cold it’s like fire. she digs her nails into it, gasping, but she can’t feel it, can’t feel anything—
because that isn’t even the worst part. no, because she can’t stop picturing the pawprint—can’t be sure—
how horrible is this, the voice sneers, you don’t trust him, after everything he did for you—
she crams her fist against her mouth, trying to breathe—just breathe—
but she knows, (and she hates herself—how is she here again, what’s wrong with her), that this still isn’t the worst of it—
because it doesn’t matter, does it, if he’s killing people? you wouldn’t be able to let him go, even then—
shut up, she whispers, shutupshutupshutup—
get to la push, the voice returns, and without meaning to be, bella’s on her feet.
her stomach is still hollow, heart leaping, panic clawing at her lungs—but her hands are steady, pulling on her boots.
steady, locking the door of the house behind her. (what’s the point, what’s a locked door going to do against wolves—against her—)
steady, (oh so steady), as she jams the key into the ignition, and her truck gutters to life.
steady, as she hammers at the black’s door.
there are no lights in the windows, and every knock is far too loud in the gloomy pre-dawn—but she can’t make herself care. she needs to see jacob. needs to know. because the longer she stands still, the worse the panic gets, nad the edges of her vision are starting to fuzz—
a light flicks on behind the curtains. come in, billy calls, slightly muffled.
she feels irrationally better with the door closed behind her, between her and the dark—until billy leans around a door down the hall, obviously not in his chair yet. his eyes go wide and then utterly flat.
well. bella, good morning. you’re up early.
hey, billy, she bites out. i need to see jacob.
he’s…not in. his face is admirably still, and so wary—so like jacob’s, last night—and something in bella’s tangled insides snaps.
do you know where charlie is right now?
billy’s eyebrows tick up a notch. should i?
he’s in the woods, with the cops and half the town of forks, hunting giant wolves.
billy’s expression flickers again, and satisfaction flares through bella, vindictive and bitter.
so i’d like to talk to jacob about that. if you don’t mind.
for a moment they’re frozen, eyes locked—then billy sighs and purses his lips. i’d bet he’s still asleep. the kid’s out late a lot these days, you probably shouldn’t wake him.
sorry billy, she manages, before she’s spinning away from him, stalking down the hall to jacob’s room. god, how many times has she stood in this hallway and teased him about the mess?
she slams the door open—
and it’s jake, bare feet hanging off the end of his bed. still in the ratty clothes from last night, hair tangled half over his face, fluttering slightly with his tiny snores…
it’s jake, and something in bella’s chest settles.
all of the anxious lines are smoothed off his face, and without them he looks somehow even more exhausted—even now, so deep in sleep that he didn’t twitch at the bang of the door against the wall. he looks so unbelievably young again, and all bella’s terrified resolve vanishes.
she pulls the door closed as quietly as she can, and turns. billy’s still leaning out of his bedroom watching, and evidently biting back something—curiosity or amusement, bella can’t tell. she swallows.
i just—i think I’m gonna let him rest.
billy nods—and a sudden, wild desire hits her to ask him. to be sure that the blood, the missing hikers aren’t—that jake hasn’t—
she swallows again. she can’t. she doesn’t even want to imagine the way billy would look at her, if she accused his son of…
look, she says instead, i’ll be down at the beach for a while. when jake wakes up, could you…could you tell him that I’m waiting for him?
sure, sure, billy says, and it’s definitely curiosity in his eyes now, questions that bella doesn’t want to face. so she forces a smile, and backs out the door as quickly as she can.
(next chapter)
tagging @effervescent-hoe @edwardssparklyskin and @musingsofvenus as always, thank you for the interest, and let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged in updates!!! (also i know there’s no actual bella/jacob in this one, the next part is coming within like an hour i swear, this just got really long)
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oneweekoneband · 11 months ago
shouldn’t gay taylor swift fans be given access to the original homophobic version of "picture to burn”? and other post-evermore reflection questions.
Did yesterday last twice as long as a regular day? Does anyone else feel like pulled taffy today or is that the four red wine spritzers I made myself with Sutter Home mini bottles of cab and cherry flavored seltzer? How long has it been since Taylor Swift has been to an Olive Garden? Is the part in “willow” where she’s like “You know that my train could take you home / anywhere else is hollow” about pegging? Does Taylor Swift understand even a basic sketch of the events of The Great Gatsby, a novel commonly assigned in school to teenaged children? Is Taylor implying on “marjorie” that her grandmother is a ghost? Is it weird of me to think it is nice that Taylor believes her grandmother is a ghost? Do I believe my grandmother is a ghost? Is it weird of me to think it is nice to wonder if maybe she might be? Is “gold rush” obviously for the Kaylors, or am I just being prejudiced against men’s theoretical right to be good looking? Last night I peeled myself up from a circle at the foot of the bed and poured hot sauce into canned minestrone soup when I realized it was already hours past dark. After it warmed on the stove I ate on our cramped front porch at the little painted table that is dirty all the time from just the air, I guess, even if you wipe it down twice a day, so when I see it I think of my lungs covered in dust too. But last night it was cool outside and I wanted to get as much air inside of me as possible, dirty or not, before the time came to crack southward at the waist, fall hard, with all my weight, down to my knees, and supplicate myself most disgracefully at the feet of the Lord’s most terrible daughter. The new Taylor Swift album became available at nine pm pacific time. Will there ever be salvation?
Has Taylor Swift ever met up with high school friends in a bar over the holidays and wanted to cry a little the entire time, feeling a battle in her own body between the parts inclined to slide back into the shape of an old self to fit and the hardened parts that can’t? I don’t really think so! But with “’tis the season” she has written a song about fucking your ex while home for Christmas anyway, and it slaps. It is always a wonderful treat when this anthropomorphized Tiffany platinum tennis bracelet sits herself down and writes up a pretty little fiction about the small and ugly things that normal human people do. This is what makes “All Too Well”—a perfect piece of autofiction about her fake boyfriend Jake Gyllenhaal—so good, though if you say that in certain company the reaction is like you’ve shot a dog. When Taylor spins me some shit like this, like about parking out by the Methodist to meet up in those strange, stretchy days at the very end of December for theoretically casual sex that you’ll think about sadly on the plane when you go, I accept it like a pomegranate seed plopped on my tongue by Hades himself and I thank her. If I wanted to know who you were hanging with while I was gone, I would have asked you!!!!!!!!
Why doesn’t Taylor just call this a bunch of b sides that didn’t fit right on folklore? That’s what it is. And why deny that? They’re largely very good b sides. I love “dorothea”. Do you love “dorothea”?  Are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers???? If Taylor really is going to release a third part of this moody forest saga come March, will the government show some real leadership for once and declare a purge so that we the people might rise up and bring this despot to the justice she so richly deserves? Why is Taylor Swift the Patricia Clarkson in Sharp Objects to our sweating and shaking Amy Adams? Why do our mouths loll open helplessly to accept her poison spoon when proffered? Mama, please... Do you think, strictly within the cinematic universe of “no body, no crime (feat. Haim)”, wherein Olive Garden regular Taylor Swift avenges canonically murdered Haim sister Este by killing her husband and (my favorite bit) implicitly framing the mistress, that after all that is squared away she and alive Haim sister Danielle bang it out? Why did the lilting piano ballad, “champagne problems”, about refusing a marriage proposal from a college boyfriend make me cry this morning on my pathetic little walk around the neighborhood? Was I thinking of the night I was 22 when I said no and no and no then yes to a drunk boy asking me with flashlight eyes to give him a nonsense forever promise, which I did because I knew in the morning we’d have forgotten, or would pretend to? Is it because I know that night so well, can still feel and smell and see, though I never mentioned it to anyone, everything about the few hours in the dark where I fought sleep because it felt nice pretending I was someone I knew I couldn’t be? Or was it just because on Twitter someone made a video setting the song to clips of Sersh & Timmy frolicking together wearing the same vest in Little Women? Is “coney island (feat. The National)” the first duet between Taylor and a man that isn’t an atrocity and an attack or is that purely my Matt Berninger derangement disorder speaking? Is “coney island (feat. The National)” degrading my nervous system like a wasting disease even as we speak? Did I close my fist around something delicate???? Did I shatter you??????? Will my own horrible hand ever come out of the Arthur meme clenched fist into which it furiously curled when I first listened to the, yes, fine, extremely lovely “coney island (feat. The National)”??????? It’s been almost a full day and typing like this isn’t very efficient.
Is “cowboy like me” my dual reward for fighting with so many annoying guys in my “The Cowboy in the American Imagination” class lo those many years ago and, plus, for always believing that country Taylor would never die for good? Did Taylor Swift watch Brokeback Mountain for the first time this year? Would Taylor Swift like me to email her a pdf of the Annie Proulx story? Does Taylor Swift want to buy me the too expensive D.S. & Durga “Cowboy Grass” perfume I’ve been coveting for years? Is all cowboy content inherently queer? Just kidding—that one isn’t a question. Now that Taylor is once more in the business of recreational yeehawing shouldn’t she, as a gesture of goodwill, make the forbidden original homophobic version of “Picture to Burn” available exclusively to those gay fans who wish to have it? (i.e. the elite gay fans with a sense of history and place.) Does she not owe us that much? Isn’t that really the only respectful thing to do? Is it not the very, very least this monster could do?
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dolston17 · 9 months ago
Soft Toys and Naptimes
Summary:  Jake and Amy shopping for toys and supplies.
Notes: For @atlxsperalta This is based on the request/headcanon you gave me, Ives😄💜Part 3 of the missing scenes series. This is pretty much fluff, and nothing else🥰Also, I tried making my paragraphs as short as I could in this fic (just trying something new lol). Let me know how you feel about it if you wanna😅 You can read it on AO3 here
'Ames! This place is huge! And so cute! And so fun!'
One quick glance at her husband right next to her, and Amy falls more in love with him - simply at his excitement. A part of her still cannot believe the fact that they're pregnant. Maybe it was because they had to keep it a secret, and not tell anyone until the day before, i.e. the end of the first trimester; maybe it was because there was no prominent protrusion until recently. She couldn't say for certain, but now that they had moved into the second trimester, it all seemed to hit them so quickly.
'Why did we wait so long to come here?'
'Because we couldn't risk being seen.'
As weird as it may sound, it's true. The only reason they had put off any plan to buy baby supplies and toys was because Amy didn't want to be spotted buying said materials. What if she would be walking through one of the aisles, and they'd met a friend of theirs? What excuse would they use then?
Jake stops abruptly, as he looks at her - half confused; half amused. 'And remind me again, babe, who exactly could we have possibly encountered?'
'Off the top of my head: Terry, Charles, and Gina.'
'Again, just because three of our friends have kids, it doesn't mean they're gonna be at a toy store 24/7. Besides, what would the chances even be?'
'Better than you think, actually. Knowing how siblings can be, Cagney, Lacey, and Ava probably fight all the time, especially because Ava's four and her sisters are obviously more mature than her. So, Ava might resort to stealing something from them, which could result in the twins conspiring to steal Ava's dollhouse. Once that happens - '
'Okay, Ames, I can see that you've done some overthinking on this for the past couple months.'
'What? No! This is research; not overthinking.'
'Trust me, I know when you're researching and when you're overthinking. This is definitely overthinking.'
Amy gives him a little poke in his ribs, as if to say he got her. Every time Jake points out something about her, she just feels giddy because of how well he knows her. She's not sure why she feels that way, especially since they've already been married for two years now. Maybe it's just the fact that he's still not grown tired about the little things she does. If anything, that makes her feel extra special. She plants a kiss on his cheek to let him know, before opening her handbag and taking out a binder - Baby Toys and Supplies.
'Oh, come on, do we really need to follow the binder now?'
'Well, yeah! That's why we have one.'
'No, I mean, can't we do it after sometime? I just really want to look around all these cute tidbits!'
Oh, how the sight in front of her melts her heart! Jake pleading to get a few extra minutes to look around (and play) with the toys he can lay his hands on. The sad thing for Amy is that it's working; a part of her is already starting to cave in. And can you blame her? He's pulled out those puppy dog eyes, and it takes all of her strength to not give in. There's a binder, she tells herself, a binder that needs to be followed strictly.
'We can do some extra shopping later, I promise. But now we need to follow the binder - these are our main priorities.'
'Fine,' he concedes.
'Thank you. Now, first things first and also the most obvious choice, soft toys.'
'Soft toys, let's see... Okay, at the end of aisle 5,' Jake says as he goes through a mini-catalogue of the store they're in.
'Great, let's go.'
As they walk to the required aisle, hand in hand, Amy takes a moment to observe everything and everyone around her. A few kids run past them, giggling and laughing with toys in their hands. Other kids stick close to their parents, holding their hands - or rather fingers - tightly, almost too shy to face anyone else. It all makes her think how their little baby will be - whether they'll have Jake's energy and can play non-stop, or whether they'll want to hide behind their parents' legs, much like she used to when she was a toddler. Maybe she'll just end up carrying them in her arms whenever and wherever.
'It's amazing, isn't it?' Jake comments, bringing her out of her thoughts.
'What is?' she asks, almost surprised that he'd read her mind.
'All this... How everything just becomes a million times cuter when you make a tiny version of them.'
He's not wrong; everything around the store is just shouting cute! T-shirts, shoes, socks... They all are cuter by a mile than any piece of clothing they own. But it won't be until another six months that a tiny version of themselves will prove to be the cutest.
'Okay, here we are - the soft toys.'
The moment Jake says those words, Amy freezes. Just freezes for no apparent reason. She wants to scream. No, not because she's frustrated. Because of the sight of the massive collection of soft toys in front of her! There are so many of them, and they look so soft, and they're in all different shapes and sizes. The little girl in her wants to just lay them all on the floor and cuddle with them as she sleeps. If she's being honest, their little kiddo hasn't really been kind on her sleep cycle, so any session - even if it's just a nap - is very much appreciated. But of course her rational part says it's not appropriate, even though she knows her husband would be just as much into the idea, and she proceeds to join him in looking at the toys.
'Is there any particular type you wanted?'
'Not exactly,' Amy replies, picking up a couple of toys and inspecting them absentmindedly. 'I just think it should be something that fits our price range and we both think is appropriate for a child.'
'Ames, these are soft toys for kids. Do you really think we're gonna find something bad here?'
'Are you forgetting about that weird blobfish soft toy picture I showed you?'
Jake shudders at the reminder, truly one of the worst pictures he'd seen. David had searched up the exact term, and sent Amy the worst picture he could find. For the first time in a very long time, both Jake and Amy had been slightly afraid to go to sleep after that image burned into their brains.
'Okay, okay, you've got a point. So, um... Is this one good?'
She looks over at the plush object in his hands - a penguin wearing a read scarf. Admittedly, it is cute, designed with pleading eyes (sort of) but a tiny smile. It's capturing her heart; it should capture her baby's, too.
'That is adorable. Really is. We should buy it, and, you know, I might as well use it for my naps until the baby gets here.'
Jake drops the toy dramatically while scoffing, feigning hurt. He's just always playful, another thing Amy will never get tired of. It doesn't matter where they are, he'll just goof around like this and make her laugh.
'Amy Santiago,' he says slowly, 'How dare you try to make a new nap partner behind my back!'
Two can play at this game.
'Well, you know, babe, I love naps with you. But you're just not as soft as our little penguin friend here.'
'Alright, that's it. New criterion for picking a soft toy - it should not be a better nap partner than me.'
Arms folded, looking down on the ground, sullen pout... Yup, that's grumpy Jake for you. Of course, he's just playing around, but all he's really asking for is a kiss to 'cheer him up'. And Amy can't help but giggle as she moves closer to him, wrapping two hands behind his neck and pulling him for a soft, loving kiss. And even after they part, they smile like the dorks they are.
'Between you and me, you're my favorite nap partner - forever.'
'Well, I'm glad, because I don't wanna lose to some inanimate object.'
'Trust me,' she says as she picks up the penguin again, 'It's never even gonna be close... Oh, also, you used the word criterion correctly, so I'm gonna need you to be my partner is something more than just naps.'
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waitimcomingtoo · 2 years ago
Can you do actress reader x Tom Holland where the reader has a celebrity crush on Ryan Reynolds and fangirls over him and tom gets jealous?
Pairing: Tom Holland x actress!reader
Synopsis: your obsession with Ryan Reynolds has Tom feeling insecure
Requests are CLOSED
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“Where’s Tom?” You read one of the comments on your Instagram live as you played with the strings of Toms Punisher hoodie. “Toms at a meeting but if I timed it correctly he should be eating lunch right about now.”
For the record, you had timed it correctly. Tom was in a quiet cafe, eating the lunch you packed him with a content smile while he watched your Instagram live. Tom continued to eat his food as you answered more innocent questions.
“What are you doing now?” You read another comment.
“Probably reading.” Tom thought to himself.
“I was just reading. Reading and waiting for Tommy to come home. What’s your favorite color?” You read a commenters question.
“Pink.” Tom said out loud as he munched a baby carrot.
“Pink.” You nodded. “I’ve always loved pink. What’s your favorite animal?”
“Dog.” Tom smiled knowingly, feeling like he was acing a test.
“Dogs.” You stated with a happy smile. “Like my baby Tessa. What’s your favorite food?”
“My baby loves ice cream.” Tom said in a sing song voice. He moved back and forth in his chair, blushing at how cute you were in his hoodie. He wished he could be back at home with you, eating your favorite ice cream.
“I love ice cream. I don’t know if that counts as a food but it’s my favorite so.” You shrugged, your eyes darting up and down as you read the comments. “Who’s your favorite actor. That’s easy.”
“Tom Holland.” Tom said, keeping a mental score of all his points for answering questions correctly.
“Ryan Reynolds.” You answered. A sly smile appeared on your face. “Have you guys seen Deadpool?”
Tom sat back in surprise as you got into a discussion with your followers about Deadpool. Since when did you like Ryan Reynolds? And why was he your favorite actor when your own boyfriend was an actor? Tom felt a twinge of jealousy bubble up in his tummy. He had a weird relationship with Ryan Reynolds. They had never met, but were friendly on Instagram and Twitter. Both men liked to feed into the Spider-Man/Deadpool fantasy that fans had created online. There was the back and forth teasing of each other, Jake Gyllenhaal, and Hugh Jackman that Tom always found funny.
Until now.
Until he discovered his girlfriends love for another actor.
Tom pushed it from his mind. He convinced himself he was just being insecure over nothing. He knew you loved his acting. You probably just said Ryan was your favorite actor because saying Tom would be too obvious.
It had completely slipped his mind until a month later, when you and him were doing a couples video for Buzzfeed. It was like The Newlywed Game, despite not being married. You and Tom were tied as the interview started to dwindle down.
“What is Toms go-to activity on a day off?” The interviewer asked. You and Tom immediately got to writing on your white boards.
“Whenever you’re ready.” The interviewer said. You flipped your board around with confidence.
“I said golf.” You said, looking at Tom while you waited for him to flip his board. Toms face lit up as he held his board up to the camera.
“Golf!” He exclaimed, never failing to get excited when you got the right answer. “You got it right.” He high fived you before closing his fingers around yours and kissing your hand. “Good job, love.”
“This is too easy.” You said smugly. You knew your boyfriend too well.
“And, last question, who is Y/n’s celebrity crush?”
“Oh, duh.” Tom scoffed, gesturing to himself with a suave smirk on his face. You didn’t catch his reaction, as you were busy writing down your answer.
“Ready?” The interviewer asked.
“Yep.” Tom said confidently as he held up his board to the camera. “Me” was written on it in his messy handwriting. You peaked at his board and laughed.
“Oh.” You said, flipping your own board around. “I said Ryan Reynolds.”
Tom felt genuinely shocked at your answer, even looking at your board for confirmation.
“What?” He asked, looking between you and the board as you laughed. “I thought I was your celebrity crush.”
“You can’t be my crush if you’re my boyfriend.” You teased, not registering his reaction as serious.
“Yes I can.” Tom defended, feeling uneasy with your answer. “I didn’t even know you liked him like that.”
Him being your favorite actor was one thing. Now you had a crush on him too?
“Are you kidding? I’m crazy about him.” You said as you brushed some hair out of your face. “I thought you knew that.”
“I didn’t.” Tom said through gritted teeth. Crazy about Ryan Reynolds? You didn’t even know the guy.
“I never told you?” You asked and Tom shook his head. He would’ve remembered you confessing your love for the quick witted brunette actor. “That’s surprising. I’ve been obsessed with him for years. My love for Ryan Reynolds is one of the hallmarks of my personality.”
“Obsessed is a strong word.” Tom remarked, feeling that same twinge of jealousy rise in his tummy.
“Not strong enough.” You stated. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for that man.”
You went on to talk about your obsession with Ryan Reynolds as Tom sat, engulfed in his thoughts. This was the second time you’d chosen Ryan over Tom. He couldn’t help the pang of envy that plagued his heart. You were a lot more into the guy than Tom originally thought.
But once again, Tom pushed it from his mind. He didn’t think of it again until you, Tom, and Gwyneth Paltrow appeared on the Graham Norton show together two months later to promote Far From Home.
“Now, Gwyneth, you had a pretty interesting celebrity crush growing up, didn’t you?” Graham said as he read off his cards in his Irish accent. Both you and Tom loved being on his show, especially together. He always got the best stories out of people.
“I did. I was obsessed with Keanu Reeves when I was 15.” Gwyneth answered casually.
“I can see why, he’s a very gorgeous man.” Graham nodded in agreement. “And Y/n I hear you’re quite the Ryan Reynolds fan.”
“Oh yes.” You said immediately. You beamed at the thought of him as the audience laughed. Tom, on the other hand, couldn’t have been less amused. He put on a cheerful face for the camera, but he felt white hot anger bubbling under the surface. Was Ryan going to be brought up in every damn interview?
“Is that true? Do tell.” Graham kicked his crossed leg a little, ready for trouble.
“He’s just”, You shook your hands and balled them in fists, “he just gets me going.” You laughed. Tom rolled his eyes and crossed his legs to mask his indignation.
“Does he?” Graham grinned wickedly, wanting even more out of you.
“Yes!” You leaned back in your chair, taking in the cheerful reaction from the audience. “Can you blame me though? He’s dreamy.” Your face burned bright, like a schoolgirl with a crush, as you discussed the actor.
“He’s very dreamy.” Gwyneth added.
“Back off.” You deadpanned, before bursting into laughter. The audience laughed with you, loving your energy.
“Feisty.” Graham poked fun as he shimmered his shoulder. “Is she this possessive with you, Tom?”
“She better be.” Tom said, more serious than he intended. You were too busy fawning over Ryan to notice Toms indifference.
“I am, I am.” You assured the audience. “But I would cut a bitch for Ryan Reynolds.”
“Would you?” Graham explored. “You’d just knife someone? Right then and there?”
“Absolutely.” You quipped. The audience was loving it, Tom was hating it, and you were having a great time.
“Alright.” Tom spoke up, unable to handle his girlfriend gushing over another man anymore. “I think we get it.”
“Uh Oh. Spider-Mans angry.” Graham teased before looking back at you. “What is it about him that you like?”
“It’s everything. We’ve never met, but I can just tell from his interviews that I watch every night before bed,” You paused as the audience laughed, “that he’s just a great guy. He’s so funny, obviously, and such a talented actor but he still seems like such a genuinely sweet and humble guy. And I mean, how damn cute is he? Those brown eyes? That sexy salt and pepper beard he’s got going on? I die every time he looks at the camera. I love him. I don’t know, I just love him.”
“We can tell.” Tom huffed. So now you loved him? He went from your favorite actor, to being your celebrity crush, and now you loved him too? Toms suit felt tighter and the lights felt hotter. He wanted to get out of the interview and blow off some steam.
“Maybe we’ll see a Spider-Man and Deadpool crossover one day and Y/n can play Deadpool’s girlfriend.” Gwyneth shrugged, only fueling Toms angry fire.
“I wish.” You stated. That set Tom over the edge. He didn’t talk for the rest of the interview unless he had too.
He went to bed that night, barely muttering a goodnight to you before putting his pillow over his head and going to sleep. You were too high on adrenaline to notice his cold shoulder towards you. You went to bed that night with a smile on your face after kissing Toms cheek.
“Tom!” Tom heard your hushed whisper a few hours later. He felt himself being shaken gently. He let out a slight groan and snuggled further into his pillow.
“Tommy wake up!” You said a little louder, shaking him a little more.
“Yes, my love?” Tom said sleepily, with his eyes still closed.
“Look!” You gushed, at full volume now.
And shoved in Toms face at 7:17 in the morning was a fan drawing of Deadpool holding your most popular character in a loving embrace while Spider-Man cried. There was also a little caricature of Graham Norton cheering them on in the corner. Ryan Reynolds had posted the picture on his Instagram story with the caption “Mr. Steal Your Girl.” in bold red letters. Toms face went as red as those letters and shoved your phone out of his face.
“Y/n, it’s too early for this.” Tom grumbled, turning over in bed and pulling the blanket over his face.
“Ryan Reynolds posted a drawing of my character on his story. And she’s in his arms! That means he saw the interview!” You went on, still shaking Tom. He knew he wasn’t going back to bed anytime soon. He threw the blanket off his face and rubbed his tired eyes.
“A lot of people saw the interview.” Tom sighed as he stretched a little. “Go back to bed. Why are you even awake?”
“Because the notification I got that told me Ryan posted something woke me up.” You explained, eyes still glued to your phone.
“You have notifications on for him?” Tom asked, feelings fully awake. “Do you have them on for me?” He wondered out loud.
“I’m usually with you when you post something, silly.” You cooed, giving him a kiss good morning which he accepted graciously. He regretted overreacting last night and not kissing you goodnight. He’s gone too many hours without your touch. “Can you believe this? Ryan Reynolds knows who I am!” You exclaimed, pulling Tom out of his brief happy daze.
“Yippee.” He said sarcastically as he flopped back down onto the bed.
“I’m going to repost his story.” You said decidedly. “Should I write something witty or just put emojis?”
“I don’t care.” Tom mumbled into his pillow.
“You’re right. I’ll put something witty.” Yet again, you were too focused on the task at hand to notice Toms mood. He went back to bed without another word.
Tom woke up three hours later and lazily scrolled through his phone. You weren’t in bed anymore, no doubt too giddy to go back to sleep. Tom saw that ring around your profile picture, signaling that you had posted on your story. Tom clicked it, briefly forgetting the half asleep conversation you’d had just a few hours ago. It was a screenshot of Ryans Instagram story. Under his little “Mr. Steal your girl” comment, you’d written, “all yours, baby. Don’t tell Blake.”
“What the hell?” Tom muttered sleepily. He clicked on where you tagged Ryan and began to stalk his profile. He clicked on his Instagram story, expecting to just see the fan art from before. This time, there was a picture of you and Tom holding hands and walking in the streets of New York with Ryans face poorly photoshopped over Toms. Tom sat up in bed, fully awake. Ryan had only posted it three seconds ago. Tom heard you scream from the kitchen, no doubt meaning you’d just seen it for yourself.
Tom was not happy. That photo of you and him was one of his favorites. In the picture, he was staring at you with a dreamy smile on his face while you pointed at something in the distance. Your eyes were wide like a child and your face was lit up with glee, hence Toms dreamy smile. Tom loved that photo because it was so fitting for your relationship. You admiring the beauty of the world while Tom admired the beauty of his world.
And now freaking Ryan Reynolds slapped his smug, incredibly handsome face right over Toms.
You ran back into the bedroom, phone in hand, with another huge smile.
“Did you-“
“Yeah, I saw.” Tom cut you off. This time, you noticed his indifference.
“Is everything alright, lover?” You asked as you leaned against the doorframe.
“Everything is just peachy.” Tom grouched. He threw the blanket off his body and went into the bathroom, avoiding your confused gaze the entire way there.
After a long shower, Tom felt better. He still felt guilty for snapping at you and knew he had to make things right. He found you on the couch in the living room, half watching an episode of New Girl. Toms tea was on the counter, waiting for him, next to a plate of eggs and toast. You still made him breakfast despite his rudeness towards you all morning and last night. Tom immediately felt his guilt worsen, and he took a seat next to you on the couch.
“You got new lip balm?” Tom asked sweetly, his form of a peace offering.
“Yes.” You said through partially parted lips, never meeting his gaze as you heavily applied your lip balm. “I ran out of my old one.”
So you weren’t mad. You just seemed hurt.
“Is it coconut?” Tom leaned in a little closer, which you let him, and sniffed the air.
“Piña Colada.” You said, warning up to him a little.
“Smells nice.” Tom complimented, seeing how far he could push his luck before you yelled at him for the way he acted. He stroked your hair gently and a forgiving smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.
“Tastes nice too.” You said deviantly.
“I don’t believe you.” Tom said coyly. “I’m gonna need some concert evidence, darling.”
“I think I could help you out with that.” You said, fully forgiving him now as you leaned in.
Just as your lips were about to connect, your phone lit up and went “ding.”
“Op.” You chirped and picked up your phone. “That’s Ryan.”
Tom stayed right where he was, despite you pulling away. He couldn’t hide the irritation he felt. His face twisted in annoyance as he watched your phone screen light up your face.
“What?” He said bluntly, completely unamused. You, however, were busy commenting every compliment you could think of under Ryans post.
“Huh?” You asked, absentmindedly, as your thumbs twiddled away.
“What did you say?” Tom asked you again, restraining himself from completely flipping his lid.
“I said that’s Ryan.” You repeated. You held up your phone in front of Toms face with the biggest smile on your face. Ryan Reynolds annoyingly perfect face looked back at Tom. “He just posted a selfie.”
“And you had to stop kissing me to like his picture?” Tom asked calmly.
“See? You understand.” You patted Toms cheek before diving back into your phone. Tom watched you, more rage building up every second you didn’t look up at him. Finally, Tom had had enough.
“Y/n-“ he began.
“Oh my God.” You interrupted with wide eyes. “Look what he just posted.”
Tom didn’t look down at first. He stared right at you, intense anger behind his usually gentle eyes.
“Are you serious?” He asked you.
“Yes!” You stated, misreading his question. “Look!”
Tom grabbed your phone and looked at what you so desperately had to show him. It was a picture of Ryan, of course, with his big arms wrapped around a cardboard cutout of you. Ryan was leaning in to kiss your cheek. A shirt that said “I love Y/n L/n” in big, bulky black letters was peaking out from behind the cutout. The caption said, “I won’t tell Blake if you don’t tell Tom.” Then he tagged you, along with a million hearts and kissy faces. Tom would’ve found the picture funny on any other day. But now, your love for Ryan Reynolds was impacting his relationship with you and he hated it.
He hated how genuinely excited you were just from him posting a picture.
He hated how Ryan was brought up in every single interviewer, and how you turned into a fangirling mess when he was.
Most of all, he hated feeling like you loved another man more than you loved your own boyfriend.
“Y/n!” Tom yelled, slamming his fist down on the couch. You jumped at his sudden outburst and put your phone down, giving him your full attention. Toms eyes immediately softened. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but it was the only way to get through to you.
“Yes?” You asked, confused with his tone of voice.
“I was trying to kiss you and you pulled away to look at some dudes Instagram.” Tom burst out. His tone was assertive, but not mean.
“It’s not some dude.” You dished his words back at him. “It’s Ryan Reynolds, love of my life.”
“I’m the love of your life!” He shouted. You looked at him in surprise.
“What’s gotten into you?” You asked, finally putting it together. Every time Ryan came up, Tom got quiet and weird. “Are you seriously jealous of Ryan Reynolds?”
“Am I jealous of the incredibly handsome that you’re head over heels for?” Tom repeated in exasperation. “Yes, Y/n, I am.”
“Why?” You asked incredulously, not even believing you were having this conversation.
“Because!” Tom exploded. “He’s all you talk about. Like, he’s your favorite actor and not me? He’s your celebrity crush and not me?” Tom listed off, finally getting his feelings off his chest. “And every time he gets brought up in an interview, you get all giggly and blushy. You even told Graham Norton you wished you could play his girlfriend. How am I supposed to feel about that? I’m your boyfriend and you’re so open about being in love with another man that-”
“Tommy, I’m not actually in love with him.” You interrupted. You said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, giggling at your hotheaded boyfriend in the meantime.
“You-You’re not?” Tom stuttered, stunned at your response. He had been expecting you to yell back. He hadn’t expected you to meet his anger with giggles and reassurance.
“No.” You laughed, rubbing Toms heated face with your thumb. “Yes, I love him. He’s funny and cute and a great actor. But I’m not actually in love with him. I’m only in love with you.”
“Then why are you so obsessed with him?” Tom asked, his voice softening.
“Tommy, when I say those things about Ryan, I mean other than you. He’s my celebrity crush, other than you. He’s my favorite actor, other than you. And saying I’m in love with him is just a figure of speech. But when I say I’m in love with you,” you poked his chest as a smile threatened to break out on his face, “I mean it. 100%. I love you. Only you. Not Ryan Reynolds. Not Wade Wilson. Not Chris Brander. Not Will Hayes. Just you.”
“But, sometimes, I can’t help but feel like you like him more than me.” Tom said timidly as he kissed your palm that was resting on his cheek. He was genuinely insecure about your feelings for him, something you hadn’t noticed until now.
“Tom, there is no one in this world I like more than you.” You told him. He gave you a soft smile.
“Are you sure?” He asked, still needing reassurance.
“I’m positive.” You promised him.
“What if he asked you out?” Tom tested.
“I’d tell him I’m kinda seeing someone.” You shrugged, making Tom feel better with every word.
“You’d turn down Ryan Reynolds for me?” He asked in disbelief.
“Without question.” You confirmed, taking his face in your hands. “You are absolutely the one I want. I’m sorry if I made you feel insecure.”
“It’s okay.” Tom told you. “I overreacted. I should’ve trusted you and our relationship.” He felt silly for getting all worked up over something as silly as you liking another actor. He never should’ve doubted you.
“I do have an idea of how we can respond to Ryans post, though.” You grinned mischievously.
“We?” Tom asked with a hopeful smirk.
A few minutes later, Ryan Reynolds got a notification that you tagged him in a photo. He went to his Instagram and clicked on your profile. A rare photo of you and Tom kissing with the caption “Tom knows.” was on your page in response to his “don’t tell Tom” comment from earlier. Ryan laughed to himself and went to comment.
@vancityreynolds: “But I thought I was Mr. steal your girl.” He wrote under your post. Tom was quick to respond.
@tomholland2013: “yeah, but she’s Mrs. Holland.”
“There.” You smiled and put your phone down. “It’s settled.”
A million rumors were already flying around that you and Tom were engaged. Toms comment did nothing to help that fact.
“Finally.” Tom breathed a sigh of relief and tossed his phone onto the other couch. “Can I get that kiss now?”
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@maybemona @sunrise-shawn
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disco-funk-and-soul09 · 10 months ago
Drawing, Singing and 1AM Ramen
Word Count: 2.6k
Notes: So sorry for not updating, I’ve recently had a lot of life and school stuff that kinda snuck up on me. Anyway, so sorry for the wait. I appreciate and love all of you who read this💜
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Chapter 7
Heeseung POV
Finally, Friday! I thought as I woke up that morning unusually filled with energy. Normally, I hate getting up in the morning with a burning passion to the point where I once threw my phone across the room after my alarm went off. But today was finally the day where I could see Y/N again. Seeing her again had been lurking in the back of my mind all week as I went through the routine of dance practices and rehearsals with the rest of the group, along with trying to write more lyrics for one of the songs I was writing. 
The lyrics were due in about two weeks so that we could record it but nothing seemed to be inspiring me, and despite how happy I was that I was going to see Y/N later today, I knew the task would loom over me like storm clouds.
I sleepily walked into the kitchen to see Jay and Jake at the stove making toast and scrambled eggs for us. Normally we have to rush out the door super fast to get ready to go to work, but on Friday’s our manager let us come in a little later which gave us time to have a nicer breakfast than our usual toast and cereal. 
“Hey ya!” I exclaimed cheerfully, both members whipping around to look at me, confusion in their eyes.
“Your very chipper this morning.” Jake commented happily. 
“I bet he’s just  excited to see a special someone tonight.” Jay added mischievously. 
I felt my face heat up but they weren’t wrong.
“You excited?” Jake asked eagerly, looking at me attentively, his arms resting on the kitchen island, holding his chin as he looked up at me with a puppy like innocence. 
“Yeah, but I’m a little nervous too,” I admitted sheepishly, nervously rubbing the back of my neck. “This is really the first ever date-not-date I’ve been on.”
“Don’t think of it like a date.” Jay said. “Think of it more like hanging out. Don’t put a label on it, it’ll just make you more nervous.”
“He’s right.” Jake chimed in.
“Noted.” I muttered. Okay, so this was more of just hanging out. I could do that, just talk and chill. That was all. 
“Umm….do you, unmm…. guys think you could help me with something?” I said softly.
“What’s up?” They asked in unison.
“Do you think you could help me pick out what to wear?” 
Jay quickly turned around and gave me a wide eye look of surprise. 
“I CAN SERIOUSLY PICK OUT YOUR CLOTHES?!” Jay asked excitedly, and I could tell it was taking all of his will power not to jump up and down from excitement. Jay was really good at styling clothes and knew a lot about fashion. Even if I was just hanging out with Y/N I still wanted to look okay at least.
“I mean only if you want.” I replied, trying to hold in my laugh at his excitement.
“Of course I want to!” He exclaimed. “Oh! Well have Sunoo do your makeup too!” 
“Aww that’s a good idea.” Chimed in Jake 
“Are you sure about-” I started, but was cut off. I loved Sunoo and he was really good at doing hair and makeup to the point where him and Jay made their own stylist team. But I didn’t think I wanted to wear makeup, conferring we were just hanging out. The clothes were a little different but makeup was always a whole other thing. 
“SUNOO!” Jay yelled across the house. “COME HERE!” The patter of feet came running through the hall and in came a messy haired, half asleep Sunoo. 
“What could you possibly need me for-” he asked groggily, clearly having just woken up.
“Do you wanna do Heeseung Hyung’s makeup and hair for when he goes to Y/N’s tonight?” Jay asked eagerly. 
Sunoo immediately perked up at the concept of doing my makeup and hair, and his eyes immediately lit up.
“Oh my gosh yes! Are you going for a more natural look or do you want a little something with a bit more pizzazz? And for your hair-ugh your hair so much to do! Do you want it straight? Or I can curl it a little-”
“Sunoo,” I cut him off. I loved him but I knew how carried away about this stuff he could get. “I don’t know if I even want to wear makeup. I might go bare faced, like when I first met her.” I admitted. 
I normally didn’t wear makeup when I had days off and that just happened to be the day I met Y/N. I liked makeup but I felt more at ease not only knowing she likes being my friend for who I am as Lee Heeseung (for now Yang Heeseung, but that was a problem for a future me). But also knowing that she likes my natural face (I noticed when her eyes widened a little when I first took off my mask). 
“Are you sure?” Sunoo asked who seemed a little sad. “I can’t even interest you in a bit of foundation and light eyeshadow?” He looked at me with big puppy eyes, that begged for me to say yes. It hurt my heart a little that I was gonna say no.
“I’m sorry Sunoo, but for now, no makeup,” I said and I saw his face fall.
“But you can do my hair.” I added in quickly. “You can do whatever you want with it. Within reason.” I added in that last part quickly, and his face lit up again. 
“I’ll go get my curling iron.” And with that he ran outta the room. 
“I think I know exactly what you're wearing too.” Jay added and headed towards our room after Sunoo.
“What about me?” Said a small voice from behind me. I turned around to see Jake looking at me patiently.
“You said you had a job for me and Jay? I want to help.” 
“Ohh right, I almost forgot. I need you to help me pick out a dessert.” 
“I have no idea what this is for, but yes!” Jake replied happily, and I told him what I had in mind.
“I WANNABE ME ME ME! I DON'T WANNABE SOMEBODY JUST WANNABE ME BE ME! JUST WANNABE ME ME ME!” I sang as loudly as I could while painting, rocking out to Itzy’s Wannabe. Despite the fact that I was in Korea, I didn’t listen to a lot of Kpop. I mostly learned about Korea from Mina and she was the one who inspired me to go. But despite that, I still listened to the occasional kpop bop. I had to admit the group I loved the most was Itzy, mostly  because they sang about self confidence and really not caring about what other people thought (a skill I had to improve but nonetheless). 
As I blasted the music I could feel that I was slowly losing myself to the music, shaking my hips and arms to dance wildly to the catchy beat. The paintbrush in my hand sprayed paint onto the canvas of what I was working on, along with the floor and parts of the wall as well. But I didn’t really care. It looked more interesting that way anyway. More playful and carefree. A little bit like the photographer who sent me the picture to begin with. 
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I woke up this morning ecstatic that I was gonna get to see Heeseung. It was a little hard to believe that we met not only by accident but just a few days ago. We had been snapping and texting each other nonstop, it seemed like we never ran out of things to say to each other, just time. He typically had to leave first.
I had found out over our texting sessions (mostly at night when he wasn’t busy) that he was a musician who wanted to write his own music, which I thought was really cool. I couldn’t sing for the life of me, and was impressed by anyone who could. He always had to leave to practice, or write lyrics which I understood. As someone in the arts it took a lot out of you, no matter how much you loved it. 
I mean the reason I did art was to forget and express my worries, and no matter how much I loved doing it I sacrificed a lot of my time and energy to create something that reflected me. I wasn’t complaining at all, but I think that most people think it was easy to be in the arts businesses when in actuality, I think it’s one of the hardest to be in. 
“I should get cleaned up.” I muttered to myself, looking down at my paint splattered crop top and sweatpants, both splattered with an assortment of blues, purples, blacks and yellows. 
I had no clue what to wear, and what kind of look I should go for. Obviously paint covered sweats wouldn’t do it. I didn’t feel like wearing a skirt, I felt like that would be a bit too much, I mean we were just hanging out nothing more. Maybe jeans and a sweater would do the trick? Simple yet casual. Ugh! I wish Mina was here. I thought helplessly. She would’ve known what to do. Mina was the most fashionable person I knew. She even helped me pick out my homecoming dress. 
“I dunno what we’re even gonna do. Gotta figure that out.” I said to myself. What would he even want to do? Maybe he would like to go to a norabong? He was a singer, maybe we could just mess around, because goodness knows I couldn’t sing if my life depended on it. 
“One step at a time Y/N.” I whispered and before I cleaned up decided to put the last finishing touches on my painting. 
Doing something with my hands helped relieve all the built up anxiety and stress I had. I hated planning things and despite how it went pretty well to decide a day and time of when we would meet I still hated the idea of doing something and fearing he wouldn’t like it. That was what concerned me. 
“Just don’t think for now.” I told myself, then blasted Itzy’s Dalla Dalla and continued working. Looking back on this day, the only regret I have was turning the ringer on my phone off. I should have known. 
Heeseung POV
“Ummm, is it supposed to stick to the pan like that?” Looking at Jake and Niki, completely clueless as I carefully tried to unstick the bungeoppang off Niki’s pan. We had just finished up from practice and the minute I got home Jake and I rushed into the kitchen to try and make fish bread. Y/N had only been in Korea for a few days still and I figured a classic Korean dessert is bungeoppang. Girls like sweets, right? My limited knowledge of if Y/N would even like these was just further proof of my ignorance. 
“Yeah, no they’re not supposed to look like that.” Niki said, taking the spatula from me and trying to get the dessert off the dish. I knew Jake was a good baker, and figured he could help me make these. My mom said that whenever you go over someone else’s house to always bring something, even if it’s flowers. But that felt a little too much like a date thing so I figured desserts would be okay. 
It was Jake’s idea to ask Niki for help, to which he obliged, but only if he could have one. I didn’t have another person who knew how to make fish bread better than Niki so I said yes. 
“I don’t think you added enough oil.” Niki said, and finally wrenched the pastry off the pan. The top half of it was perfect. Its scales were a golden brown color, perfectly even. The other side was torn up a little burnt on the tail.
“Shit.” I muttered looking at it. “This doesn’t look great.”
“It’s fine.” Jake said. “It matters how it tastes, not how it looks. And besides it’s the thought that counts.” Jake said, his voice was incredibly reassuring. 
“You positive?” I asked hesitantly. I didn’t want to fuck this up.
“Positive. Now go get ready, Jay and Sunoo are ready to get you ready.” Jake smiled and pushed me out of the kitchen to the makeup/hair/closet room we have. 
“But-but what about the bungeoppang?” I asked. 
“Don’t worry we got it covered.” Jake insisted and with one final push I was in our makeup room.
“Ready?” Asked Sunoo, who was looking at me with a big smile and curling iron in hand. 
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I said with a sigh and sat down.
I didn’t hear my phone go off as I painted the evening away. If I had, I would have known Heeseung was going to be a little early. If I had known, I wouldn’t have ended up in the situation I was now.
Heeseung: Hey I know it’s a little earlier then we said but I’m headed over to your place. I’ll be over at about 5:45
Heeseung: Also I have a surprise for you😊
Heeseung: Hey I’m at the door
The doorbell rang.
Heeseung POV
Not gonna lie Jay and Sunoo had done a pretty good job of styling me. I looked casual yet still ‘fancy’ enough where it looked like I put in effort into my appearance. Which I did. 
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I think the look was pretty worthy of date-not-date. Although when Jay first picked out my outfit Sunoo was livid for putting hat on me when he had done my hair. I swear to god a civil war almost broke out had it not been for Niki who told Sunoo that it was no big deal. Niki was one of the only people Sunoo would listen to when he got upset and it was adorable. Although, it was not adorable when Sunoo was mad so I was thankful for Niki. 
When I got to Y/N’s apartment I heard Itzy music blaring on the other side of the door. What could she be doing in there? I thought and I could feel my heart beat a little faster in my chest. I was really doing this. It would be fine. I clutched the container of bungeoppang a little tighter.
You got this Heeseung, I thought to myself. Jay’s words floated into my mind. This is not a date. It was okay. I took a deep breath then knocked on the door.
If I was being honest, I felt bad about being a little early, but I had practice tomorrow and couldn’t really stay out that late. I hated lying to her about what I did, (or at least I didn’t really lie to her completely. I was a singer. Of course that doesn't justify it but still. It could have been worse).  
“Come in.” She yelled over the music, and I hesitantly turned the door knob to walk in on Y/N dancing to Itzy music, covered in paint and a big smile on her face. Her back was to me and I let out a little laugh, but that hat was my first mistake. That snapped her out of it.
She whipped around and when she saw me, froze like a deer in headlights. 
“You're early.” She let out. “your early.” She repeated. “Oh shit you're early.” I think that was the point where she realized what was happening because after that she face palmed herself.
I couldn’t think of anything else to say. What do you say when you basically walk in on a cute girl dancing and just vibing? She was shaking her hips and moving her arms with a big smile on her face which I had to admit was very attractive. It was nice to see her being so care free. 
“Ummm….” I started awkwardly. “You dance good.” 
Off to a great start Heeseung. 
Taglist: @moonchildsmoon @summysunshine @chaeyins10 @trashyemonerd​ @uwu-cutegukk​ @leeima99 @lazy-serim @jakeysim @futuristiccroissantzonkplaid @wondewdrop @hooniesiceprincess @multistan060719 @makeout-seession
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buck-nialled · a year ago
Two Million Minutes (6) - N. Horan
NOTE: to the anon who wanted an update on the ring, this part is for you! to @cxld-play , i hope you aren’t dead yet and are able to read this. and to all the people who have given support to my writing/this series thus far, i thank you but also secretly hope i grind your gears with this chapter. the climax is coming soon babyyyy so yall better be hype! <3
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While Niall was determined for answers to his suddenly racing heart and quivering stomach whenever Veronica smiled at him, or touched him, or was even in the same room, he kept quiet. He needed confirmation first, something to assure him that a side effect of amnesia-related concussions was not insanity. But his body was so goddamn irresponsible when it came to keeping things quiet. His hands would fidget whenever he would find the courage to speak to her at an average volume. There were points he would nearly trip on his feet when he would catch a glimpse of her in a tee-shirt that seemed like it would fit Niall’s build more comfortably while she stood cooking, or eating, or talking.
His knees suffered undeniable wobbles he knew were not caused by his past injuries. The root problem was her voice. The way each syllable that left her heart-shaped lips in a perfect pitch, at a perfect cadence, in just the right volume; it gave Niall the same feelings he had listening to his first solo album upon its completion: giddy, lovestruck, in awe. Veronica, of course, feigned cluelessness at the tells she recognized from the beginning of their friendship. He spoke the same way when he asked her out for the first time. His thumbs danced similar to that of their first date. Seeing him act this way gave her feelings likewise to his own, and also hope. A feeling she was yearning for like a drop of rain in a desert.
Now it was all a waiting game. Veronica had no clue when Niall would be ready, or how thin his patience would whittle down to be. But she knew she would wait another two million minutes just to have him back. Unfortunately, it only took days of premiditated planning for Niall and Jake to enter a Skype call together to catch up. 
“What’s up, man? How are ya feeling?” Jake smiles at his friend from the other side of the screen. From his friend’s end, Jake glanced downward to the engagement ring sparkling on his desk. Niall chose well, and Jake knew it would look dashing on Veronica’s finger. But the image of him locking arms with her, adorned in a lacy white number was a ravishing one to envision. Jake did feel a pinch of guilt hanging on the back of his tongue since swiping the ring, like a dry pill impossible of swallowing. It was washed away immediately, however, when Niall grinned back impossibly wide. A small part of him hoped that a heated tension would build between the two of them, leaving one to explode.
“Great, really good.” Niall’s head bobbed up and down as he began explaining the memories which have been popping up these last few days. They all pertained to his music and their shows, leaving Jake curious if Veronica was remembered at all. His impatience grew quickly once minutes passed of Niall spewing away how his fingers kept remembering random songs from his two solo albums that his mind seemed to struggle with, and his newfound appreciation for muscle memory.
“How’s Vee?”
Niall’s puzzled expression was easily readable from across the screen. The man blinked a few times to process Jake’s sudden interest and use of the nickname Niall was told he had ownership of. The man decided not to question it though, rather choosing to shrug it off and answer.
“Fine. A little bumpy at the beginning but…we’re okay now.” Niall was satisfied with his answer. Jake, however, was determined to press further. Leaning closer to the screen, the man furrows his brows.
“Bumpy how?”
Niall’s mouth opens and closes continuously for a few seconds. There was no easier way to put it. “I was kind of a dickhead when she was trying to help me remember some stuff. Like tour, the band…”
“The band?” Jake repeated.
“Not you guys. Harry, Liam, the whole lot.” Niall waves off. “She showed me a picture from our last night together and I just…got a little emotional looking back, I guess.” Niall lifts his shoulders in a shrug. Jake felt the familiar sting of jealousy burning deep in him.
“Oh, so she didn’t show you any photos of us on tour together. Of me, or Lou…” He tosses various names out, letting his hands go out of frame to latch onto the sides of his desk.
“Well, we kinda stopped looking after that. But a couple of days later I’d realized what a prick I’d been, and we agreed to go at my own pace.” Jake nods.
“I see…so you two made up then?”
“Yeah…” His friend’s voice trails, piquing Jake’s interest further.
“Or did you not?”
“No, we did. But…can-can I ask you something?” Jake’s hands tightened their grip as he nodded to encourage Niall to continue.
“You would know better than me, but were…were Veronica and I ever together before…”
“Before the accident?” Jake’s eyebrows raise. “Yeah…” Time to initiate Plan B, he thought.
“Really?” Niall sounds elated, but his hopes would not be high for long.
“You broke up before the accident, too,” Jake informs, taking a casual sip of the beer beside him. He hopes for Niall not to notice his red knuckles as they re-enter the frame.
“Oh, did she not tell you that?” Jake asks, before scoffing at his question. “Well, obviously she couldn’t have if she never told you that you were together in the first place.” He shakes his head, while Niall stares away at his keyboard.
“You alright, man?”
“Yeah, 'm fine. S’just…I kept having this feeling that we were something more, y’know? Like all these images kept flashing in my mind of us cuddling, holdin’ hands…all the couple stuff. You’d think some negative points would be in there, too…” Niall sighs, placing his chin on his hand.
“Well, to be honest, you two never fought that often, from what you told me at least.” Jake shrugs, sipping his dark drink. That part was the truth, something Niall could not use against him because the couple never felt any anger or resentment toward each other. If anything, they drew each other away from it with a single glance. That was something Jake always craved to have with his exes, but alas, none of them were as strikingly beautiful or graceful as Veronica. None of them had her kind eyes or smile that would earn double-takes everywhere she went. More importantly, he never had somebody who could dissolve tension with a single stare. He needed that release, he needed her wrapped around his finger like he was for, and he was going to ensure of it. Niall looks up from his ‘V’ key to send his friend a confused stare.
“Then…what happened?”
“You both just decided you were better off friends. You both wanted other people…” Niall found this answer an enigma, considering what Veronica had revealed about both of their relationship statuses that night at his mother’s house.
“And…did we? Did we see other people?”
“You did…she was a little heartbroken after so I don’t really know if she ever found somebody but—”
“So she’s still in love with me?”
“Woah.” Jake set his glass down with a chuckle. “Slow down, Nialler.” The man thinks he hears a slight growl behind Jake’s tone as he says this.
“We never even got to that?” A devilish cocktail of sadness and guilt intoxicated Niall’s heart like no ninth pint of Guinness could. Not only did his ex-girlfriend’s so-called broken heart insinuate that he initiated their split, but the fact that they never even worked out long enough to profess the most pungent human emotion there is to exist did not sit well with Niall in the slightest.
“How are we still living together?” He was asking more himself than Jake, shaking his head in his hands. His friend, however, finds it necessary he be left with a logical answer.
“Well, you both still felt strongly about one another. And you were living together at the time neither of you wanted to kick each other out. So the only logical thing was to…”
“Move to the guest room.” He remembers buying a set for it with her, how they laughed while strolling the aisles, and joking the idea of a drunk friend being desperate for it in the nights to follow. He thinks about his dresser drawers, one side still left vacant. He may have put on a show to convince Veronica, or maybe more so himself he was over it. But with the things he had not done to take her out of the picture, from all the empty spaces he had not filled with someone new. Hell, the fact that he was still single had Niall internally questioning himself: is he really over her?
“How long ago did we uh…”
“Break up? About…” Jake cranes his neck up as if he was performing calculations on his ceiling. “Gosh…it’s been about eight months now, I’d say.” Niall hums.
“And she hasn’t moved on at all?” Niall glances up, eyes swimming with sorrow. Jake pretends he simply does not notice and rolls his head from side to side.
“Well…” Jake begins, making Niall’s body go stiff. “No, I shouldn’t—”
“Tell me,” Niall demands. He raises his hands in surrender, before repositioning his seating.
“Okay, well…I never told you this. But whenever you and Vee were dating,” Niall’s body twitches at the name. The name only he called her, supposedly, “and you’d bring her around us. She always seemed invested in something else. Like her eyes were elsewhere…”
“On me.” Jake bites his lip and turns his head down to scratch the back of his scalp. “I always sensed it but didn’t want to come in between you two. And then one night after a show, she just…she just threw herself on me, I don’t know. Shit, mate please don’t be upset with me. I pushed her off before she could try anything.” Niall muttered something that Jake’s ears could not catch. After asking him to repeat himself, Niall’s words were loud and clear.
“That bitch.” Niall guffaws, in total disbelief for the woman he had grown infatuated for all over again. “To say she was afraid to lose me. That I’d throw her out and glimpse her over?!” He exclaims, voice livid. Niall leaps from his chair, lining his floor with hot prints as he paces back and forth. Jake fails to hide the smirk turning the corner of his lips up but is not too worried considering Niall is occupied with his burning thoughts. His phone chimes, leaving him to peek down and have his smirk grow larger.
Can we meet up after I get off work? I need your opinion on something.
His eyes flick back up to a furious Niall, who was combing his fingers through his obstructed locks in a frantic manner while simultaneously whispering strings of curses. Jake focuses back on his phone and is typing a reply instantly. He had a much bigger priority to attend to now.
Of course, it’s a date
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Cold (White Demon’s Love Song, Part 1.)
Series description: A new job was what the reason you found yourself on a lonely roadtrip on the western coast, ending up in the woods of Olympian Peninsula. Yet a sudden car malfuction was what cause your unplanned stay in Forks. To your surprise, there was a lot of sinister things going on under the veil of fog. 
Part summary: On your way to Port Angeles, your car just suddenly gave up, dying just in front of the Forks welcome sign. Well... It was time to call the local mechanic.
A/N: The series’ name is obviously a call-back to Twilight Saga: New Moon soundrack, A White Demon Love Song (by the Killers), used in the ending credits. Honestly, the song is amazing and you should give it a listen, or two, because it reminds me of Jacob so much.  
Word count: 4.5 K
Twilight playlist: ✨ Twilight Crackheads ✨
Series masterlist: H E R E
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Dedicated to the best hooman being I know, my dearest, @missdictatorme​
It was nothing but a small town, located close to the western coast, standing in the middle of nothing but deep, dark woods. Its population never crossed the milestone of 4.000 people at one time - neither it had a chance to do so. The town was located in northern America, in the state of Washington. Its name was Forks - close to Forks, there was a native-American territory named the Quileute reservation, La Push being its tiny, beating heart; a slightly bigger town named Port Angeles, and one big city - Olympia.
The forests and nature of the Olympian Peninsula was one of the most mysterious and beautiful to ever be experienced by a human being. There were mountain lions and bears, wolves, and bigger, more dangerous animals hiding in the deep, all-year-long green woods. For such a small town, Forks had its fair share of unnatural, mythical, and legendary creatures roaming around/in it. The deepest nightmares of horror and fairytales coming true, if you will. It also seemed that the town just can't leave the cycle of repeating events, one man in the woods thought.
It wasn't just a man, no, that wouldn't be accurate to say. It was a man with a literal animal inside his body. An animal about which he hoped will never come on the surface once again. All he wanted was to grow old without complications, that was his whole deal. Now that he was left alone, behind and Cullens, the residing vampire family, had left the town, he and his brothers had a chance to do so... Finally. Five years ago, he and Sam Uley, the leader of another pack, watched the Cullens leave the city for another... Hundred years or so. It appeared it's the time to stop with the whole wolf thing, letting them let the wolves inside of them die.
Being a werewolf, a child of the moon, a wolf, or a shapeshifter, whatever you wanted to call it, wasn't as brutal as it was described in horror stories over the years. More than anything, the men and women of the Quileute tribe were carrying the spirit animal inside - the animal was waiting inside, sleeping, until it was called to rise once more. Not everyone could become a wolf - only the ancestors of the first big chief, Taha Aki, could do so. There also needed specific things to happen for their transformation, whether it was the first one or another beginning of the cycle. They needed to smell the scent of vampires.
No-one could predict a pack of vampires taking refuge just a small bit from Forks, again. Yet this time, it wasn't the 'good' vampires feeding on animal blood; these were wild, unpredictable, and red-eyed. These could not be debated to reach any sort of agreement or truce, as the Cullens did a century ago. These had to be stopped, killed, and burned. Whether they would be acting nice or not, they were a threat to Forks and everyone living in it. Which the spirits realized - they started to re-awaken once more.
First, it caught most of the pack unprepared - both alphas of the Uley and Black pack started to feel the sensation of intense heat, of rage and fury all of a sudden. For Jacob Black, it happened when he was in his workshop, repairing an old engine. He barely had the strength to walk out of the building. His muscles were tensing uncontrollably, a high fever appeared all of a sudden. Just muttered groans of pain and heavy breathing could be heard as Jacob walked past the first line of high trees, waiting for the feeling to rip him apart like a rag doll. This shouldn't be happening. There were no vampires in Forks anymore, why was the wolf urging to come out?
The man fell on both his knees. In despair, his fingers dug deep into the forest soil as he let himself cry out in pain. No-one could see him or hear him now, it was fine. The spasms made him fall on his back as his pupils were wildly rolling. If any Catholic priest would see him, he could easily claim that Jacob was possessed by a demon. Another groan left Jacob's body, which was still writhing in convulsions until the part came - the one where his human form just exploded, a hoard of russet fur sprang out as the wolf tried to get on his feet. The man was highly confused. Why did this happen? He wasn't left in the dark for too long - soon, he heard the familiar voice of Sam Uley, who was just a few years older than him, inside his head.
Sure, both of them decided to separate some time ago, creating two packs in Forks, but they could still communicate telepathically - as two alphas, the leaders of the pack. - 'Is that you, Jacob?' - Sam screamed into the void, being scared beyond his wildest dreams. It was understandable - back in the day, Sam was the first to awaken his spirit wolf when the Cullens moved back to Forks. Naturally, he was alone and didn't get what was happening to him that much - until the elders told him. This time, it might've been the same thing, again. Naturally, Sam was relieved when he felt another mind connect into the web of shared thoughts, even if it was just Jacob. - 'Did it just happen to you too? Are you the only one as well?' - Sam asked with anxiety. - 'Yes. I can't hear Seth or Embry or Quil. You?' - Jake informed about his current situation. - 'I can't hear anyone either. Do you know what's happening?' - Yet this time, Jacob was silent.
He didn't know what was going on. The only thing he knew was that he has to protect his territory by all costs - and that something is going on around Forks.
A few days later, road 101:
"You are now tuning into Radio Forks on 140.5 FM. The weather is nice today, but remember to be careful on the roads anyway. On a request from our listener, we will now play The Violet Hour by Sea Wolf... Take it away." - A woman in the radio said, her voice mashing up into happy guitar rhythms in the end. The song was nice and fast, so it made you dance in the seat of your Beetle while you gripped on the steering wheel. The car was most probably at least twice as old as you were, it wasn't in the best condition and the stereo was also kind of shit, and the AC worked only when you pulled out the lighter out, but it was still your car in the end. Well, you couldn't afford anything better from a teacher payment anyway - the Beetle never gave up on you, it had never malfunctioned and even if it did eat a lot of fuel, you still loved the car.
Now, you were on your way to Tacoma because of the work you've been given there - starting in a few weeks, you've already had moved most of your stuff into the new apartment which you shared with a roommate. It was exciting, starting another stage of your life in Tacoma. Sure, your mom was a bit scared when you told her how far you were moving out, but you promised to call and text her all the time, so she would be calm.
But before your final settling down in Tacoma, your friends advised you to take a short trip along the western coast - especially the upper part of it. So you did as they told you - you were now close to some small town named Forks, which you wanted to just drive through quickly, before continuing to Port Angeles. These towns were small and hadn't much to offer, but according to your friend, it was magical to stay there, even just for a while. So far, you hadn't stopped in many towns, but you had to say that you liked the weather - hot, sunny days? You were starting to question them after spending a week on the road. The higher you got in Washington, the more cloudy and rainy it got. More importantly, it was freezing in this part of the world. What was the sun? You didn't know. You hadn't seen it since you entered the deep, green, and rainy woods of the state. The roads were always slipping from the rain, so you had to focus on the damn road at all times.
There was deer here and there on the road, but even if the view was mostly the same, you liked it. The air was cold and humid even though, in the nights and sometimes even during the day, it got very cold up here. You've chosen to move to Tacoma, didnt you? This was what you should be prepared for.
Quickly, you glanced over the map to see if you're still on the right road when your eyes widened in horror. The motor just made a damn weird sound. Oh no. Oh crap! You cried out internally as you felt the car slowing down. All you did was to ride to the roadside with panic as the car made a few very unpleasant sounds before the engine stopped completely. The Forks sign was mocking you from the distance, telling you that you were just a small while from the city. So much for just passing through, huh? Without too much waiting, you tried to call the local post office, the only number you had on your phone and to your surprise, the woman knew a number on the local mechanic. Why wouldn't she? According to the number on the board, this town was damn small.
Or, maybe, a lot of people called her and asked her for a towtruck.  
More so, she switched you over to the workshop just moments after. You've been sitting in the car, already having your winter jacket pulled on since it was getting cold in there rapidly, watching the damn sign just mocking you silently. You were in the temptation to stick your tongue out, but it was just a dumb sign. - "Jacob Black on the phone, what can I do for you?"
First off, the voice, regarding the polite question, sounded almost fed up and annoyed - and you haven't spoken out yet. Someone had a bad day. Second of all - the man sounded quite young. Did the post-office-lady switch you to a bad number? - "Hello? Is someone out there?" - The Jacob mechanic asked again. The tone, again, was unpleasing to listen to. But this time, you gathered yourself to answer. - "Yea, yea. Hi, I got your number? They told me you're the Forks mechanic with a towtruck? Is that right?" - You quickly got out of yourself. While you were talking, you got out of the car and walked around the car in circles, trying to warm yourself up. Which was borderline foolishness when it was drizzling outside, but whatever. - "Where you're stuck? What happened?" - The man said without a hint of caring about the topic.
"My car just... Stopped suddenly." - You described. After a quiet sigh, you could almost hear the Jacob man rolling his eyes. - "I'm just a few yards from the Forks welcome sign. Can you help me or should I call someone else?" - Wow, you got straight to the point. Damn, you didn't need some fed up, annoyed mechanic. He could at least pretend to care. It wouldn't have killed him. - "Listen, miss. The nearest towtruck, except me, is in Port Angeles. If you don't wanna pay ridiculous prices for the service, it will be wise to hire me, okay? It's one mile... So I'll be asking for five bucks just to get your car to my garage, with the services and everything counted in. Is that alright?"
Again, even if the question was meant to be polite since you were his potential customer, it was said in such a manner that couldn't be described other than rude. Jacob was straightway rude with you. Also, five dollars for a mile were a bit overpriced. You could be glad that the mechanic of such backwater didn't ask for ten bucks... Let alone how much would the Port Angeles mechanic want? You had some money with you, but it wasn't much either. And for now, you had to save until you'd get to know what's wrong with your car. - "Okay. How long until you'll be here?" - You asked, now you were fed up as well. That made two of you annoyed, great conversation. - "In about... Half an hour. See you there." - And the phone line went dead. With empty gaze, you were staring into the woods with both your eyebrows raised as you listened to the long, beeping sound.
Half an hour? Did he want to let you freeze out there, in the woods, lost on the road 101? And for the love of God, you couldn't wait for the moment you'll talk with the man from eye to eye. That will be an unpleasant conversation, you could tell already. Quickly, you ran back to your car. For some time, you tried to get at least the almost non-existent heating system on, but the car was dead. It didn't even start. You were sure that you'll freeze to death before the towtruck comes to save you. And you almost did - by the time you've seen an old, big Chevy truck with a hook on its back, your mouth were already feeling your teeth-gnashing being fully set. You were hugging yourself inside the car, there was mist slowly coming out of your lips. Well, this was bad.
The man jumped out of the towtruck, watching your car in horror. How old was this thing? Sixty years? Well, it was certainly older than its owner, who was sitting inside. It could be told you weren't used to such cold, because you were looking as if you were about to die any minute. With your eyebrows knitted, you watched the man approaching your window. The first thing that punched you in the eyes was the fact he was wearing just a plain, short-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of old jeans. The man also had long hair pulled into a man bun and damn, these eyes could start shoot bolts of lightning at any time.
He also was... Huge. You'd swear you hadn't seen a man who would take as much space as him. This man was at least six feet tall... And a lot of inches more. As he approached you, you suddenly felt the need to scold him down about politeness fading away. As he knocked onto the window, you rolled it down with a super awkward smile, feeling every inch of you being scared by the man. As soon as you rolled the window down, the man leaned both his palms into the door - with a glance, you figured out he would be able to just break the door if he'd want to, and leaned closer to you.
"You were the one that called?" - The man asked, annoyed once more. So, this was Jacob Black himself - the local mechanic in all his glory. A freaky dude, in your opinion. - "Yep. 't was me." - You peeped out while trying to keep the smile on. Jacob straightened up and sighed, looking away from you for a moment. The way you were smiling, as if you weren't feeling physically well, was giving him the creeps too, don't you worry about it. - "Get out, I'll help this bad boy up." - Jacob patted your car's top. For a moment, you were afraid that the car might break down to pieces as the cartoon cars did - the trunk would fall, the tires would roll away and you would be sitting there on the seat with the steering wheel in your palms. That, thank God, didn't happen.
As the man worked on pulling your car up so you could drag it to the workshop, you could ask him a ton of questions - why was he naked in the middle of such weather? Was being pissy his all-around mood? How was he doing? Yet out of respect, you were just standing there with the same terrifying smile and watching him doing all the job. If you weren't standing there and if you weren't watching him without moving, he'd have so much easier job. Jacob would just take the car, drag it to the hook and click to place - but solely because of your stare, he had to pretend he was struggling with the task a bit. Yet even though he was pretending to struggle, he was done in a few minutes. - "Well, get into the trunk. We don't want you to get... Cold." - Jacob spoke out to you carefully, trying to lower the level of annoyance in his voice.
It was just a simple misunderstanding - while Jacob was worried that the weather around here, to which you quite obviously weren't accommodated to, had done something to the muscles in your face, you were just worried that the man might do something to you if you say something wrong. That was the whole problem. You couldn't know that Jacob wouldn't ever hurt anyone and he couldn't know you're just afraid of big boys. With a nod, you walked to the cabin of the old Chevy truck. It was pretty old, but taken care of  - the black paint wasn't that old, it was still shiny in the drops of rain.
The way to the workshop was as quiet as hell - and uncomfortable the same. Jake didn't know what he did wrong and how to start a conversation with you. Honestly, you were just glad that the cabin of his truck was nicely warm. The color got back into your face in no time. And seemingly, the worried smile had disappeared as well. The way was quick - sooner than you'd say, Jacob already had the car inside his workshop. - "So, here's what I'm going to do. I'll check your car, see what's wrong and what can I do for you. You wanna a coffee, tea, or a cup of hot chocolate in the meantime? There are some magazines in the waiting room too, if you're interested." - The man looked at you while he cleaned his palms in the rug. - "The chocolate sounds nice if you don't mind." - "That's a buck worth of excess fare." - He mumbled to you, but walked to his office, getting the coffee machine ready. You almost wanted to tell him something back - yet just at that moment, the man turned his head at you.
His palm quickly pulled a strand of his black hair behind his eyes while his brown, warm eyes gave you a look. - "I was joking. It's counted into the services." - Jacob explained quickly. Oh. You nodded. It didn't sound like a joke, but who were you to judge that. Were all the people in Forks like this? If they were, well, this was sure a great place to live at. Just after he put the small cup on the table in the waiting room, he made sure the heating is on in there. After that, he disappeared into the workplace. All you could hear was some quiet music and rattling of tools as Jacob got into work.
All you did was that you sat there like a small kid, sipping on the warm treat. It was making you feel a bit better. Suddenly, the man almost kicked the door, standing in there with a horrified expression. - "How old is the car?" - Jacob asked simply, rubbing his palms into the rug again. Something in his eyes told you he's being freaked out by what he had seemed. - "I don't know. I bought it six years ago from my neighbor who was forbidden to drive because she couldn't see anymore." - You answered immediately, standing up to look the man in his eyes. - "I don't know how did it drive for so long. This is a wreck." - The mechanic informed you and turned on his heels, marching back to the shop. When you didn't get his hint and didn't follow, he turned his head at you and rose his eyebrow. You were there in no time at all.
"I don't even know where to start. The AC is busted, the hoses in the engine are clogged by various stuff, your alternator... Wow, I'm wondering that it's one piece..." - He was pointing his fingers around, talking about the breaks, some small parts, and various other stuff. - "Um, Mr. Black, I don't understand what you're trying to say, so... Can you get to the point? What is wrong and how much will it cost to repair the car?" - The expression you had on your face told Jacob that you, indeed, were confused as hell. He knew women, Rosalie Hale and such, who were into cars massively, so he would never say that cars were just a 'guy thing' - yet there were people who just weren't gifted in this sort of thing. - "Uh, I think it might be better to just buy some new car," - Jacob started, but your face told him you weren't thinking about leaving the beloved Beetle behind. - "Or, I can try to figure out what to do, yeah." - Suddenly, he walked to his small desk and started to work with his calculator, writing things down on a list. Then, he showed you how much you were about to pay - and the sum made you sit on the chair he had there. With a long sigh, you leaned your elbows to your knees, trying to keep it together.
700 dollars with his work counted in. That was quite something - somehow, you were positive that Jacob Black gave you a pity-discount as well. Sure, you had something saved - but you needed to eat something in Tacoma and 700 bucks wouldn't be healthy for your dying bank account. As a university student, you had multiple loans and stuff, you also had to pay the rent... And certainly, you didn't have spare 15.000 bucks to buy a new car. And you needed one. With a shaky sigh, you put your head to your palms and tried to keep it together. - "It will take me at least two weeks to get all the parts I need and then... Listen, I didn't know the car's this bad either." - Suddenly, you realized that the man is standing next to you, smoothing your shoulder. He could understand people in bad financial situations - he hadn't much himself, though it was significantly better than when he was younger.
He wanted to help you somehow, but the parts were simply too expansive against his liking. Especially for something like the Beetle in front of him. This bad boy needed to take care of everything - and Jacob, sure of his experience with old cars, knew he can repair it... Somehow. - "Is there a motel somewhere out here? Do you know the prices?" - You asked silently. Dear God, were you crying? What should he do? A crying woman, when did he encounter a situation tricky as this one the last time? His brain circuits almost burned up when he thought about what should he do with you. And suddenly... The small bulb was there. - "Um, are you a murderer or something like that?" - Jacob mumbled, trying to joke - and to his surprise, you joked back. - "I won't be killing anyone for you to repair my car with a discount." - This made him chuckle.
"That's good to know. I'll present you an idea, okay? Since I'm now sure you're not so mentally okay..." - "What did you say?" - Suddenly, you sprang up, making Jacob grin even more as he walked around the room. - "Nothing. All I'm saying is... The motel could get expansive for a long-term stay and I have one spare room above the shop. It's used for visitors mostly, so nothing you'd have to worry about. I'll ask ten bucks for a week and it would be kinda fine if you'd buy some food sometimes... And if you'd like to, you can help me out here - and in exchange for that, I'll give you a discount. I think I can lower the sum to 500, maybe 450 if I'll be lucky. I have to make something outta this, you know?" - The man leaned his ass into the car standing behind him, smiling at you carefully. Okay, this sure as hell was an act of pettiness, you could tell just by the look he gave you. But, honestly, he didn't seem to be that bad now.
Also, this was genuinely nice of him. When you imagined how much you'd pay for the motel, the car, and your food altogether, just for the two-week stay, your eyes rolled on their own. - "Why are you doing this?" - You asked quietly. You appreciated the help, you did, but it was strange. Maybe, if everyone was like the mechanic Jacob Black in Forks, the town wasn't half bad. - "Listen, I'm not some dude who would be into a kidnapping or other weird stuff... I just know how it's like not to have much money. You're young, driving this piece of crap, what do you work as, might I ask?" - "A teacher. I'll be starting in Tacoma this September." - Jacob didn't answer to your answer, he just rose his eyebrows to get his point across. - "Take it or leave it. That's all I'm saying." - "You also did miss the fact that I don't know cars at all." - There you were again, the joking-around girl he had seen just a few moments before. - "I also didn't say you'd get near my cars, God protects you if you'd try to do so. I have... Uh... Some problems with the administration if you wouldn't mind. Paperwork isn't my thing and picking up calls isn't my stick either." - "I've noticed."
For a moment, you've been looking at the dude in dead silence. Well, it was a risky plan - but you weren't in the position to do much more. Jacob gave you the best possible alternative you could hope for, it was just because he, under all the annoyance, could maybe be a pretty reasonable guy. - "I'll take your offer, only if I can tell the chief of local police that I'm staying in this workshop." - Jacob snorted at your condition, but he needed to say it was fair enough. - "Sure. So... Is that a deal?" - The man offered you a palm and you stood up, shaking it. - "It is a deal, Mr. Black. Name's Y/N, by the way. You probably should know that."
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strawbeariefaerie · a year ago
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔰𝔞𝔡𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰
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𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 ❦  deep into the midst of your summertime sadness, you feel hopeless being in the middle of your families issues. hoping to be the ribbon to tie your family together you realize its much more broken then you predicted to solve. what seems to be the clearing comes from an unlikely friend who brings the cure to your summertime sadness.
𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ❦  jake wyler × twitchy witchy[black//woc]!reader
𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 ❦  angst with some steamy fluff
𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 ❦  10.7K
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 ❦  18+ nsfw cursing, witchcraft: sacrifice mention + satanic ritual, biblical reference (just one, chill), cherry cola overdose (not really), death of a goldfish, alcohol mention: drinking, steamy scenes (no smut) 𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔱𝔰 ❦  summertime sadness
by lana del ray. | but not tonight by scott weiland. | season of the witch by lana del ray.
𝔴. 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢 ❦  hello before you’re reading I have a very important message so please take it into consideration: IM STILL EDITING THIS SO PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK BUT DO NOT REBLOG RN
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  twinkling stars shine bright for the blue teary eyed girl in the broken dollhouse on St. Capulet Street. throe distress can be sensed from miles away, such melancholy incense bathing the dainty summer night air results in the cicadas hissing and owl hooting sorrowfully. 
   the flowers frown and sulk as the fireflies flicker in despair for the weeping girl. an anvil chorus above makes a forlorn melody for the bitter blue damsel, who but only continues to weep and carp. found sprawled on her bed, head crowded with unhappy thoughts and heart shaking and throbbing.
  lets take a closer look at our damsel in distress shall we? 
  empty cherry Coca Cola cans slather all over the pink rug of her bedroom floor. a circle of small tin wrapped black and crimson candles surround the pink four poster bed- the deep musky scent of burnt sage fills the air. the remains of ripped red felted velvet of a shredded dress that adorns a mannequin in the middle of the room. 
   following the lonely hollow aluminum, burning hot wax melts onto the floor as its flames flicker as strong winds rush in and out. the unfinished clothing piece canvases the mannequin, standing tall and still and waiting to be finished.
like and unlike the poignant seventeen year old that tears into her blanket, with only the breathing company of the green eyed Burmese feline— she is not standing tall and she surely wishes to be finished with.
   the harsh voices of her parents' previous fight echoes inside her head. the slamming of doors and shattering of dinner plates and the crashing of the flipped dining table engraved in her mind. 
   it was supposed to be a nice calming recollecting dinner where her parents set aside their differences and personal issues to meet ends for the sake of their one and only daughter. eating her mother's lasagna and drinking her freshly squeezed strawberry lemonade while her parents sip their wine and chat about each other's day like they used to do— before the news about the whole affairs happened
   although the quiet happiness cannot always prevail for one comment led to another which led to her parents screaming at each other throwing plates, and verbal assaults at one another.
maybe if her father didn’t cheat with her mother and her mother didn’t have to be involved with that business scandal, then she wouldn’t have called her older brother Frankie from university. crying to him about all that's happen the past week, even though her mother made her swore she would not tell him.
   every family had their fights, tosses and turns, ups and downs but the mentioning of divorce her mother announced and claimed as she slammed the door behind with a suitcase in her hands. you sat stricken, knowing you’re part of those families.
  the picture perfect family who look good in all their family photos, wearing their iron pressed Sunday best on their green front lawn of their three story house. where they’re all smiling for the camera yet if you were to look closely, you would see the rage and sorrow and lies that coat their teary eyes and forced straight toothed smiles. 
   the american dream family
   what happens behind closed doors is a different story that we all share and comprehend in some ways. your father, the president of the School Board was caught in an affair with his assistant who was your mother's trusted friend. the next day of your mother finding out about the affair your father was fired from his job. 
   the event covered the daily town papers and it’s impossible for your own father to show his face in public without a cameraman and reporter shoving questions in his face. your mother, who's lucrative company was at the brink of bankruptcy thought that unethical business practices would help cover up the failing enterprise. 
   the scheme did not cover the papers but was on the news as your mother was surrounded by press whilst being interviewed at court. not to mention that her alcohol addiction has only worsened since the publicly announced affair as well as the broadcasted agenda it brought on top of that.
thankfully she wasn’t sentenced to anything but your family as well as the other people involved in the scheme had an enormous debt to pay. such stress is building up putting pressure on your mothers shoulders that you didn’t expect her way of coping was with snow under her nose in the hot ice cream melting month of July. 
   as for your brother, the sweet golden boy everyone adores and takes as their own son. the quarterback who led St. Johns to victory years ago, that also earned a scholarship to Stanford got his girlfriend of five years pregnant when he just entered his second year of college. she’s due in about three months and your parents obviously don’t suspect a thing about it. Frankie begged you not to tell anyone this matter over the phone when you asked him why he couldn’t make it home for Christmas months ago. 
   your family was not perfect at all
   y/n claws the pink sequined flip phone in her palm, she just got off the phone with her mother saying that she’s going to spend a few days at your grandmothers— again. 
   hearing the breaking in her voice when she told you that she was sorry she couldn’t be the mother you want her to be right now. but like the optimist that you are; you say that you’ll be fine on your own with your father and try to cheer your mother up instead.
   you don’t wish to remember your experience when you went to school that week, the stares and whispers behind you back.  
   it was hard not to cry your eyes out in the school bathrooms and it was difficult not to snap at anyone for even mentioning it around you. you just acted like it never happened while walking down the halls with your friends with your head up. you won’t let anyone catch you slipping on sticky puddles of tears and you surely didn’t want anyone to think you had the ability to cry cause lets face it.  
   in the eyes of every student in St. Johns you were incapable of crying because no one had the courage to make you cry.
   you’re y/n Lovecraft, a bitch— not that you mind, and a witch— well, some say but don’t live long enough to expose the truth.
   no one wants to cross you and you want it to stay that way.
   although you had to admit that you did want to say something was upsetting you whenever your teachers would call you after every class and ask you if you were alright. they always explained that some parents get divorced and it's normal, yet with this you shut it out— you don't like change cause you simply didn’t accept it
   you don’t want to accept this new reality to be your new normal. you don’t want to accept that your father was still seeing the women he cheated with your mother on. and you certainly you don’t want to accept that your whole life is going to shift dramatically after the divorce.
   so you decided with every breath in your body that you were going to find a way to get them together again. no matter the hate and rage they have for each other— there had to be some fragment of love and enrichment they bear for each other that could still be sparked. and whether they liked it or not you were going to be the person to ignite it. 
   yet to bring two people who seem to hate each others existence together was going to be much more harder than you admitted— both sense, logic and magic together weren’t cutting it.
   for the past weeks of trying every method of therapy and every lie you told and every spell you cast, you’ve come to no progress. it’s been two weeks and four days since you’ve shown your face out in public. you’re pretty certain you’re going to go on for another week cause no way were you going to school, shop and socialize with anybody till you got your parents back together and brush this whole affair away.
   so with that you understood this matter was out of your own hands— in rather logic and sense ways. 
   you admitted to needing help and unfortunately it wasn’t to your teachers or schools counselor that you took this issue but straight to the dark book that’s been in your grasp for a solid month. 
   the side effects of your most latest and most successful communion left you shaken but still very much grateful in many ways. you were scared for your dearest pets life but you were desperate, the poor thing only had about three months to live which just added onto the heartbreaking situations in your life.
placing your trust in the spell book, you took to its assistance on that desperate night a week ago and read the rituals spell on the thin yellow pages and proceeded with it— flashbacks to that full moon night awake in your mind. 
   where you set poor old Lilith down on her velvet cushion, scratching her ears once more and whispering sweetly to her before you began to chant the incantation. heart pounded as you spoke the first sentence of the oracle, you remember how the candle lit room spiraled and how the cold winds howled and screeched but the candles did not die. 
   even when you were hovering in thin air and as was everything else present in the room. the quaking of your loud chanting and the violent scene of spiraling books, papers and objects did not stir Lilith. only when the very last words of the spell were spoken you felt a sudden pressure to your chest and all the breath in your lungs turn to fire. 
    with that only seconds later did the strong hurling winds kill the flames of the candles and everything floating and thrashing in the air of your bedroom drop down to gravity. including yourself as you took a gasped breath of fresh air. 
   the after effects were not clear but you didn’t think much of it as you lit a match in the darkness to see Lilith was gone, her plush cushion empty. fearful it was to late you immediately ran over the rubble of cluttered and broken things on the floor to switch the lights on. 
   as you turned your back to your room your eyes widened to find that the huge mess of papers, books, furniture and everything thrown, broken, and ransacked back and restored in its usual places. 
   the breath in your chest died as you found Lilith lying down on your bed curled comfortably, alive. body not much of a skeleton anymore and a bounce of youth in her step as she came to life to greet her slit emerald eyes to yours. 
   you didn’t make much of it, the spell simply was to help your eighteen year old cat live and push her lifespan just a bit longer. however as you stood there in the baggy striped sweater you haven’t changed out of in days you noticed the dark glimmer in her slit eyes and the movements she made weren’t the familiar innocent Lilith you raised when she was just a kitten. 
   so the shock when it wasn’t you breaking the silence, but Lilith. 
   you couldn’t breathe right then and there, her ability to talk took all the air out of your lungs. pupils dilated and the hairs on the back of your neck standing like needles. the astonishment did not help when you found out that it wasn’t Lilith at all, but a demon who possessed her. explaining to you that Lilith's spirit passed on but her fleshed body was tied to the demon, you fainted when you found out what dark aura possessed your dear cat. 
  the Queen of Hell, the fucking Queen of Hell possessed your poor cat. 
   sure it was shits and giggles when you were in mist hysteria when you correlated that you named your cat Lilith and Lilith the notorious demon. Adams first wife and eventually Lucifer’s wife- you still weren’t buying it as you broke down into oblivious laughter. your crazed giggles were not at all welcomed to Lilith as she stared as if offended, you didn’t care cause obviously at that moment you thought you really had cracked. 
   spending all your time in that dark book, barely eating and drinking anything and not sleeping might have literally broke you. cracked your sanity that you could possibly think your probably dead cat was possessed by Lilith. you’d open your eyes once again to see that your ritual was nothing but a dream yet you closed your eyes and opened them again. your room was spotless and Lilith was still there squinting her eyes on you, asking you what was wrong with you. 
  now however, your hands go through her soft midnight fur, curling besides you on the other side of the pillow. soft eyes wander to the black chestnut wardrobe in the corner of your room, it reflects in the blind violet rays of moonlight. 
   the pressure you felt that night of reminiscing returns and you shift your eyes away. only one thing questionably bad happened that night, besides your pet being possessed by the Queen of Hell. it was when you touched the old leather book did it almost burn your hands, as if it was hot molten iron. 
   Lilith told you not to think much of it, saying you probably wore the magic a bit to hard but its radiating energy always seems to grab your attention. thinking you hit the gold pot, having the Queen of Hell to help restore your parents marriage. 
   what could go wrong? 
   well how wrong you were when every attempt you two made with the help of the book and with Lilith's knowledge was just a failure blowing in your faces. it was today that Lilith said after the failed ritual that it was impossible for your parents to come together again and you’re trying hard not to believe it, you’re trying your hardest to deny.
   her purring stops as she jumps up “someone’s here,” she hisses and you quirk a brow to her confused but hear the sudden crunching of tree branches and grunts outside.
   "are you summoning something in here without me?" a deep gasping voice followed by a few tired grunts breaks your summertime sadness. 
   you turn your body immediately to your rose and ivy covered balcony, glass doors are wide open and a figure shows itself. the moonlight illuminating his face, squinting your eyes to see the figures face clearly and you roll your eyes in annoyance.
   hoping for Frankie or maybe for your fairy godmother (if you had one) of all people in a situation like this but no. 
   it's Jake fucking Wyler, one of your close childhood friends and experimental dummy for dark sorcery practices (on some occasions) you haven’t seen him in weeks. 
  reaching for your glasses to get a better look of him you notice leaves and flower petals cling onto his jacket. a branch like piece of shrubbery in his black hair. “yeah, Lucifer. don’t worry you missed the bad part when absolutely nothing happened,” you sigh in disappointment, your chest rising and falling slowly as you exhale a tired sigh.
   “that’s the best part. when nothing happens,” he says stepping into your room shaking them off.
   the necromancy incantations written in red chalk illustrate the creaky floorboards. one of the first thing that catches his eye besides Lilith's piercing green split eyes seeping into his aqua hues. the numerous elements of ‘sacrifices’ within each triangle of the Devil's star.    stones, candles, powders, herbs and… was that your pet goldfish Goldberg floating upside down in the wine goblet? 
   widen pupils grace the speechless statute on Jakes face, glancing away to your direction not wanting to know, he's greeted with the shar stare of your half lid eyes.
"don't you get tired climbing up here? i'm on the third story.” rubbing your temple with one hand, feeling the headache from crying your eyes that you tried to relieve with sleep coming back.
  "nope, but I get tired of your broken promises.” he states while popping the p. cautiously stepping around the side of your bed to not step in any other cluttered mess or dark magic stitched shrine gone wrong.
it's dark in your room and nobody without night vision could see within an arm reach from them, even with the candles burning didn't help the senior from seeing anything. the mix of dark and pink furniture, long melting candles and your angry pout was something straight out of Bram Stroker’s Dracula and he couldn't tell if he liked it or not. 
  “shame on you for bring that up, i'm suffering if you couldn't tell. leave a girl be and take a hint,” you snap, the lightness in your words clearly masked with annoyance, he rolls his own eyes.
  a few steps inside the room he turns on the pink lamp, its blush roseate luminosity is enough to light up your room completely, despite the numerous candles burning throughout. shutting your eyes at the sudden brightness, stuffing your face back into your teary wet pillow. 
     “Jake, with no no offense intended- why the hell are you even here? it's-” you grumble opening your phone to see the time, “ten thirteen," the snappiness in your voice is so foreign to him yet he would admit that he did miss the sound of your voice.
    "you called me? you were supposed to come over to my house and help me study for a few things. but just like always you canceled and told me to come over by yours,” the tone in his voice unbothered as he walks around, avoiding Lilith’s sharp stare feeling icy shivers creeping up his spine.
    “so you didn't really think the front door would be a more dramatic entrance?” you say, annoyed how he always has to make something theatrical about everything, even when he couldn't help it.
    “haven’t you gotten used to the first ten times i’ve done it? and you know your dad hates me-” you really aren’t in the mood for this and you find Lilith isn’t either as she jumps off the bed to sit in the coral shell swivel chair at the opposite side of the room.
a smirk crosses your lips as you catch her rolling her eyes, you know Lilith isn’t really fond of Jake, especially from their first and only encounter was merely him accidentally stepping on her tail.
   “what do you want Jake?” not meaning for your remark to come out that rude but the raging headache that’s closing in, you really aren’t in the mood to be kind to anyone.
   “why are you snapping at me? we aren’t studying for you to be this pissed at me. why did you call me in the first place?”
  “I-I didn’t mean to call, I was-” massaging your pounding temple trying to calm it down.
   “yeah you were high on cherry cola while being possessed by Satan. great, now I'm going to fail my SATs because of the twitchy witchy y/n Lovecraft," he says as he roams your room, ignoring your sluggish state.
    "Jesus, the whole fucking twelve pack," shoving the empty cardboard Coca Cola case aside with his foot.  
    “why are you acting so surprised? do you not knw me?” a string of mellowed burps following after your spilled words.
     "i’ve known you since we were ten and as a good friend with excellent memory-” that smart ass remark leaves you throwing a frilly pink pillow at him which he just catches easily placing it underneath his arm- “I know you're an absolute slut for cherry flavored shit. not surprised, just disappointed," factually mocking in that state of the matter tone he has as he gestures to the cherry coke cans and candy wrappers on your floor.
    "shut up, you’re not helping-" though you stop yourself as a large burp erupts from your mouth. the pain in your stomach stops though you cringe at yourself when Jake erupts in loud laughter ceasing as he raises his brows at you.
    "wow how am I both impressed and disgusted at the same time,"  he smiles hovering his head over yours. the appropriate closeness is misunderstood by Lilith as she loudly hisses, teeth glaring causing Jake to lean back but not before hitting the pillow in your face. 
   “Lilith seems to be doing well,” Jake sighs, clearly annoyed. he knew over your most recent phone calls -which haven't been really recent if he were to think about it- that Lilith was reaching the end of her lifespan, hence her not getting well. although he’s puzzled standing in your room to find the feline looking young and healthy- and more aggressive towards him then usual. 
   “aww, don’t say that Jakey she loves you,” you snicker and Jake rolls his eyes at the pestering nickname. glaring straight towards Lilith resting in the corner, you must have done something to her.
no way could Lilith still be alive and no way can he feel like an ordinary cat is reading his thoughts. if he didn’t know any better he thought he imagined the cat rolling its eyes back but just tells himself it’s the burning sage getting to him.
   stepping away to somewhat investigate what you’ve been doing for the past weeks, for you haven’t been at school for weeks. tonight when you called him there wasn't a fiber in him that didn't want to come over by yours when you called him.
swinging his book bag off his shoulder he drops it onto your sewing table looking back to your somewhat conscious body. “you know y/n, everybody thinks you’re dead since you’re not in school anymore,” Jake peaks, taking out and placing the textbooks one by one near your cluttered sewing machine.
red shades of fabric scraps, measuring tape, and fitting sketches are pushed to the side by his arm. “that’s not a bad thing, everyone there hates me,” you mellow picking at the cracked black polish of your nails. 
“that’s for damn sure,” Lilith whispers and you snap your eyes to her, silently telling her to shut up. looking to Jake seeing his same posture, you're thankful that he didn’t hear her comment but you’re doubtfully wrong. right now he's looking at the mirror across your room that captures you, reminding himself how he didn’t just hear his friends cat talk. 
  so instead of focusing on that, Jake observes the piles of psychological analysis books that tower on the floor. Ranging from paper and hard covers; topics and titles of divorce, marital therapy, and relationship experts printed on the spines. Flaming candles sticks burn around the book towers, that’s totally not a safety issue. Looking down constantly to watch his step to not knock the book towers or candles into each other he looks to you.     “Trust me they still do, but it not like they don’t miss you. I mean you are a bitch, a witch bitch but you are the bitch. Like not Priscilla bitch but the witch bitch,” that leaves you giggling, at least they were kind and scared enough to give you a title of some sort.      “How fitting, hope no one took my place,” you murmur and he smiles at the sarcasm.       “Well actually, some girl thought it was a good idea for her to but it didn’t work out.” he says roaming his eyes to find them locked with Lilith’s who’s been staring at him this whole time. the fuck is up with this damn cat?       “What happened?” you say invested, lifting your glance from your black chipped nails to him which he shoots his eyes to yours.      “It just didn’t feel right for her to. I don’t know how to explain it but everyone hates you but everyone misses your presence at the same time.”          This statement was true and hard to admit for the students at St. Johns. All have been secretly hoping you walk through the doors, hear your clever teasing remarks as you open your pink locker like any other normal school day. Just a week without you at school has turned St. Johns upside down, it’s turning everything inside out.          they all have been wondering if you put a curse to them and the school...        “How unfortunate,” bringing your attention back to your nails, no cracked polish sticks to them and you roll over to retrieve the bottle of cherry polish from your side table. If you were being honest, you did miss school and those pathetic excuses for classmates but you didn’t hate them enough to curse them, yet. 
      Finished prepping the school work on your desk, Jake grabs your unfinished can from your sewing table. Chugging the remaining cherry cola he crushes the can within his fist. Turning his attention towards you he understood why you called him, even when you didn’t know why.        The pillow your head lays on is wet and the vast pink and white striped wrappers of strawberry bon bons and cans of cherry soda around your bed is a clear sign that you’ve taken to your sugar stash in your sad hour. Looking down at the sweets in the white bag in his hands that he last minute bought you maybe wasn’t exactly a good idea for a cheering up gift. He knows that you always crash and burn after you turn to sugar to solve your issues but in the end of these episodes he’s always their to be the shoulder you cry on while holding the tissue box.        This time it’s different, he doesn’t even know why you're upset. In most cases school and social relations never got the best over you but how was he supposed to diagnose this problem. Barely seeing you at school now or at all, you seem to avoid everyone and when he does catch up you don’t acknowledge him so he figured to just give you what you needed, space. Yet that alone is a far catch for Jake, even when he’s shit at throwing and catching he at least knows that he should leave you alone but at this point your wasting away. All he needs is to cheer you up, get you to talk about what’s bothering you and get you motivated to go back to school. Then you were back to your old self and he can finally get his friend back.     “Hey, {y/n/n} look at this,” he says sporting the football physique he starts running around your room dodging pretend shoves and pushes. This makes Lilith roll her eyes as he playfully spins around “The last thirty seconds are closing in, will Jake Wyler make it-and!-” the can within his grasp slams into your trash can.
    “TOUCHDOWN!” he roars as he silently cheers to himself in such an exaggerated manner, wanting you to at least smile at his attempting gesture to cheer you up.         Yet your blank stare as you paint your nails makes him huff, still keeping that goofy smirk on his face he shrugs it off. Growing up together you’ve always been a tough crowd to please but he still tries to make an attempt to make you smile everyday. Your eyes turn to Lilith who’s split eyes mischievously spark and you see the curve of her lips lift up.         Walking towards your bed a slight gasp escapes Jake's lips as he slips on a lonely can that ‘suddenly’ appeared on the floor, making you gasp yourself dropping the nail polish onto the floor. Eyes widen as you see him stumbling backwards while he tries to catch his balance but can’t help when his back hits the mannequin, crashing into it making Lilith wickedly grin and you hear her cackling in your mind.          Sitting up, you see them both fall and you prey that the ninety dollar mannequin didn’t break but those thoughts are diminished once Jake's loud laughter and painful moaning is heard.          You glare to Lilith who only stares innocently at you, taking her attitude in your own hands you grab her special treats from your side table and shake the box. Her attention is grabbed and you walk outside and throw four chunks to the balcony which she races towards. As she sits eating the fishy treats on the balcony outside you close the door locking it, surprising her as she shoots up and scratches at the glass doors which you smirk down on her shaking your head. you tricked me! Lilith hisses and you nod your head let me in, she hisses but you shake your head.          Turning around you find Jake lying on the floor while massaging his own head, you would admit the sight does makes you smile. However it’s quickly wiped away at a sudden booming voice, “{y/n} what was that noise?!” your father yells from downstairs.
    “Nothing Daddy, I just fell my sewing machine trying to move it again!” you yell back. 
       Jumping from your bed, you run to the door locking it pressing your back against it. Hoping he doesn’t do his sudden routine checks yet you start sweating when you hear his heavy steps coming up the stairs.      “Hide!” you whisper turning to face Jake who still lays on the floor massaging his head. Your command makes him turn his head frantically around the room, he runs towards your closet yet you shake your head.         That’s the first place your father checks to see if he thinks you're hiding a boy from him. Also you don’t trust Jake enough thinking he’ll rummage through your things again like he always does when he’s bored and filled with quenched curiosity. You will not forget the last time he hid in your closet and was midway through your fourth grade diary.        this is the saddest book i’ve ever read he said after you snatched the book away from him peering your eyes to the page he was on to see that it was the day Daniel Voriean broke up with you for your best friend who in his opinion was much more interesting than you. Burning the diary afterwards which upset Jake wanting to read the whole thing you warned him time and time again that you had access to Alexandra's copy of his diary and you won’t hesitate to read it.         Last second Jake slips underneath your bed to the pounding of footsteps coming up the stairs.     “There better not be a boy in your room young lady! We’ve talked about this!” your father yells, midway through the stairs you can feel your heart racing in your chest.         You’ve made a promise to your dad that you wouldn’t randomly have boys over without his consent. He was pissed when he walked in on a heated make out session between you and some boy, got more pissed to find out the boy was a part of the same church your family goes to every Sunday. As the father he is, he isn’t exactly pleased at every boy you introduce him to. Never was pleased or liked any of your boyfriends or guy friends of the matter, he didn’t approve of Jake even when you told him he was just a friend.  
       This however, Wyler hiding under your bed had no attachment to you secretly and was not your fault.     “I have the t.v on! I’ll lower it down!” you yell back and with that the footsteps coming from the hall stop.     “Young lady turn that t.v off and go to bed, it's past your bedtime,” he sighs heavily, his voice hollow just outside your door.     “Daddy?” you say, you hear him hum for your response. “Love you,”     “Love you to bumble bee, now head to bed. I want all lights off in ten minutes,” he says and you hear him walk down the staircase and you sigh in relief.          The sigh was a tell for Jake to crawl out from under your bed, “I’m not the only boy who sneaks in your room in the middle of the night?” he whispers, his voice mocking betrayal as he holds his hand to his heart portraying hurt.     “Do I have to remind you that you're not the only boy I speak to? Sorry to break it to you but you aren’t that special,” you whisper back.        He gets up from the floor and roams your room again, “Sure I am, bumble bee,” searching for anything to grab hold of his curiosity and he gleefully smiles to find Lilith standing outside scratching at the door to get in. He’d flip the feline off but pity takes a hold of him instead, you must really be pissed to have her put out since you never really done so before. 
       Shifting his eyes to the mini shrines and collections of Polaroid pictures and posters on your pale pink walls he notices the pictures from last summers beach trip. He smiles at the single photo booth strip of you and him goofing around. Looking closely to all the pictures crowded in bunches on the walls that involve you and him, he’s noticing that his eyes are never on the camera at all but on you in every single picture.         Despite the fact that he’s lazily covering up the truth that he has a small crush on you after all these platonic years, you aren’t connecting the details and pieces. The flirting, the touching, the closeness is all oblivious to you.          Friends you two are and nothing more is all you think and nothing more and frankly he doesn’t understand that but doesn’t push it. He won’t deny that there are times where he does want to fucking push the boundaries and wave the truth in your face but he just chooses not to cause it would be fair to you.         From the other side of the glass Lilith notices this to, she may hate Jake with a passion, trying hard to keep you away from him selfishly but she does emphasize for his feelings for you.
       Continuing to walk around your room, your pink feather boa catches his eyes. Wrapping the accessory that lied on your dresser around his neck, his wandering hands touch and play with your numerous crystals and candles. God how many crystals and candles does one girl need to summon a spooky bitch?        Playful fingers graze against the abundance of hair accessories, lipgloss, and earrings that crowd your dresser. Examining the decor of little trinkets that you’ve bought or he has bought for you. The jewelry music box he bought for your fifteenth birthday grabs his eyes. Opening the rose gold and porcelain designed lid to find the tiny ballerina dancing and twirling along with the Vivaldi melody.          It was easy to know what he wanted to get you, you were obsessed with ballerinas and their elegant grace. It wasn’t easy for him to find something right, he searched and searched everywhere until he stumbled upon the creepy old vintage shop last second a day before your birthday. The way your eyes shimmered and your smile brightened when you saw the present made those hard repeated searches worth it.         Grabbing a small heart shaped perfume bottle he tosses it in the air quickly in his grasp. Knowing you’ve warned him not to touch your things the rule is pushed to the back of his mind when he throws it again, but instead of it falling in his hands it slips through his fingers and shatters onto the floor.        shit!        Shards of tinted glass mix with the glittery red liquid as it seeps into the floor forming a small puddle. The candles besides the burning candle are brought to his attention and he blows them out quickly. The girly aroma of the perfume and the burnt herbal scent of the dark candles fills the room, clouds his thoughts and nostrils that he sneezes.     “shit, {y/n/n} sorry-” he looks to you but your eyes aren’t even on him. 
        They focus on the mannequin which is now standing up, you take measurements and scribble quickly in a little notepad. “What was in the book bag?” you murmur as you measure fabric piece after piece, you scoff realizing the width and thickness is all wrong.     “School work, you’ve been gone for weeks so Mr-” he stops when he notices your mad state.         You throw the notepad and pencil to the side table, retreating back to your bed plopping onto it. You feel like screaming your head off, you been working on that blasted dress for three months now and it still isn’t complete. The prom is only a week away and you’re going to have to go with the hideous back up dress your aunt  wore for her prom which you didn’t dare say was ugly. Who as well as your parents told you, aren’t skilled enough and don’t have the time to make the dress and to just give up on it. You thought of using magic but you didn’t want to use it to get out of this problem for once.     “Thank you for bringing over my homework, are you done here now?” you say, trying not to focus back on the patchwork that lies unfinished but can’t help but not wander your eyes over it time and time again.          With that your stomach rumbles in pain and you whimper at the sharp sting. Walking to your bed and lay down whimpering you curse yourself for taking into your bad habit of sugar. Any normal person would wonder how in the absolute fuck did you manage to chug down all that sugar and molasses. It amazes you that you haven’t even thrown up yet let alone be able to tolerate Jake.
    "Also here,” the sound of plastic wrapping hits your ears as you see Jake dropping the bag of pink, red, and green packets of cherry gummies, strawberry twizzlers and tissue packets in front of you - “I knew when you called me this late at night something was bothering you, so I figured I pick up a few things. But judging from this scene it wasn’t a good idea," he smiles, and you hate how contagious it is that your deep frown lifts to a small smile.      "Shut up," you mumble as you yank another frilly pink throw pillow his way yet he catches it easily throwing it back to you.          Teeth grinning when it slaps against your face, he circles the mannequin examining the ripped dress on it and the pieces of shredded cloth around it. The neckline and bodice shimmer in the light up room and the moonlight gives such a radiant aurora to the red and silver lace. Pretty he thinks yet rethinks this, it'll look even prettier on you.
     "Do you want me to introduce you to Celine?" you suddenly say, making him jump fully startled.      “Celine, that's hot,” he mutters, still observing the dress he licks his lips.         He can’t seem to get the sight of you wearing it out of his head. How he can’t wait for you to wear this at prom and ask you to dance with him. He pushes those thoughts away, he knew you would never feel the same and maybe he was okay with that, maybe…      "Yeah she's got nice tits don't you think? But don't tell her I told you that," smirk still strong you roll your eyes but don’t fight the grin creeping on your lips.      "She already heard, you bastard. God you're such an insensitive piece of shit," you laugh and he can't help but laugh along to, turning to your desk he crouches down eye level with the drawers.
       With that tell you know he isn’t going to leave any time soon and you’re right, he isn’t.           “It’s on the bottom left,” you grunt as he continues searching for the bottle.        Rummaging through the light brown drawers he sees sight of the white wrapping paper around an item in the dark corner of the cabinet. Grabbing it he rips the paper off a large red tinted glass bottle from your secret stash of alcohol. It’s a cheap ten dollar cherry soda liquor but the two of you don’t mind it at all when you're both cooped up here with nothing to do after a long school day facing a hot night of doing nothing.          Pulling the cork out he swooshes the liquid around before taking a swing. Handing you the bottle you shake your head murmuring, “My stomach hurts-” crossing the long red sleeves of your nightgown over your belly.
       The idea of more sugar makes your stomach ache in pain, you weren’t like this an hour ago when you were high on your sugar rush, answering your mother's calls with such an uplifting attitude.     “Come on, just a sip. I hate drinking alone and being your therapist-”     “My therapist?” you say raising your brows to him but he just smirks down nodding his head which you shake yours.      “I think i’ve been through enough of your episodes and given you enough advice-”     “Not any good advice-” but that thought is ignored as he presses a finger to your lips, shushing you.     “As your therapist, i give you your prescription and toxic coping mechanism that i recommend you take twice daily. I present the cheap booze. Drink up,” he interrupts but you shake your head trying your hardest to hold in a laugh as he holds your jaw and carefully lifts the bottle to your lips making you smile as you drink.   
       When you start to purse your lips it’s a sign for Jake that you’ve had enough yet he keeps the bottle up widely smirking, “Jake!” you yelp lightly push the bottle away, wiping your mouth of the sweet red nectar with the back of your hand.        Smiling he takes another swing and drops to your bed, giving a slight bounce to your side. Lying on his side he bends his arm to balance his head and the other keeps the bottle to his lips as he continues drinking. Shaking your head you take the bottle from him,     “That’s enough, you didn’t have to use your mother's ID and dress up as her to get this,” you snatch the bottle from him and take a swing,       “Then why didn’t you use your hocus pocus on the register,” he says       “Doesn’t work like that, i’m still getting used to the book,” you lie      “Sure it doesn’t, are you going to keep your promise and make my mustang fly to? There has to be a spell in that book,” you shake your head with the roll of your eyes, making him snicker.      “I never said that and even if I did I was probably to shit faced to even apprehend anything,” rolling your eyes, unintentionally placing your lips the same place he placed his you take a drink.          The idea of this isn’t weird or gross between you and Jake, you both used to share an apple when you guys got on a bus during elementary, shared lunches and such.      “Where’s the book?” he says snatching the bottle, pursing his lips were you placed yours.      “I hide it, for obvious reasons,” and with that he hums in agreement inattentive making you scoff. 
        The number one person you’re afraid would read it is not your father but Jake. Black magic did have its ways of manipulating the reader into predicaments without them even being aware. The book challenges the one holding it, sees fit whether or not it would like to belong to the specific person.         That night you both had too many beers and had too much time to waste and the book was the only option of entertainment. It was meant as a joke of you buying it from the old shop on the outskirts of town but you did want to see if it did work. When he opened the book he scoffed and said it was empty yet when he passed the book to you the blank pages slowly revealed the ancient jagged ink. This act alone was enough for you both to shit your pants but the average human curiosity never failed to trigger when you cast your first spell.          Much to your enjoyment and luck it worked as you successfully pulled and placed small harmless jinxes of him, such as him stuttering on his words or speaking backwards and not to mention you’ve also successfully levitated him. It was hilarious yet frightening when you pulled physical changes, especially when he yelled at you to bring his black locks back as you tested that bald charm. In the alcoholic excitement of it all their growing questions and wonders needed answers.          Before he left that night you both vowed to keep the book and your ability to use it to yourselves, but you didn’t promise to not abuse the books power to your own advantages. Lets just say, you both had a very amusing month torturing the people you hated and driving lifes messed up situations out of your way. With the daily sessions you practiced you were getting so good that you didn’t need the book, yet you couldn’t tell whether or not that alone was warning.         
        Jake grabs the slightly worn out but well kept pink bunny rabbit from your pillows, keeping it sandwiched between his arms you grab the bottle and take another swing of the cherry.        The memory of him buying it for you replays, it was the end of a typical elementary school day that you and Jake went out to the local shop. Buying pop its and slushies you had three extra quarters in your pocket and the sight of the pink bunny from the vending machine by the entrance was calling for you to win it. Failing the first two times you took to Jakes assistance who in your opinion no matter how clumsy he was could win it for you. Taking the controls in his hands he said before he won it for you ‘three is lucky, if we lose this we’ll either have bad luck for seven years or this is an unlucky quarter’         That day seemed like yesterday, you were happy to go home with the plushie that day but even happier to know you had Jake as a friend. Now seven years later nothings changed, except your growing interest for witchcraft that would make your Christian of a fathers head spin and Jake having no breaks because of football practice.          It was safe having a solid friendship that didn’t break no matter the silly things you guys did to each other. Things like him breaking or misplacing your things and you putting gum in his hair and using him as a dummy to practice new rituals and spells you both were inseparable. 
        Looking to the balcony you find Lilith gone, most likely finding something to satisfy her endless appetite.     “{y/n},” the whisper is almost silent but the softness is enough for you to snap out. “Yeah?” you say averting your eyes to his,       “I know you didn’t call me because of your coke addiction or because you wanted to summon Lucifer, what’s really wrong?”     “Nothing, it’s nothing-” muttering your eyes slip from his as you sit up.     “You think I don’t know when you’ve been crying, bumble bee?” he says yet you shake your head. “Its nothing, I shouldn’t have called you-” your lips are sealed by his finger.     “Carrot Cake hates the lack of communication,” he says, moving the bunny to face you he shakes its head.     “There’s nothing to talk about Jake-” but he shushes you again, taking Carrot Cake to his ears playing as if she’s whispering something to him.      “What did you say Carrot Cake? You want y/n to stop lying to us? To stop lying to her caring best friend?” his brows arching in their playful manner that makes all the girls woo yet you roll your eyes.      “You’re an idiot Jake Wyler,” you say softly smiling, flicking Jakes forehead. Face morphing from smiling to wincing in pain and he collapses backwards, hand to his forehead and an arm pulling Carrot Cake close to his torso.     “THE PAIN!” he cries yet you quickly bend over him to cover his mouth, his eyes widen as you do so yet you still play along.     “You’re going to get us caught,” whispering harshly he smiles against your hand.     “God for a jock you’re such a dork Wyler,” whispering and giggling at the silly situation, two fingers at his lips you trace them before you pull them away.      
       At this moment you don’t realize how close you are to him, your faces only inches apart and your hands sprawled over his chest gripping the sweater in your grasps. Smelling the spirit cherries in his breath, the scent of his hair and the spicy cologne that rubbed on his neck. His lips were soft against your fingers, you wonder, how would they feel when their redness were against yours.     “{y/n}?” Jakes voice snaps you out of your thoughts and your eyes dash to his blue.     “Sorry,”  getting off of him, you can’t believe that you wanted to, thought of kissing your best friend.          Shushing those thoughts you take the alcohol from your side table and chug it down. Jake was your friend, he had a girlfriend and you’re just tipsy overthinking things.       “{y/n}, look at me,” your eyes shift to his as you lie your head on your pillow.     “You would tell me if something was bothering you, right?” he says, lying down next to you. His blue eyes are soft and comforting, telling you to open up to him.     “My parents are getting a divorce,” the break in your voice is strong and your eyes water with tears, forcing them not to spill.
       Jake stops smiling, he did know about your fathers affair and your mothers business scandal and he has heard the rumors about them divorcing but he just thought they were all rumors, town gossip coming and going. He would confess that he was curious about wanting to know whether or not those rumors were true but he didn’t want to confront you about them. Stepping on the painful nerve that you’ve been trying to mask and ignore wasn’t an option but he wished he didn’t push you on telling him.     “I’m sorry {y/n/n}, is ther-”     “There’s nothing you can do Jake, trust me i’ve tried everything.” you spat, your glance trails to the pentagram engraved on your floor in front of the bed, you sacrificed Goldberg for this shit. 
        Trying everything, from talking to your parents to family therapy to black magic to a fucking love potion and nothing seems to work. Hours upon hours you and Lilith invested in reading every inch, every page of the book and tried every single spell in it and even the ones you and her came up with gave no results. You look to Jake, hating how he seems to blame himself for your suffering.     “You don’t have to apologize Jake, it isn’t your fault they have an unhappy marriage.” whispering you smile at him but he knows how forced it is. He has no idea how hurt your feelings are but he hates to see you cry. He hates it more just lying there watching you shed them.     “So why are you putting it on yourself?” he says squeezing your hand in his you don’t pull away.     “I can’t help it, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what i’m doing anymore,” the tears you tried so hard to bite down slip to your cheeks.     “{y/n} i’m going to be honest, wishing to Satan to solve your parents marriage isn’t going to work,” he says and you laugh at that but he doesn’t smile back.     “I could try,” you say with a sad smile, you are something. The bottle that was forgotten is in your hands and you take a long sip before handing it to him, barely anything left he chugs it all down.         
        Putting the cherry aside there are no more words left between you and him, no smart ass remarks or stupid jokes. Eyes burning against each other, hands roam their bodies and your fingers that were on his lips before are back on his again.        Wild thoughts begin to unfold, wet tears ending and skin beginning to show. His hands hesitant to grab your bare thigh before holds it, where is this going? Your eyes don’t cast away, your cold hand hovers the side of his face. Cold fingers tracing the skin and side burns while your thumb smooths the skin of his cheekbone. 
        This night is different compared to all the other liquor soaked nights before. His hesitant hands rake up underneath the cloth of your red night dress, your breath becoming heavy. Is this what you two have been waiting for? Seven years of friendship to end like this, ensure if its a question or command who knows. All you know is that his thumb is now tracing the outline of your underwear, hand not shy and growing in seeking pleasure.          Not daring to break the lustful stare the hand that’s caressing his cheek rakes through his hair and he shuts his eyes. He doesn’t pull away when your hips lean in for his touch, craving more of it he responds by creeping his fingers underneath the stretchy lace band. Biting your lip, your vision is red tinted and you don’t wish to hesitate as you break free the first tree buttons of his jacket.
        Both of you don’t pull away, its like you two know what you guys want to do but are waiting for something. Someone to say stop, to say keep going.          to say something, do something and with that very thought you see Lilith scratching at the door. Knowing that was your sign to stop, you just can’t. This feels to good, the cherry tasted to good for you two not to do this, so with the bat of your lashes the curtains silently close.          Every dream he’s had with you underneath him seems to short circuit compared to this. The soft skin of your hips and thighs draw against his fingertips, the touch leaving your heat wetting and your heart pacing. The cotton seam of the legs band drags slowly against your skin as he pulls it down a bit. 
        Stare still very much strong and present, not a frown, smile or smirk is shared. Shifting your bodies closer, your face is only centimeters away from his.          The energy of your atoms vibrating and radiating, begging him to touch you, to feel you. Why is it so hard for him to do so yet so easy for him to keep leading up to this?          He knows what he wants and you know what you want, you both could easily solve this but there is a price for things like this. The red cherry atmosphere that surrounds you can’t detect the warning fee, his hand now fully in your cotton garment. 
        There is always a price but the warning is pushed back to the black end of his mind. Only one thing is crossed on his mind that he does understand and that he isn’t scared anymore to do.        kiss her, kiss her, kiss her           A cool breath waving onto his face his eyes don’t leave yours, “Jake?” whisper airy and warm. “{y/n}?” No words, a push of your lips on his and its over.         Seconds after that you’re left speechless as he mounts over you, one hand still in your panties the other holds your face.          this is what you wanted, this is what you both have come to        Lips hungry and hands needy you both have no self control. You can’t think when his mouth is against yours, when his single hand rubs slowly against your dripping cunt the feeling is so much that it makes you stop. Your lips don’t dance against his and your hands push him. 
        The action makes him release your mouth, scrunches his brows looking down at you. “Did I do something wrong?” he says, eyes roaming your face and body to see a sign of pain or distress.      “Y-you’re with Priscilla I can’t-” holding his shoulders you don’t want to push him away but you can’t look at him.     “We broke up,” that soft gasp rings in your ears, shaking your head even when he smiles at that.     “I’m sorry Jake-” you aren’t able to finish as he presses his cherry blood lips against yours. “Don’t be,” he moans as his cherry tongue swirls with yours.
        The pull you have on his jacket leaves him pulling away slightly to take it off before allowing him to mount you again. Hands on either side of your head yous claw his back and slip behind the hem of his shirt, shivering under your cold touch just a slight. He releases your lips, a thin string of saliva between you and him breaks and you heavily breathe.     “Why’d you stop,” it isn’t a question but it isn’t a command either, a smirk forms on his lips. Your dress that reaches your knee is raked up by his hand cupping your sex teasingly rubbing it making you moan, he feels your liquid dripping in his palms. Bending his neck down to kiss your jaw he traces his lips from your chin to your neck.     “My apologies bumble bee, i’ll never do that again,” the hint of the joke makes you roll your eyes but don’t say anything back.
       The single red river that you slipped onto your neck has dried but the scent and sight of the dark red stain has Jake hypnotized. Tongue hot and watering he licks the red sticky river from your neck, his liquor soaked lips kissing and sucking the area. You bite your lip as he rubs your core harder, it’s all enough for you to pull his head closer, fingers combing through his hair you feel heavenly.        Head finally clear of any stressful thoughts, clear of any stabbing anxiety's. Only on him, how his tongue feels so good and his hands do magic in their own way on you. It leaves you knowing how Jake has girls hooked on him. He knows how their bodies work, what flesh drive them crazy and which sensitive areas long to be touched. Keenly knowing what parts to rub and what areas to lick and suck he has the upper hand and you don’t mind to be underneath. 
        Letting someone take control is different, it feels different but you can’t help  but also feel that this is to good to be true. These events and these pleasures are to good to be true or for them to happen to you. Girls at St. John wish for Jake Wyler to come through their bedroom window and kiss and touch them like this. He wasn’t at all hesitant or heart broken to be doing this with you when Priscilla broke up with him, he would do the same to you.          No, your heart pulls, Jake wouldn’t do that to you. But he would, he always does. The dreaded conflict circling in your mind as he takes your lips to yours, you want to pull away from him but you want to kiss back.          How your mind makes you suffer and your heart pains you internally curse the cherie. What you thought was the cure was but a contradicting paradox, nothing every seems to make your anxieties rest even with the desirable tendencies of teenage lust. 
        A loud knock at your door interrupts your thoughts and makes Jake rubbing at your core stop. “I will not repeat myself {y/n}, lights out.” your fathers tired voice says, you roll your eyes when you feel Jake smirk in your neck.     “I’m already in bed, just reading!” you say while his lips are still nibbling at your neck moving the neckline of your nightdress father down. “Night daddy,” trying your hardest not to let out a moan.     “Goodnight sweetheart,” he says and he hear his footsteps walk away from your door to his room around the hall.     “You still call your dad ‘daddy’?” Jake says pulling away from your neck to meet your eyes.     “Whats wrong with that, am I to old?” your eyes piercing his, it was just a word you use beside dad and you never know why people; mainly your friends question you on that.     “No, its just- uh nevermind.” he rubs his neck, an awkward silence presenting itself.     “What? Tell me Jake,” you say yet he shakes his head smirking.     “No, it’s nothing. It’s cute, that’s all,” he says finding it adorable how innocent you are.
        He gets up from your bed, searching for his jacket he threw. Your cotton panties lie on the bed as they were, untouched. Sitting up you walk to your sewing table, maybe he won’t grab them cause he knows you’re watching
       You grab the bag Jake brought with the homework of the week and pretend to be busy with it. Eyes wondering to him to see he’s not grabbing them and stuffing them in his pocket, not even bothering to look at them.          Was this a good sign or a bad one? Every girl who’s been with Jake eventually speaks about it in the girls shower room openly stating that if and when Jake took any girls panties (which he rarely does) was different, special even. He rarely spoke to you about the girls he’s been with because you tell him not to, yet there are times when you’re both drunk on the beer he’d bring and you’d share stories about those times. He always said it was dirty, not his sort of thing but even that had some lie to it cause he always opens up to you on the most vulgar topics. 
        Turning to face him you grab the underwear and put it in his hands, his brows furrow at you. “Take them,” you say and he looks at you, arms are crossed over your chest. Glare holding both fire and water he’s unsure what your problem is, you both were smiling minutes ago.      “No,” the bluntness takes you by surprise, handing them back you snatch them away.     “Why? You don’t like them?” you say. “It’s not like that-”      “Did I do something?” you cut in.  “No you di-”      “Am I not good enough than those other girl-” his lips shut you up and the underwear balled up in your fist falls to the floor.     “It’s because you’re not those other girls that I won’t take them. We didn’t even go out on, you know a, d-da-” he fumbles, he never really was great with words.     “A date?” you question and with that he smiles and sighs thankfully.     “Yes, a date, and I am being serious. I have a strong code for the girls I like, date before I take panties. You’re far to good for me to skip that step. I’m thinking the diner off 67th Harlem, how bout it?” voice lingering hoping fro you to answer as the two of you walk to your balcony. He turns your lamp off and you close the glass doors behind you.     “Yes? No? Don’t leave me hanging, bumble bee,” the awkward hesitation in his lingering voice now replaced with the confident loud Jake you know.     “I think I need some convincing, what would I get out of it?” you say, your cheeky smirk has him setting you down on the railing and pressing a hot kiss to your lips, before you kiss back he pulls away.     “If you want the end to that kiss you’ll have it Friday at that date,”     “I don’t kiss on the first date,” but with that he presses a kiss to your cheek, smirking at the warm blush creeping upon your cheeks. “We’ll see bumble bee,”
      Hands at your waist he lifts you off the railing carefully, and you jump back when he suddenly throws himself off it hanging from the ivy on the brick wall of the house. The action takes you by surprise but you’re quickly eased when he see him moving around till he’s facing you on the other side of the railing, eyes locked and connected you steal a quick kiss on his cherry lips.          The swift action making him fumble, lovesick lights dancing in his cerulean irises. “Dream of me?” you whisper, fingers combing through his hair causing his heart flutters at those honeyed words.        How could he not? Heavenly face shining brightly against the silver moonlight, your crimson nightgown going to well against the gardenia scent of your soft skin. not dreaming of you would be a crime he hasn’t ever committed     “I always do-” he sighs, eyelids half way closed.
       Pushing his body up to lean in closer, he grabs the side of your neck pulling your lips to his. The second before both your lips begin to touch Lilith suddenly emerges out of nowhere on the railing “A’m I interrupting something?” her smooth voice hums. “I knew it!-” Jake yells and with the grip he has on the ivy ropes and balcony's ledge he loses grip on the ivy and falls down.      “Are you okay!” you yell, you don’t hear an answer. “I’m coming down!” turning around you stop in your tracks once you hear a muttering of i’m fine’s      “I’m okay! Stay were you are, don’t worry about me!” he laughs back to you. The situation has you giggling as you lean on the balcony’s railing, resting your face on your hand you wink down to Jake who gets up to his feet like nothing happened.      “I’m sorry,” giggling you hush it loud enough for him to hear.      “It’s fine {y/n}, now I know i’m not crazy,” he smiles up to you and you laugh while Lilith rolls her eyes.          “See you at school Jake.” you whisper, moonlight eyes shining to his.       “See you at school, bumble bee.” he mouths back, throwing you a soft wink making you smile.        Waving him goodbye and he the same you turned away from your balcony and open the glass doors to your room. A sweet hum in your saccharine voice you sway back and forth. Even though you didn’t get that last kiss you were still softly singing and swooning.        When you enter the dark room you turn your lamp on jumping as the sudden figure revealing your father who’s hands are at his hips. “Young lady you are grounded.” 
          Those words don’t break your trance, because you are still smiling against your fathers aggravatingly tired glance. A smile still graces your lips and you walk to your bed tucking yourself in, “For what?” you say trying your hardest to sound innocent and you wish you could take the stupid question back.          For your father only responds with just a glare gesturing to the pentagram carved on the floor, the liquor bottle in his hand and poor Goldberg floating upside down in the middle of it all. Lilith quickly prances inside, swiftly throwing something that was in her mouth into a clutter of clothes. Quickly snatching Goldberg in her mouth, chewing on the fish causing your father to sigh in disgust down at her.          “I’m sorry dad, I-” you stutter but he intervenes      “No, it’s my fault. It’s the divorce, I shouldn’t have put you through this. I haven’t considered how your feeling.” and with that your father and you talk and chat about everything stressing you and him and you two compromise.          The resolution was he would speak to your mother about the divorce only if you went back to school. While cleaning up the mess your father was understanding about your situation, figuring this witchcraft as a ‘phase’. Still grounded lets get that straight but you both were getting on a better base then before. Reminding you no matter the changes you, your mother and him were going to go through, he was still going to be your father and you will love and care for you.         Tucking you in your father lightly kisses your temple, “Night dad,” you say and he smiles at your doorway shutting your light off. “Night bumble bee,” he says before closing the door.  
     “Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” Lilith hums, resting her curled body next to yours, you smile softly at her as you scratch the special spot behind her ears which she purrs leaning more into your calming touch. “Yeah, wasn’t expecting that at all,” you say, a series of joy washing over your body.       “What was in your mouth when you came in?” you say and Lilith cackles, jumping from your bed she bites an item from a small opening behind your bookshelf. Jumping back onto your bed, she places the item on your bed and you stare confounded to find its a dead mouse. “If you don’t want to keep it, i’m eating it,” she says and you roll your eyes. It was the least you could do to give in the Queen of Hells favors.      “Go nuts,” you say and she quickly takes the dead thing and hides it away. In your likeness you rather not look to where the dreaded thing is hidden knowing it’s only between the likes of Lilith and her pit of a stomach.      “If you don’t mind me reeling you back to reality {y/n}, but how are you suppose to go on that date with Jake when you’re grounded?” Lilith says setting back down on the other side of your pink flowery pillow. 
        You only look up at the moon, it’s violet essence shining down you smile to Lilith. “I’ll find a way, I always do,” you softly say before a yawn clouds your thoughts as you snuggle into your covers.       “Why do I even bother talking sense into you, you’re completely hopeless,” Lilith hums and you shush her. “Shh, I have school tomorrow I need to be up early from now on,” you say and Lilith purrs and shuts her glowing green eyes.      “I know, that’s why i’m coming with,” and you giggle at that, “No, you’re not,” and Lilith shushes you instead. “We’ll see about that,” and with that you roll your eyes and close them.          The cool rose scented breeze filling the room fills your chest and you feel reborn in some way. How the pressuring emotions of denial, anger and sadness lift from you sprouting a new blossom from a rotten stem. 
        Maybe change isn’t that bad as you thought and believed, opening your eyes to see the moon looking back to you and you softly smile before the heaviness of sleep swallow you into blissful dream.
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sambergscott · a year ago
your son is going to love you
Summary: Peralta dads are cursed, destined to have terrible relationships with their sons. When Jake finds out *he's* going to have a son, he spirals. Amy helps.
goes without saying that if you haven’t watched 7x10 yet maybe don’t read this
She wakes up at 2am needing to pee.
She’s been waking up needing to pee a lot lately.
It’s like their baby has no respect for her sleeping pattern, perfectly honed over the years to maximise productivity, while still fitting in the full 8 hours of sleep needed a day. Their baby doesn’t care about the 8 hour recommendation, he laughs in the face of scientists. With the bad back and heart burn and constant kick, kick, kicking of her bladder, she’s averaging 4.7. She thought babies didn’t start keeping you up all night until they were born but, oh, how wrong she was.
She pats her husband to wake him up and come keep her company. If she’s awake because of their baby, then damn it, he’s going to be awake, too. But he’s not there, leaving her hand awkwardly patting a bare mattress.
“Jake?” She murmurs groggily, sitting up and switching on her bedside lamp. She’s half-expecting him to be sitting in the armchair playing Mario Party on his Switch (he has become a little bit addicted in the last few months and it wouldn’t be the first time she’s found him trying to beat Wario in the early hours of the morning) or have left a note beside her bed that he had a lead on a case and needed to go in with a scribbled ‘love you’ underneath and a lopsided heart. The armchair is empty, but there’s a light on down the hall and since there’s no way she forgot to turn it off before bed (she triple checks), she figures that it must be Jake.
Forgetting the whole reason why she woke up in the first place, she grabs Jake’s hoodie from the floor for warmth and pads into their living-kitchen-dining area. It’s the open plan-ness that made her fall in love with the apartment upon first visit and submit all her paperwork as soon as she was out the door. It’s the open plan-ness that would make the Property Brothers proud and the dumb people who go on that show foam at the mouth with jealousy. It’s the open plan-ness that allows her to see her husband straight away, snacking on the unfinished party food.
(Apparently people don’t feel like eating after a man cuts his thumb off and spurts blood everywhere. Who’d have thought?)
There’s a weird, pensive look on his face that draws her towards him.
“You OK, babe?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he responds. He pops a tomato from the salad bowl in his mouth, then another, then another.
She narrows her eyes. He never eats tomatoes unless they’re in ketchup or on top of a famous Sal’s pizza. Something is wrong.
She thinks back on their day, mentally rewinding the events from waking up to the morning briefing to their private sex reveal in the break room and finding out they’re having a boy (the empty cake box and blue frosting around Scully’s mouth was very surprising indeed). They were both floating on Cloud 9 all afternoon, came home and Zoomed the entire family, falling asleep on the couch around 9.30pm because pregnancy is exhausting.
Nothing particularly awful stands out.
“Are you thinking about your Grandpa?”
He’d been so excited to see him again, so excited to reunite Walter Peralta  with Roger, The Admiral with the Captain. To be honest, Amy was less than impressed. He’d been nice enough to her, asked her about her job, about the baby, small talked about the weather. But he never asked her about Jake, probed about the 20 odd years of his grandson’s life that he’d missed out on. Which is frustrating because she has a lot of embarrassing stories ready to tell and a whole photo album of Jake on her phone. He couldn’t care less about Roger or Jake, storming out of the sex reveal party after calling his son a screw up and turning off his phone so they couldn’t get in contact with him. He’s a selfish dick and her husband deserves better. Still, he won’t be thinking about what a monster Walter turned out to be, he’ll be finding ways to blame himself that yet another father walked out of his life again.
He nods silently and she leads him to the couch.
“Talk to me, Jake.”
He releases a shaky breath. “The Peralta’s are cursed.”
“With devastatingly handsome good looks?” She half-jokes, trying to lighten the mood. Because, hello, her husband is hot; she constantly overhears other women in the precinct talking about his glow up and it would be impossible to ignore the female attention he gets in bars and even just walking down the street before he scratches his face to show off his wedding band and wraps one arm proudly around his wife’s shoulders. She’s seen the pictures of a young Roger Peralta, too, and with that charm smile... she gets it.
“Thank you,” he smiles briefly, “but no. Peralta dads are cursed with terrible relationships with their sons.”
“That’s not going to be you,” she says without hesitation, without a shred of doubt.
“How do you know?” He launches into a scathing personal indictment that leaves his cheeks stinging with tears. “I’m immature, obsessed with my work, messy, always late. My dad was never around when I was a kid. I don’t even know what dads do with their sons! And what if it’s in my genes? To be a crappy dad, abandon my kid like a dozen Peralta fathers before me. Your parents still don’t think I’m good enough. You didn’t even like me at first. It only makes sense that our baby would hate me, too.”
“Woah, babe. Slow down. Let’s unpack that one at a time.” She wipes away his tears with his hoodie sleeve and squeezes his hand. “First of all, you are way more mature now than you used to be. We bought a family friendly Sedan. You read parenting books. You were eating fruit, like, two minutes ago.”
“Tomatoes are fruits?”
“What? Yes, how do you not - not the point.” She shakes her head. “And so what, you enjoy your job. That’s a good thing, Jake! Do you understand how rare that is? You’re doing the thing you love while providing a decent income for our family. And besides, I’m way more obsessed than you. I have FOMOW, but that doesn’t mean I won’t love our kid more than anything. And as for the messy, late thing, if I can look past it because of how much I love you, so will our son.”
“Love you, too,” he mumbles.
“Now onto your point about not knowing what dads do, that is a straight up lie and we both know it, Peralta. You’re always hanging out with Charles and Nikolaj and Lord Knows Terry doesn’t shut up about all the activities he does with his girls.”
“I know what they do when I’m around, but what do you do when it’s 5am and they won’t go back to sleep?” He frets. “At what age do you introduce them to Die Hard? In Cry Hard With A Vengeance,” he quotes the parenting book she originally bought him as a joke but has kind of become his Torah, “Bruce Willis says right away, but what if he’s not ready to understand the complex plots? What if he prefers Timothy Olyphant to William Atherton? Oh my God, what if our son doesn’t think Die Hard is a Christmas movie?”
He’s spiralling and it’s a good job he’s with the only person who can truly calm him down.
“I think Bruce Willis is just trying to promote his franchise and that we’ll be watching more Paw Patrol than Die Hard for the next few years, babe, but I’m sure when he is old enough, he will love the movies as much as you.”
“Right,” he agrees, “you’re totally right. Action thrillers aren’t very baby friendly. I’ll just watch it on mute with subtitles.”
She laughs, her eyes crinkling in the corners. She loves him so much. Which segways them nicely onto his final two points.
“My parents do love you. Sure, they’re critical, but that’s just the way they are. They’re the same way to all of us. My mom complains to everyone she meets about how I can’t cook, how Tony hasn’t settled down and made her any beautiful grandbabies yet, even Perfect David faces her wrath when he goes a week without phoning her. If the worst thing my mom has to say about you is that you’re below average in height, you’re doing OK. And as for me apparently not liking you at first, I did like you.”
He furrows his brow. “But you said you found me annoying and difficult to be around.”
“Yet I didn’t ask to switch desks, continued working cases with you and went to Shaw’s whenever I was invited.” She stares at him pointedly. “If I really found you difficult to be around, I wouldn’t have stayed. I thought you were cute and funny and good at your job and yeah, you were annoying too, but,” she shrugs, “it never put me off.”
“So what you’re saying is that you had a crush on me first,” he grins.
“No. You obviously had a crush on me back then, too. What I’m saying is that I love you, our son loves you and you’re going to be a great dad.”
He blushes, ducking his head. “My dad said the same thing. About our son loving me.”
“He’s right,” she replies. “I feel him kick every time you get home from work, every time you sing to Taylor Swift in the car, every time I mention your name. Why didn’t you believe him?”
“I don’t know, still nervous about the curse, I guess.” He twists his wedding band on his finger.
Amy bites her lip. “Are you not excited about us having a boy?”
She has to ask. His excitement looked genuine in the break room, but it’s no secret that he was hoping for a girl. A mini-Amy, he said. While she’s always been more accustomed to boys considering the Santiago’s have, like, a million of them, Jake couldn’t get over the image of a little girl in dresses and doing ballet and with long, dark hair that he eventually learns to braid.
“Of course I am,” he’s quick to assure her. “Stupid excited. Never been more excited for anything. Not even the Ninja Turtles reboot. But still... nervous.” He rubs his hand over his face, muffling his voice. “Everyone is assuming what kind of dad I’m going to be. Whether I’m going to be good at it or not. To be fair, the only person who doubted me is that murderer I arrested last week, obviously not my biggest fan. Everyone else is convinced I can do it. What if I can’t? What if I’m genetically wired to be a bad dad? What if I disappoint you and our baby and Charles who has been dreaming about this forever?”
“Jake,” she softens her voice, pulling his hand away from his face, “the fact you are so worried about being a bad dad proves that you will not be one. Nor could you ever disappoint us.”
“But you’re my wife. You have to say that.”
“I would never have married you and become your wife if I thought you were the kind of person who could abandon your kid,” she promises him. “You have been perfect so far, dealing with all the vitamins and over-scheduled sex and washing my clothes when I sweat through them and holding my hair back when I’m being sick. You’ve been to every doctor’s appointment, read every binder, bought me every weird food craving. You hang out with the bump every night, talking and singing to it. I know you’re going to be a great dad, Jake, because you already are one.”
She kisses him and it’s soft and tender and filled with love, only interrupted by the kick, kick, kicking of their son.
“Hey,” Jake says in his best authoritative dad voice/John McClane dealing with German terrorists voice (he’s been practising in front of the mirror following Bruce’s advice), pointing a warning finger at the bump. “I’m going to kiss your mom as much as I want, Peralta. I loved her first.”
Amy giggles, stroking her fingers through Jake’s unruly curls. His bedhead is always wild and it’s maybe her favourite thing in the entire world. She silently sends a message of her own to their son to inherit his dad’s hair. And eyes. And handsome smile.
He kicks again as if to say ‘OK, mom’.
And then she really needs to pee.
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Thoughts and feelings about Pacific Rim 2?
you sure you wanna open up that particular can of worms?
movie review time! be warned i'm not in a good mood as i am shaking in pain, however this review would have been scathing regardless. and none of this is to say pacific rim is perfect, it's not, but... aye, i have no words for the world of difference there. oh wait! i do:
so. first and foremost, i hate it. as both a movie and a sequel. did i find it entertaining? yes, mildly, so i suppose it did its job, however the only thing that keeps me watching it is because, simply, it's part of the pacific rim franchise whether we like it or not. therefore, i squeeze as much salvageable content from it as i can, such as how one might analyze the precursors, how we are to view hermann and newt as characters pre-, during, and post-uprising, what we are to expect from drifting (though this one i take with a grain of salt, there is a whole other rant preserved for the joke of an attempt to develop that shit within the movie)
one of my biggest issues with pacific rim is really simple: it plays out like DeKnight did not watch the first fucking movie or was scrolling through twitter while doing it and decided he'd make a cash grab since the first one was relatively popular. "haha the kaiju were going for mount fuji the whole time!!" bitch no they weren't!!! why the fuck did they end up anywhere near sydney, australia, then!!! why did they turn tail on places like manila and san fran instead of heading straight for japan!!! WHY DID THE ONE THAT WAS IN JAPAN NOT SUCCEED, THERE'S NO WAY WITH THOSE MARK 1 JAEGERS THEY'D HAVE BEEN ABLE TO REASONABLY FIGURE OUT THEIR PLAN AND WHERE THEY WERE GOING IN TIME TO STOP THEM!!! newt literally lays out what they are doing in the first movie and they completely ignored that!!! not to mention, if the destruction from elements found in mount fuji would have been enough to terraform the earth, WHY DIDN'T THEY JUST FUCKING DO THAT WHEN THEY WERE SUPPOSEDLY ON EARTH AGES AGO??? THERE WERE VOLCANOES WITH THOSE SAME ELEMENTS BEFORE RIGHT NOW, VOLCANOES ARE NOT A RELATIVELY NEW THING EARTH CREATED SUDDENLY AND I WOULD IMAGINE NEITHER ARE THOSE ELEMENTS!!! IT MAKES NO SENSE!!! and.... okay the fucking drones. how did those bitches make breaches??? we know the breach is some result of precursor/kaiju technology, apparently they know the breach's atomic structure as hermann said in the first movie, but how tf some kaiju organs and tech from earth only is ALL it takes to open a breach... illudes and confuses me... why were no more breaches made by the precursors once they realized how long and how many resources it was taking to kill the humans off??? if it's??? shit they could do with simple earth materials + their own biology??? they could have ended things much faster??? shit just doesn't add up, idk, that was Vague and Annoyed Me
and the jaegers.... were....... strange? the fight scenes were so underwhelming, i could count on one hand the number of maneuvers—NOT SCENES, MANEUVERS—i thought were badass and moved well. their fighting was confusing and paced really weird and some of the moves they pulled... don't... work like that... like some of those scenes were just hand-to-hand combat but in big robot form and they didn't sit right with me at all.
and the characters......... oh my word, the characters. look: i love jake pentecost with all of my heart and soul and john boyega's beautiful acting just barely saves the movie from its poor writing. i do love him as a character. but can someone explain to me why in the world they thought it was a good idea to make the only black guy a black market thief/runner, deep-record criminal with daddy and authority issues, and who they dare try to play off as some kind of lazy??? they made him every stereotype they could and said "yeah let's go with that". i'm- aaaaaaaaaaaaaa and what was with the child soldiers??? ROBOCOPS?????? mako....... character assassination at its worst........ my baby......... but the movie was paced so GOD DAMN POORLY I GOT BORED AND LITERALLY MISSED HER DYING THE FIRST TIME I WATCHED IT. and i couldn't tell you the names of half of those poor damn kids, i really couldn't. and can i also say they killed off one of the only two darker skinned kids?? like y'all???? the other darker skinned kids (one of the children i can't remember the names of because it was uttered ONCE in the entire movie or some shit) didn't even GET characterization. my whole heart goes out to her and those other underdeveloped fucks. speaking of...... i am ashamed about jules. from the movie that brought us the mako mori test, they threw in a girl simply for the sake of some shitty, awkward, and unexplained love triangle between jake and White Angst without much else to put to her name. she deserved better. amara was... a decent shot, but very hit or miss because of the writing. i, personally, am very neutral about her leaning towards liking her, but i know people who swing love and who swing hate. liwen was like,,,, they tried really hard to make her unlikable at the beginning because "oh no, she must be the villain! GOTTEM plot twist!!!" and then suddenly she's no longer. threatening everyone except newt. idk i feel like they leaned to heavily one way and i got whiplash when she's actually another but there was nothing to... portray that. at all. i do like her character, and that says a lot because they got me to sympathize with a capitalist without actually regretting it later, but there could/should have been More there. she was powerful, though, in multiple different aspects, and we saw that from her CONSISTENTLY and i 😳🥵👀💕 mako mori test pass for her
now, let's talk about hermann (and by extention, newton, however he'll be getting a section all his own the rat bastard). that man is one of the single instances of decent cross-movie characterization i saw in the whole god damn film. the idea that he takes on newton's roles, that he is more outspoken for himself, that he is just slightly more unhinged after his drift with newton: THAT is on point. he's himself, you can see it, you still know that he's hermann with ever step, but there's something that has shifted in him in those 10 years and it's good without being too much. the "i still get nightmares" scene, the way he presents himself, that scene gives me chills because god bless burn gorman and his acting ability. every face and intonation of his voice is just wonderful and i think his performance was great for what he was given. king shit.
the biggest disappointment of my life came in the form of a kaiju vest wearing bitch at work. at his corporate job. as a boss. for a tech company that undermines all of his and, frankly, hermann's work over their lifetimes. 10 years older and exaggerated to the teeth. newton "move you fascist" geiszler. let me preface this by stating for all to see that i do not hate the idea of newton being the villain. story wise it was a bold move and there was something possible there. BUT THE IMPLICATION THAT ONE OF THE MOST OBVIOUSLY NEURODIVERGENT CHARACTERS IN THE WHOLE FUCKING FRANCHISE, ESPECIALLY GIVEN THAT HE HAS BEEN CHARACTERIZED AS HAVING A "BORDERLINE MANIC PERSONALITY" AKA HAVING ONE OF THE MOST DEMONIZED MENTAL ILLNESSES OUT THERE, ENDS UP ACTING AS THE GOD DAMN VILLAIN OF THE STORY IS A HOT GARBAGE TAKE WHEN YOU FACTOR IN THINGS LIKE POOR WRITING NOT MAKING IT CLEAR WHETHER OR NOT NEWTON IS EVEN IN CONTROL OF HIS OWN FACULTIES AND THE VAGUENESS OF "WILL HE BE 'REDEEMED' OR NOT" BEING UP IN THE AIR LIKELY NEVER TO BE CANONICALLY FUCKING ANSWERED BECAUSE BECKHAM AND DEKNIGHT SHAT OUT A MOVIE THAT BOMBED IN THE BOX OFFICE. we aren't even gonna TALK about the fact that this bitch got AWAY with it despite not even acting in a remotely stable way comparable to himself in the first movie in the 10 years he supposedly dropped off the map from all of his friends because, clearly, hermann hadn't seen him or he wouldn't be so excited with a picture of the two of them on his desk, nor would he have to tell newton about his idea for rocket thrusters with kaiju blood fuel because he would have simply written to him about it. for some strange reason people see his ass show up decked out in a suit he wouldn't even wear for Stacker Fucking Pentecost and a behavior of "Haha Gotta Listen To The Boss" and think "ah, yes, well, time changes a person. THIS BITCH HAS APPARENTLY BEEN LIKE THIS THE WHOLE TIME, YOU THINK HE GOT A JOB WITH LIWEN LOOKING AND ACTING LIKE HE DID BEFORE AND THERE WAS A SHIFT OVER TIME? NO, HE HAD TO HAVE CHANGED IN A SPLIT DECISION AND LIED ABOUT HIMSELF THROUGH HIS TEETH AND NO ONE CONTACTED HIM, OR WAS WORRIED ABOUT HIM, OR DECIDEDLY THOUGHT "YOU KNOW, HE MAY BE EMBOLDENED THAT HE SAVED THE WORLD, BUT I THINK SOMETHING LIKE THAT WOULD HAVE THE EXACT OPPOSITE EFFECT ON HIM AND HE WOULD DO HIS BEST TO AMPLIFY HIS CURRENT STANDING TRAITS. LISTENING TO AND KISSING THE BOOT OF AUTHORITY FIGURES? DIVORCING HIMSELF FROM HIS WORK WITH KAIJU XENOBIOLOGY THAT EVEN HERMANN PICKED UP? TO BECOME THE THING HE HATES? AND FOR WHAT? MONEY? FAME? BITCH WHO ARE YOU?" unreasonable. ridiculous attempt to do this just for a plot twist that was underwhelming at best. i've decided to stick to the fan theory that he was not in control 99% of the time but literally that movie causes such a hellfire path to appear in my wake as i think about it because i know people who don't take it like that and think newt wants what's happening because "haha horny kaiju man" and i wish to scream at the top of my lungs because this is exactly WHY you CANNOT spare ANY EXPENSE to the GOOD, PROPER, INTRICATE directing and writing of a character who is neurodivergent and also ONE OF THE CENTERS OF NOT JUST THE MOVIE YOU'RE WRITING, BUT THE FUCKING MOVIE AFTER THAT. i could go on but i sincerely don't fucking want to, despite how long i've been waiting for someone to willingly hear me out on all of this. all i'll say is if by some miracle they are greenlit for a third film and deknight's working on it and i see ANY sign of a bury your gays end for newt, i'm going to commit the first hate crime against a cishet white male.
to end, the only valid kaiju in that movie was the mega-kaiju, i don't remember the appearance or the names of the three that got through the breaches but the mega-kaiju could kill me and i'd die happy 🥰 beautiful design, that scale comparison when it came face to face with newt? amazing, chills, *chef's kiss* there are exactly two things i liked about uprising and that bitch is one of them.
sorry if this isn't what you wanted, but as i said i am in a bit of a bad mood and have been curled up in bed trying not to think that i'm dying and i've repressed all of this for a couple months now and very few people have actually heard PORTIONS of my frustration so. here it is.
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mvalentine · a year ago
love interests from each choices book?
oh my god i love this question thank you so much anon ❤️
also these kinda got away from me so extremely detailed reasoning for picking each li is under the cut:
blades of light & shadow: mal volari
bloodbound: adrian raines
a courtesan of rome: cassius longinus
desire & decorum: ernest sinclaire
distant shores: edward mortemer
the elementalists: beckett harrington
endless summer: jake mckenzie
the freshmen series: chris powell
hot couture: marco di vincenzo
mother of the year: levi schuler
my two first loves: noah harris
nightbound: nick ryder
open heart: ethan ramsey
perfect match: damien nazario 
platinum: raleigh carrera
queen b: ian kingsley
red carpet diaries: matt rodriguez
ride or die: logan 
the royal masquerade : kayden vescovi
the royal romance: drake walker
rules of engagement: the bartender
save the date: justin mercado
veil of secrets: flynn o’mally
blades of light & shadow: MAL! MAL! MAL! dhsjdkd i guess i’m a narcissist lmao 🤪ok but for real i just really liked the complexity of his character - he had a sad backstory but it didn’t become the central focus of his character and while it definitely affected his personality and how he didn’t let people in, he was always cheerful and didn’t let it hold him back. also, the man’s HILARIOUS and his banter with tyril is EVERYTHING. ok i can go on about mal for days but imma stop- 
bloodbound: .... ok i know @drethanramslay & @colossalpainintheass are gonna bully me for this but I DONT FUCKIN CARE FUCK Y’ALL - white 12 year old lookin’ ass adrian. the reason?! im a sucker for sob stories. and the ‘never her.’ OOOOFFF also there’s this one scene where during doing the nasty ;) he chants i love you i love you i love you and that shit gets me EVERYTIME OK im a sucker for i love yous during sex- OK MOVING ON
a courtesan of rome: OK i dont care what anyone says - im looking at you @beckaroo​ - i romanced CASSIUS ok leave me alone. he’s hot, he’s sweet, he’s a poet, he’s a FUCKING feminist - i LOVE him ok leave me alone. ALSO, ALSO that scene in the baths where he cried into mc’s shoulder?!? im a WHORE for sob stories so stfu - but... I WILL romance antony in my next play through because 1. thanks to @cryinginthebackseat AMAZING AMAZING AMAZING antony fic which EVERYONE SHOULD CHECK OUT but also 2. because the enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers route is just oh-so scrumptious. 
desire and decorum: ernest sinclaire... but honestly are we really surprised at this point?! hot hardass asshole who has a soft spot for only a few select people and the mc becomes the most prominent one of them?!? sign me tf up baby i LIVE for that shit. 
distant shores: obviously i went for the slow slow burn that was edward mortemer. i chose redhead edward because ugh there’s just something about him that’s so sexy but tbh all the edward’s were so hot. i mean, he’s a broody, handsome, noble to a fault guy -  how did you expect me to not fall in love with him?! also that KISS in chapter ten with all the pent up tension and longing?!? OMG it was fuckin’ perfect. also pb robbed me of a happy ending with edward & i am infact, still made about it. 
the elementalists: ok this one’s actually a bit weird- i chose beckett & i think he fit really well with my sorta dorky mc and they made it work and he was super cute. & while i was playing i found him pretty endearing but i don’t know i feel like if he were a real guy i were to date he would annoy the fuck out of me and just in general would not be someone i would date?? i don’t know if that makes any sense lmao but he does have some cute moments especially that one in book 1 where mc gets injured and he’s tending her wounds while scolding her. you can pry that trope from my cold, dead hands.
endless summer: you really need to ask for this one??? it’s obviously jake topgun mckenzie - i mean that boy was the OG bad boy with a heart of gold. & i truly am a sucker for a bad boy with a heart of gold so it was inevitable 😌also i’m a sucker for the nicknames so whenever he called mc princess my heart did a little flippity flop <3 also we don’t talk about that ending in my head it doesn’t exist & my jake and milana are living their happily ever after on some gorgeous island in the maldives. 
the freshmen series: chris. he usually is the sweet type li that i don’t normally go for but oh my god i fell in love with that sweet, sweet man. he was a bit of a wanker in book 1, but after that he was just perfect. maybe if zig had showed up in book 1 i might have chosen him but by the time book 3 came along i couldn’t even thinking of hurting my baby angel chris. the way he runs up to mc and gives her a bear hug after she comes back in book 3??? i couldn’t do it to him after THAT??! also in the first interaction with zig if you choose the ‘i only have eyes for my boyfriend’ option his reaction is so so cute omg 🥺also whenever he feels low and doubts himself i just wanna give him a massive bear hug and never let go (see! it’s the sob story that gets me- every. single. time.) and when he comes to LONDON after the breakup?!? like of course i will take you back baby i love you with every fibre of my being. also he was my first ever choices love interest so i have special spot for him in my heart oops. 
hot couture: for the one month that i had vip, i played hot couture & loved marco. he was just so suave & sexy & of course the semi slow burn kinda got me. also?! the scene after the dirty thirty where he’s staring down at the mc’s face and just has to take a picture because of how peaceful she looks?! this man is perfect. also when he quit his job just for us?! very sexy. very hot. also @beckaroo​ i hope this makes up for my cassius love ;)
mother of the year: levi! this one came as a shock to me because i totally thought i was team mendez but idk- the fact that he was clearly not 100% over his first wife held me back and don’t get me wrong it’s 100% understandable & i’m not faulting him in the slightest for that but it just kind of pushed me in levi’s direction. i mean normally i have my li’s chosen pretty early on but this book really had me conflicted between levi & thomas. but levi! what a man! whenever he calls the daughter ‘rocket’ i swear i fall in love with him a little more. oh & when he says he wants to try for the mc and the daughter?! how can you not love this rockstar??! also i loved helping him when he was struggling as an artist because once again, i love falling for guys i can fix <<3. oh and that DIRTY THIRTY at the end??!? IN THE ELEVATOR?! so fuckin hot oh my god 🥵
my two first loves: noah noah noah all the WAY baby. is this even a question?? do i even need to go into detail??! this guy is literally a dreamboat & the sad backstory gets me everytime i just wanna give him the phattest hug and tell him i choose him and only him if only pb would just LET ME smh. oh also i chose the white noah because idk man those eyes just do something for me but tbh all the noah’s are so so attractive. 
nightbound: nik! i went with cal in the beginning but he was just too sweet for my taste. also the angst with nik?! perfect. and that scene at the carnival when nik says when the case is over they’re over?! the angst is just too good. also, not to sound like a broken record but mc being the only one he finally lets in?! it makes me feel special ok?! oh also i chose the black nik if anyone was wondering. 
open heart: this even a question?? obviously its ethan ramsey. i mean, clearly. i would go on about all the reasons i love this man so much and why he will forever be my number one choices li but that would take us ages and this answer is already long asf so yes i am an ethan ramsey whore let’s move on from it....
perfect match: damien! damien! damien! literally would be my number one li if a certain grumpy doctor didn’t exist but he’s damn close. sarcastic, snarky guy with a heart of gold?! sign me tf up. also, his sex scenes are something else. the ‘get on your knees and i’ll show you’ and his ‘sir’ kink will forever live in my head rent free. also the ANGST with dames?!? when he cries infront of you after that heart wrenching reunion?! oh god i think that was the first time i ever cried while playing choices. ALSO THAT LAST SCENE?! with the heart shaped key?! be still my heart this man is the epitome of perfection.  
platinum: yes yes it is obviously raleigh. if you’ve come this far you obviously know i have a type by now. and raleigh effing carrera fits that type to a t. rebel, heartbreaker, sarcastic asshole with a heart of gold?!? sir, your hand in marriage please. also whenever raleigh says ‘eat the rich’ my heart grows three sizes like yes sir thats my mans. GOD he’s just so sexy. that kiss before mc goes on stage is everything UGH im just thinking of his scenes and every scene is so charged with sexual tension i love it. and the shower sex scene will forever live my mind rent free. forever. it will even follow me into the afterlife and i have absolutely zero issues with that. also that voice?! famous?! ‘can’t keep my hands off of you now & i know you don’t want me stop’?!?? THIS MAN IS EVERYTHING. also his tattoos are extremely sexy thank you and goodbye. 
queen b: the asian ian. tbh i’m like 6-7 chapters behind in qb so i have no idea what’s going on but i remember hating ian’s constant push and pull like i don’t know sometimes it felt genuine but sometimes it just felt like he was using mc for sex whenever he wanted it. also... i hate how quickly their relationship is meant to be taken so seriously?! like they hooked up once at a bar and now all of a sudden he’s so entranced by her and acts like there’s no other woman/man in the world?! like wtf... also ok if carter becomes an li i will probs still romance the professor for the drama and i mean his diamond scenes are pretty hot but yeah irl... this man wouldn’t be my ideal type. 
red carpet diaries: matt rodriguez. ok honestly i first chose matt and then changed to seth cause i kinda loved the idea of the underdog getting the girl. and he was always there for mc through all the shitshow that was book one. but then in book two after mc dealt with such a traumatic event and i payed for the diamond scene where he could stay back, he acted so goofy it just turned me off him completely. like yes i understand humour is how you cope with shitty situations but there’s a time and place. and so i changed back to matt. and OMG do i not regret a single thing. the angst potential for book 1?? i mean i hated how mc immediately forgave him after he didn’t trust her but in the vivid daydreams of my head - SO much delicious angst. so much fighting. so much pining. anyways. book 2 matt?! a literal angel. when he offered mc his room in russia and that scene in the hospital where he was asking for mc and wanted mc to have his room despite him being the one who was BRUTALLY injured?! made me fall in love with that man. also he’s so PRETTTYYY ugh. so pretty. and i really liked helping him with his issues regarding his dad and his confidence even though it got a bit repetitive at times because once again, i’m a fixer apparently 🙃
ride or die: i only played it once and i went for logan because omg he is the sweetest guy who deserves the world. also the angst potential after that big betrayal reveal is so delicious. also... ‘troublemaker’??! gets me every. single. time. i’m an absolute slut for the nicknames. but honestly i wanna play again and try the colt route because yum. might fuck around and restart ROD soon oops. oh also i chose the floppy haired logan because i really wanna run my hands through them. 
the royal masquerade: kayden motherfucking vescovi. omg i love that seemingly emotionless man. he really is the epitome of hard on the outside, soft on the inside. and he’s so loyal?! and so protective?! and so utterly sexy?! (btw i chose the beardless kayden) also i love the idea of mc being one of the first people he ever falls for but he doesn’t think he can be with her cause of hunter and his responsibilities but then she chooses him over everyone and he says fuck it and for the first time in his life lets his guard down and ugh now im rambling but they’re just too cute ok?! 🥺also his DIAMOND scenes?!? that man is a dom through and through and i have 0 complaints. tie me up and throw me around like a rag doll, sir. 
the royal romance: drake walker. omg ok so i know alot of people dont like him but i love this man ok?! the ANGST with him thinking he’s not good enough is just SO good. SO SO SO good. like no baby you are good enough you are my entire world please let me love you and hold you and give you the entire world. ok yeah im down but basically i love my whiskey drinking snarky talking man ok?! also i’m sorry but liam is just WAY too sweet for my taste and his immediate attraction towards mc just turned me off him completely. idk i just hate li’s who fall so hard, so fast and i might be a hypocrite cause i chose chris and matt who fall into the exact same trope but oh well sue me i guess. 
rules of engagement: the bartender... cause well...i’m a sucker for the trope where the underdog gets the girl <33 honestly tho that book wasn’t all that memorable so i don’t really care. but also the businessman was kinda boring and leo just didn’t seem to have his shit together like, at all plus idk he seemed kinda spoilt tbh. oh! and the party sister was of course set up with blake because i am a whore for the ‘grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one’ trope but also i love how the sister genuinely grows as a person and blake sees that respects her as a person before falling for her and honestly i was way more invested in her love life than my own mc’s lmao. 
save the date: ...justin. sue me. but he’s not THAT bad. i mean sure he’s a bit of a dickhead of some of the things he says are uncalled for but ugh. he’s so hot. also that kiss me scene after the fight was so good. so sexy. very nice. malvika approved. simon is just WAYYYY to sweet for me like i physically just can’t. also i mean i don’t normally romance woman but even if i did lindsay would just be too much of a shy/goody two shoes for me to be interested in you know?! also, minus the lips, justin was PRETTY gosh darn hot. and that last 30 scene??!?! honestly one of the best 30 scenes i’ve read everyone should check that playthrough on youtube because HOT DAMN. 
veil of secrets: FLYNN. AKA DAMON SALVATORE. because the resemblance is genuinely uncanny. and ok while he’s presented as this dark brooding bad boy he’s really just a sweet and caring and loving guy who just puts on this persona and i love how he finds his person in the mc. they’re relationship slowly builds from mutual trust and respect when they are working on the case and i think thats so beautiful. and you bet your ass i chose the option to stay with him and honestly his reaction was worth the thirty diamonds and more. these two lovebirds truly belong together and i love them so much. 
ok if you read this far first of all, what the fuck??!!? second of all, i love you with my whole entire heart thank you for putting up with my bullshit ❤️
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tinyarmedtrex · 2 years ago
You're doing a part 2 for the 'you're adorable' thing, aren't you? Because if not I'm gonna...
Oh man you guys I got a LOT of requests for part 2. Hopefully it lives up to all your hopes and dreams.
Read part 1 here
Eddie’s plan had been to avoid Richie, to never speak to him again and maybe hide in empty rooms if he saw Richie approaching him.
It was a good plan, a great plan even, at least until Eddie opened his door the next morning to find Richie waiting in the hall.
“We need to talk.” He said, scrambling to his feet. He looked like he’d been waiting there all night. A traitorous part of Eddie found that incredibly enduring. 
“I disagree.” Eddie said, trying to move past him but Richie was already in his room, blocking the door.
“Five minutes. Please. Let me explain. Then I’ll leave, I’ll leave you alone.” 
“Three.” Eddie countered, crossing his arms. Richie bobbed his head eagerly and Eddie started the timer on his watch.
“Shit you’re serious- okay- wow I suck under pressure. I mean not in the bedroom but just in real life- ha-”
Eddie didn't respond, waiting for Richie to say something of substance.
“Okay, okay listen. Last night, what you heard- it’s not what it sounds like.”
“Oh so there wasn’t a bet involving me? And you didn’t invite me to the party based on it?” He asked, not bothering to keep the contempt from his voice.
“Ok maybe it’s sorta what it sounds like.” Eddie huffed and Richie spread his hands in front of him, the picture of innocence. “But that not why I asked you! Jake- my ex- he thought I wasn’t over him which was- fucking something else, but that’s another story- so he bet me that I wouldn’t ask someone else to a party.  I accepted, I wanted him off my fucking back, and he picked you.”
“But he didn’t know-” Richie took a step towards him and Eddie moved back, shaking his head. “He didn’t know that I liked you. It was the push I needed. Eds, I didn’t ask you just because of a bet.”
“Oh great, it was only partly because of a bet. I feel much better.” None of this was a relief to Eddie. Richie was telling him that he was still hung up on his ex and that he’d asked Eddie out because he was essentially dared to.
“No Eds, please. I’ll make it up to you. Let me take you out on a date. No bets, no other people, nothing.”
Richie was giving him puppy dog eyes and Eddie wanted to agree. He wanted to run into Richie’s arms and forgive him. It would have been so much easier.
But Eddie wasn’t the forgiving type. 
He shook his head, wrapping his arms around himself. “You made me feel so small Richie, so worthless. I don’t know if I can forgive you.”
They stared at each other, Richie’s mouth opening and closing, until Eddie’s watch beeped. 
“You should leave.” Eddie mumbled, eyes dropping to the floor. He didn’t look up as Richie moved past him, skirting around Eddie so they didn’t touch.
After that Richie was true to his word. He left Eddie alone. It made Bio weird, the two of them not talking. Occasionally, one would forget- Richie would make a flirty comment or Eddie would accidentally touch him and they’d both look away, avoiding the other for the rest of class. It made Eddie’s stomach lurch every time, thinking about what might have been.
He tried not to notice how Richie was spending time with his ex again- if Jake even was his ex anymore. Eddie had told Richie he wasn’t interested, it wasn’t his business.
It didn’t stop him from burning with jealousy.
“You boys will need some extra credit.” Their professor said, handing back their latest lab. “I don’t understand, you were two of my best students.” 
Eddie groaned as he looked at their grade. A D. He needed to pass this class. Next to him Richie looked just as upset. 
Eddie knew exactly what had happened. It was hard to work with a lab partner that you couldn’t look at and barely talked to. He was surprised they hadn’t failed.
“Here,” She continued, handing them another piece of paper. “Find a time to redo the lab and, if you do better we can take that grade.”
“Thank you,” both mumbled as she moved on.
“I can do today.” Eddie said, staring at their D. He needed a better grade. If that meant working with Richie so be it.
“Works for me.” 
A few hours later Eddie was setting up for their experiment, trying to ignore how nervous he was about being alone with Richie. Before Eddie would have been secretly thrilled but now he was dreading it.
“Shoulda known you’d be early.” Richie said, throwing down his bag. “You seem like the prompt type.” Eddie thought that he sounded nervous too which made him feel a tiny bit better. At least he wasn’t the only one.
“Here,” Eddie pointed to the directions. “We can divide up most of this and get out of here quickly.” 
Richie nodded, wordlessly starting to work on his piece. It was weird, being with a silent Richie. Eddie tried to ignore it has he started on his own section, gathering what he needed for the experiment.
Eddie was turning on the burner, about to add a something to the beaker when Richie suddenly grabbed his hand.
“What the hell!” Eddie exclaimed, turning to glare at him.  He was about to go off until Richie turned the container Eddie had grabbed so the label faced him.
“You were gonna blow us up.” Richie said. Eddie paled, he’d grabbed the wrong thing, nearly putting something highly explosive in the beaker. 
“Thanks.” Eddie said. Richie hadn’t let go of him, instead he’d only moved closer.
“Eds, listen.” Richie started, his fingers curling comfortably around Eddie’s wrist. He was sure that Richie could feel his increased heart rate. 
“Don’t.” Eddie yanked his hand back. “Richie, please don’t.” He didn’t want to hear what Richie had to say, even if he’d imagined having the conversation a dozen times.
Richie deflated again, going back to his section. Eddie almost wished he didn’t give up so easily but that was one of the reasons he liked Richie, he respected what Eddie asked, even if he obviously didn’t want to. They worked quietly again and several times Eddie started to speak, wanting to ask Richie what he had been about to say, but each time he stopped himself.
A few minutes later Eddie was startled by a loud yelp. He looked over to see Richie holding his finger, blood dripping down it. Richie had cut himself with a scalpel.
“Don’t move.” Eddie leapt out of his seat, grabbing the first aid kit and returning to Richie. “Here, hold the gauze on and I’ll bandage it.”
“Thanks Doctor K.” Richie said, accepting the gauze. “Always knew you could patch me up.”
Eddie felt Richie’s eyes on him and knew he was blushing. “Well I’m sure Jake doesn’t want you getting hurt.” He forced himself to say it, to remember that Richie wasn’t his.
Richie’s response sounded confused. “I don’t think he cares.”
Eddie opened the band aid, taking Richie’s hand and wrapping it around his finger. “He’s not a very good boyfriend then.” He hated how bitter he sounded. This had been his choice but right then it felt like he’d made the wrong one.
“Eds he’s not-” Richie paused then continued. “I’m not seeing anyone. I sorta fucked up with the guy I like and I - haven’t recovered.” 
Eddie’s hand was still over Richie’s and he glanced up at the other man. Richie gave an apologetic shrug. 
“I know, I know. I said I’d leave you alone I just- you’re hard to get over Eds. I messed up and I’m sorry but I can’t just stop liking you like that.” He snapped his fingers, looking sad. “I wish I could, it’d be easier for both of us.”
Eddie thought for a second, staring at Richie and then their hands. Eddie liked how his hand looked over Richie’s. He liked how Richie made him feel, his smile, his jokes. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure why he was resisting so much.
So he did the only thing that made sense. He leaned in and kissed Richie’s knuckles, the barest brush of his lips against the skin. When he leaned back Richie was frozen, looking alarmed.
“I’m - I’m getting mixed signals here Eds.” 
Eddie swallowed down the urge to run away, to leave and never explain himself. “I’m sorry too, I guess. I was really fucking hurt and I didn’t give you a fair shot.”
“Are you still upset?” Richie asked, still seeming a little skeptical. Eddie didn’t blame him.
“A little.” He admitted. “But I like you. And I don’t want to give up what we could have to stay angry over something like that.” 
“Are you sure?”
Eddie nodded, squeezing Richie’s hands. “If you still want to?”
“More than anything.” Richie said, face breaking into a grin. “I’m gonna woo the fuck out of you Eds, just you wait.”
He laughed, feeling the tightness in his chest ease. “We need to finish this lab first. I can’t afford to fail this class.”
“That’s my Eds, always thinking about the future.” Richie said, swiveling back to the table. They completed the lab in record time, even with both of them stealing glances at the other. Then they went out for what Eddie hoped was the first of many dates.
@xandertheundead @spastuetheobsessedphylosopher @chaotickaspbrak​ @wheezyeds​  @constantreaderfool​ @aizeninlefox​ @purplepoisonedgem​  @queen-sock  @pink-psychic @bowersgangvslosersclub​ @mrs-vh​ @jem-carstairs-is-perfection​  @reddie-to-cryy​ @moonlightrichie​  @eduardoandale​ @ripeddiekaspbrak​ @anellope​ @inthebreadbinwrites @sparklingrainbowdragon​ @madi-personal @K-froggit @lifesucksheres20bucks​ @appojoos​ @upsidedownlosers​ @thorn-harvester-ven​ @eddiefuckinkaspbrak​  @sighharrington @littleturtle95 @dcgeekgirl24 @toziersarcade
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ziracona · a year ago
I reread your bit about rin in the last chapter and oh my god im crying. You did my girl justice. I'm so proud of her and i'm glad she had fun. I love the thought that she's helping him in little ways. ;') and oh my god. i love the myers siblings. Do you mind if I ask for hcs? because oooohhhmygod. need more
Awww thank you so much! I really liked the Adam-Rin segment too. I wanted to talk about Rin, but being an Onryo made it so I just couldn’t feasibly in the bulk of the story. Really glad I still got to give her her moment in the sun. : ) Adam’s such a great dude too, and I’m so happy he found meaning the way he did and keeps up such an active and deep relationship with someone who’s passed on. It’s not an easy thing to do, but I think it’s kind, and meaningful. And sure! I’m not sure if you mean Laurie and Mikey or Judith too since I got a few Judith asks yesterday, but ima assume this is ILM related and you’re looking for post-fic Laurie & Michael (sorry if that’s not the intended ask TuT). I did more but this is already a lot so I didn’t post them all haha. Here you go!
Laurie would be very unlikely to make the first move in a romantic relationship. She’s so used to prioritising survival, even when she’s okay again her brain is always, “keep homeostasis” as her directive, and adding a relationship does not fall under that listing. That said, she definitely still develops feelings, and would want things to happen. But I think it would be slow. I think with Laurie, she’d be going to lunches and having long talks and drinks and staying up and falling asleep on the couch together, in and out like each others’ presence belongs in their respective homes, come to each other for support and with hard days and for life advice, go to the theatre together and let them buy her a drink like they always do without being asked, brought back a nice gift from a trip, she waits up for them to get home to greet them, for like 1-3 years solid before one day they just take her hand and kind of smile and she realises she’s been in a relationship for two years and they just never said it, and maybe they won’t now, maybe not for another two years, but they know it, and she’s so happy.
Michael never cuts his hair short, but does not mind Laurie making him let her give him ponytails when they’re working on something, because it does get in his face.
Laurie softballs Michael for a while, since, well, she’s trying to help him reintegrate into society as a human being after having had a childhood that was basically just a 15 year stretch of psychological trauma, and being kind and supportive is a must. But after a few years, she’s gotten much more comfortable and sibling-ish in her interactions. She’ll definitely still be serious and supportive if anything happens and he needs it, but she’ll also give him shit for eating her food or not getting up off the bed she’s trying to make. He enjoys annoying her and does it for fun. Will hold eye contact and eat the cupcake she was saving just to watch her flip, like a cat batting an orange off a counter (or, you know, a sibling who’s feeling /that/ vibe rn.)
Laurie is 99% of Michael’s impulse control. If he and Quentin do something together without her, it /will/ be a disaster, because where Laurie inflicts neutral levels of chaos on the group w her lawful, Michael will almost instantaneously get Quentin to swap from lawful to chaos if she’s not there. They will both be fine, but there /will/ be something on fire when she gets back.
Laurie, walking into the house and seeing then throwing objects into a burning wastebasket in the living room: I don’t like what I’m seeing. Bring me up to speed.
Quentin: So, we maybe have illegally destroyed a car—but it’s okay! We had a good reason! Plus, we destroyed the evidence. Let me explain. So, this guy-
Laurie: :/
Michael: *gives her a ‘what’s your problem?’ gesture*
Michael and Laurie physically fight for nostalgia’s sake sometimes (for fun-get exasperated and performatively MMA. They would not actually injure each other).
One time, Laurie and Michael were walking home together from a movie and a guy drove by and whistled at Laurie and said something vulgar, and Michael stepped into the road and smashed the front of his car with his foot. It was beautiful. They did have to flee the scene but Laurie was /gleeful/. The dude in the car saw his gd life flash before his eyes and rethought some life choices.
It is a long time before Michael is willing to take any kind of meds for his psychosis (very understandably), but when Quentin eventually graduates Med school, six or so years later (bless u Jake for forging him some credits), he is willing to try a few given by him. It is not a good or easy couple of months, but he does it.
Michael gets along surprisingly well with the survivors. Most of them are pretty intimidated, but he’s genuinely chill, and they’ve been through weirder shit so 🤷🏻‍♀️ it’s like “Welp. This might as well happen.” and accept him in. Meg is a big thot. She’s into Susie and would never cheat and Susie knows this, but Meg will still flirt like crazy with Michael bc it’s her personality, and Michael, who’s never had this ever happen, is /beyond/ confused. Every time she says something stupid like, “Damn you’re tall. If I wasn’t a married woman, I’d climb you like a jungle gym.” He gives her the exact look Sam gives Gollum when he’s dissing potatoes in lotr.
Since she knew his and his family’s whole names and his wife’s face, Laurie tracks down Sujan’s family and tells them everything she can about what happened and how good he was, and what a difference the first person in the realm who was kind to her made.
Michael really enjoys traveling. He’s been cooped up his whole life. Spent 15 years in one little white room, and then 40 in reproductions of Haddonfield in the realm. Really, except for his solo journey from Wisconsin to home, he’s never left the state of Illinois. He goes with the survivor squad on their group trips, once he’s comfortable enough, and is consistently amazed. He’s not a very visibly emotive person, and can’t physically be bc of his psychosis symptoms, but his eyes will get big seeing the northern lights from a platform, and he’ll grab Laurie or Quentin’s wrist & point to make sure they’re seeing it too, and Laurie has never been so happy. After his first trip, he very much looks forward to the annual event.
Dr. Loomis is the only thing Michael as an adult has ever feared. (Obviously all humans feel temporary fear, like if a car comes at you or someone with a gun. But past instantaneous shock-fear, I don’t think Michael has ever been afraid of anyone else). This is based off of canon, because to me Michael reads as scared of him, especially in Halloween 2. He pauses and then retreats from Loomis in the first film, and when he sees Loomis running down streets looking for him in 2, he hides (I actually really love the Michael pov in Halloween 2 in the open. It was very humanising). Then, at the end of 2, when he’s blind and Laurie and Loomis have filled the room with ether, and Loomis tells him it’s over, he stops trying to find and kill Loomis and freezes. I genuinely think because he was scared of Loomis and has been for years (after that treatment constantly in isolation as a child, how could he not be?) and has known since he was 6 Loomis wants to kill him, so when he basically says “I’m about to kill you,” he believes him and it scares him. It’s the axe that’s been waiting to drop since he was a kid.
Laurie goes to cons with Nea, Quentin, & Min occasionally, and has dressed up as all three OG Star Wars protagonists like the lovely huge nerd she is. Has also made Michael sit down and watch all the movies w her.
Michael and Laurie go visit Judith a lot. They’ll pack a picnic lunch and talk with her and about her at her grave. It was very hard the first time they went there, especially for Michael, but after a while, it helps. It’s a way to deal with what was done in the past that makes it seem surmountable. It also helps to deal with the loss of someone they both cared for. When they go, Laurie always gets Michael to tell her something about her older sister she hast heard yet. David tracks down an old high school album from 1963, and is able to get three pictures of Judith colorised and they’re able to have a nice full-color photo of her to hang up in the house.
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ashlaenikoal · 2 years ago
Spellbound (Mysterio x Reader)
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Disclaimer: this is probably going to age poorly, babes. I wrote this on 5/15/19, I’m not clairvoyant, and I have no idea how Quentin Beck/Mysterio is going to be characterized in FFH. I’ll be wig-snatched if he somehow isn’t the twist villain  We don’t even know if he’s lying about the multiverse; unlikely, but you never know. Please don’t come back in 2 months commenting how wrong I was; trust me, I’ll know.
I’m just in love with the idea of Mysterio being Sorcerer Supreme in his universe. and I’ve been in love with Jake Gyllenhaal since I was 13. If nothing else, this is a fun AU for you to enjoy. I might have had Heart’s ‘Magic Man’ playing on repeat while writing this.
Description: Quentin Beck/Mysterio x Fem!Reader
Rating: General audiences. Slow-burn fluff.
Warnings: none.
Setting: Pre-movie/AU
Word count: 1,384
Gif credit: user winterswake
Imagine being the apprentice of the great Sorcerer Supreme, Quentin Beck, and while he’s teaching you a new spell, you start to sense there’s something more to his interest in you.
“Focus,” you hear your mentor say, “Remember your technique.” He stands a few feet in front of you, his arms crossed as he watches you try to conjure the defense spell.
You twist your hands a bit more, the luminous, yellow energy sparking at your finger tips. You’d read the text a dozen times and practiced it twice as much; you wouldn’t be bested by such a simple spell. Attempting to clearing your mind, you shut your eyes and continue the motions. 
“Excellent.” he says, “Very good.” 
Opening your eyes, you see the discs of light are fully formed, hovering at the end of your reach.
“I did it.” You exhale, a smile spreading across your face. The golden light follows your movement as you slowly wave your hands in front of you.
“I knew you could.” He says, clapping thrice as he steps forward, “You learned that spell quicker than any other student I’ve shown.”
“All thanks to your teaching.” You counter, releasing the spell, watching the sparks fade away into the air. “Not everyone can say they learned from the great and powerful Mysterio.”
“Not every one is like you.” He says, coming to stand in front of you, “And I’ve told you a thousand times, it’s Quentin.” 
“Yes, Master Beck.” you say, avoiding his gaze as you remove your sling ring.
“Quentin.” He repeats, lifting your hand and sling ring up, “We’re not done yet. You’re ready for Astral Projection.”
You look to him, your mouth agape, “Master Karindu said I needed to study more before I tried that.”
“You don’t master the mystic arts by only reading dusty scrolls. You have to hone your knowledge.” He insists, stepping backward into the center of the dojo. “Only you get to define your limits.”
You pause, thoroughly evaluating his words. It had only been three months since you’d been ‘found’ by the sorcerers of the London Sanctum. They’d given you a home, something you’d never really had before, and you were determined to repay their kindness by becoming the best sorcerer you could. Hours of pouring over ancient texts and training with the masters had made you an acceptable student; portals and basic defense spells were almost no challenge, and you were even becoming skilled at practicing magic inside the Mirror Dimension on your own. Yet nothing could have prepared you for when the Sorcerer Supreme offered to take you under his tutelage. You were told by others that it was an opportunity presented to only a handful before you, and it did not take long to see why he was so revered. Magic came to him like breathing, and there seemed to be no limit to the number incantations he knew. You’d be lying if you said time spent in his company was not also enchanting. 
“Come on, Y/N,” he waved you closer, “I won’t let you fall.”
Swallowing back your fear, you go to join him on the mat. 
“Now, I will push you to the Astral Plane, and then I’ll show you how to do it to me.” He says, meeting your eyes with a calm assurance. “Trust me.”
“I do.” You reply, holding his focused stare. 
In one swift motion, he grabs your right hand, grasps your forearm, and plunges his hand to your collarbone. You wince, expecting pain, but you don’t feel anything. A heartbeat later, you realize why: you are not inside your body. A gasp escapes your lips as you watch your physical form fall slowly backward from the jolt, kept from falling to the floor only by Quentin’s grip. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. It’s almost as if time itself was suspended, and you were only a mere spectator. 
“The ancient texts don’t do this justice...” you thought, peering down at your translucent, ghost-like form.
Before you can take another breath, a tremendous force pulls you forward, violently sending you back into your body. 
“Tada.” Quentin says in a sing-song voice, still holding onto your arm to keep you steady.
“That was...” you pant, trying to get your bearings as you survey your surroundings.
“An out of body experience?” He suggests teasingly, chuckling as you give him a knowing look.
“Something like that.” you reply, trying and failing not to give into laughter.
“Ready to try it?” He asks, eager for the next step.
“As I’ll ever be.” You answer, feeling your stomach turn with anxiety. 
“Concentrate on what you want to happen. Picture it in your mind. Channel your strength toward the motion, turn your thought into power.” He instructs, carefully taking your arm and mimicking the lunging motion. “Hit me here.”
Your cheeks rush with heat as he brings your hand to rest on his chest. For a moment, you look up to his bright blue eyes, and look away just as quickly as he releases his hold. He clears his throat as you shrink back a bit.
“I apologize in advance if I hurt you.” You joke, an effort to break the tension.
“Don’t worry.” He responds, smirking as he secures his footing, arms at his side. 
Taking a deep breath, you run through his directions in your mind, trying to picture the next moment. And you lunge.
Quentin stumbles back, almost tumbling off his feet.
Horror courses through you, realizing all you did was punch him in the chest really hard. 
“I am so, so sorry, Quentin” You say through your hands, which are clasped tightly over your mouth from the complete embarrassment.
“Ow.” he wheezes, shaking his head against the disorientation. “Maybe take off the sling ring this time...”
Your eyes go wide, seeing the metal still on your fingers. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I did that. I’m so sorry!” 
"You’re even stronger than I thought.” He exhales, standing to his full height once more. “That’s alright. That’s good. Try again.”
“No! Are you kidding? I’m obviously not ready.” You deny, sliding off the ring and clenching it in your fist.
“You are ready. You’re distracted by your doubt. I know. I was too.” He insists, his tone becoming serious, “You’ve conjured every spell I’ve given you. You’ve not just learned about magic, but understood it quicker than anyone else has...just like I did.” 
His last words fully captured your attention, at last allowing yourself to meet his gaze.
“You, Y/N, are my greatest student. And perhaps, even my equal.” 
Equal? With the Sorcerer Supreme? You could barely process the thought, but you didn’t have the time, because in the next moment his hands were on your shoulders, and your heart was in your throat again.
“Prove me right.” He challenges, sincerity in his voice.
An urgency rises up inside you, and you act on it. 
Pulling back, throwing your weight into the thrust, you slam your palm to his chest. A flash of energy pulses from your hand, followed by Quentin going limp, his Astral Form pushed from his body. 
Your excitement, however, is interrupted by gravity. In a panic, you reach out to grab him, but your balance is compromised from the maneuver.
“Crap!” You shriek as you topple forward.
“Woah!” Quentin joins in, unfortunately reentering his physical form in freefall, the second before impact with the floor.  
A moment of dizziness passes before you notice where you landed. You raise your head, which is only inches from your mentor’s, as you lie dumbfounded on top of him. 
“’d I do?” you ask, attempting to diffuse the awkward situation.
“Told you.” He says slyly, pride in his expression. 
Your anxiety returns, telling you to get up. Yet this time, staring into the alluring wizard’s eyes, you decide to follow your instincts a second time.
You lean in, gently pressing your lips to his. To your relief, Quentin kisses you back, running one of his hands through your hair and the other across your back to hold you closer. Time seemed to be suspended once more.
After what feels like an eternity, you raise your head and gaze down on him.
“Now that was magic.” He grins, tenderly stroking your cheek.
You lean into his touch, knowing your training with the Sorcerer Supreme was going to be quite different from now on.
Perhaps doubt hadn’t been the only thing distracting you after all.
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