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tender-rosiey · 2 years

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𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 | gojo x f!reader

| pt 2 | - | pt 3 | — [SERIES MASTERLIST]

ᴀ/ɴ: by popular demand, a part two has been delivered and I am thinking of making a part three, but who knows; it does depend on y’all in the end <3 I had fun with this honestly 👁🫦👁

safe to say, after your last interaction with gojo: the two of you didn’t talk. you were happy with that, so happy. you were finally freed from the shackles of that suffocating marriage, and you thank god that you didn’t go through with the ceremony.

your hand felt a lot lighter too. now, there was nothing holding you back from thriving and making the most out of everything. consequently, after multiple successful missions, the higher-ups have decided to assign you a mission that was rather high in level.

you had faith in yourself, considering the information provided about the curse. you were also told that you will be with multiple other sorcerers so things can go smoother. you didn’t object, considering how even if paired up with someone: it would never be gojo.

you were in kyoto, and with him being in tokyo, it was quite impossible. not to mention, that almost everyone knows the past you two have had.

the mission was going rather comfortably, and easily. the curse’s traces have been found and your group had followed it and found it. now, what’s left is to exorcise it. should be easy, right? you did read that its abilities can be nullified by yours and that overpowering it was guaranteed.

wrong, so wrong. those fuckers mixed up papers and now you were facing a curse that quite literally is your natural enemy. you were a nice person, never liking to cause people harm; however, considering your situation, no one would blame you for cursing those geezers to the moon and back.

holding onto the hope of help coming before you were dealt with was rather naïve in your line of work, though you only wish it will actually happen. as you run to take cover, you hear a loud gruesome screech and sounds of smashing and breaking. after that, your ears are met with nothing but silence.

“I never thought that you would be able to deal damage to that, since you are pretty weak and it’s your natural enemy and all, you know.”

of all people, the person you dreaded the most, someone whose voice became like chalk being dragged roughly across a board to you, and someone you have obviously come to hate.

“are you done with your inner monologue?” he rubs his neck, and cracks it, “egoistical people are so tiring, ugh.”

you mumble, “tell yourself that.”

“I heard that.”

“good, now out of my sight,” you stand up, completely forgetting why you were taking cover; you had rather—noticeable injuries. gojo eyed your figure up and down.

he takes a hold of your wrist, “you can’t move like that,” you quirk your eyebrow at him, and walk a few steps proving him wrong. “y/n, you know what I mean,” he sighs. for some reason, he can’t handle when you, out of everyone else who has given him attitude, do so.

he couldn’t blame you though, after his realization he stopped, neither of you were to blame for the engagement or planned marriage. both of you didn’t want it, yet he went on with being an asshole and hurt and disrespected you.

“leave me alone, gojo; i am sure someone else will come and help me like a gentleman,” you say leaning onto a wall.

the man in question just ruffles his hair, “well, too bad, sweetheart. I am the only person and gentleman you will be seeing for quite sometime,” he announces while leaning on the wall opposite to yours.

you slowly lift your head up, tilting to the side, “what do you mean?”

a grin makes into gojo’s face and he takes a few steps towards you before leaning down, “they told you that you were going to be partnered with someone for the upcoming 2 months, right?”

you refused to believe it, no way, absolutely no way, “OVER MY FUCKING DEAD BODY!”

“woah, calm down, sugar; it wasn’t my choice either,” he proclaimed, “its their way of saying: both of you should start getting along.”

you take a sharp breath in before letting it out, “with all the respect I can nitpick,”

“rude.”

“shut up; gojo, I can’t physically nor mentally work with you,” you conclude.

silence engulfs the atmosphere for a moment, “I figured as much, still hate me?”

“very much so.”

“lovely.”

he puts his hand on his chin, to emphasize that he is in his “thinking” state, which never ends well. “so how about—“

“no.”

“sweetie, didn’t anyone teach you to not interrupt someone when they are talking?” he asks and you only roll your eyes, letting him continue, “how about you let me make everything up to you now? for the two coming months, I will prove to you that I am worth your trust, sounds good?”

“suggestion denied.”

he huffs, “thought so,” a pout settles onto his glossy lips, wait glossy? moving on, he speaks again, with a rather more serious tone, “I know I was an asshole, a bitch, and frankly an awful man.”

“still could be, but okay.”

“can you just listen to me until the end?” he retorts and resumes “I want to make up for everything I have done; if I can’t make you at least like me as friend then I don’t want to be someone your unfiltered hatred is direct to.”

you wait a moment, in case he wants to say something, but when met with silence, you answer “why now? and do you think that money will just make all what happened disappear?”

he places his hand on your shoulder, “I am not trying to win you over by money or gifts; I never thought of you like that. I know you are more than I used to give you credit for. you are weak, but you try.”

you punch him in the stomach, and you find that his infinity isn’t on, but he doesn’t as much as flinch, “y/n, I don’t want to be the person that your eyes burn with hatred when they see them. if I can’t be someone who you can care about then let it be neutral.”

you cross your arms, “you didn’t answer my question: why now?”

he takes a deep breath, “I thought about everything that happened between us; I know you think that I never paid attention to you, but I did. to the point, I though I was going crazy. before you interrupt, yes I was seeing other women, but for some reason you still weren’t out of my mind.”

“liar,” you sneer, “you told me that I was the last thing on your mind. you always voiced it out too. stop lying, haven’t you done enough already?”

he sighs, hand making its way to your waist; he knows he is risking it, but his heart has decided for a while before his mind did: he wanted you. he hugs you, his touch barely there, “let me try at least; try waiting for me a bit. I swear that I will make it worth it.”

maybe yes, his mind was distracted, but at the end, the person who he kept thinking about in his dreams was you.

before you could protest and drop kick him like a child, he continues, “I know; I have been awful to you.” he pulls back and loudly says with his hand on his forehead, dramatic antics coming back “would you please grace me with your forgiveness and give me a chance to fix things, oh dear gorgeous y/n?”

his other hand is extended to you, you were contemplating whether to bite it or not, but you were thinking, maybe it won’t hurt to see what he will do. if no progress can be seen with him, then at least you would be spoiled, and who would say no that?

the moment your hand makes contact with his, he beams, before kissing it gently and running off like a child in a sugar rush, “wait when it strikes 4pm tomorrow! we have a long day!”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-2 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @bakugossanity @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @fiona782 @kisakitwister

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eleni-cherie · 1 year

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among thieves ✨ || bts • pjm

- chapter 1.1

"what even am I to you? your rival, your lover, an obstacle or am I supposed to be your coffin?"

about two thieves who can't live with nor without each other. and a joint past that comes back to threaten them.

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, very flirty jimin, friends/rivals/exes to lovers (it's complicated, ok?!) f2l e2l ex2l all members play a role in this story!

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

»»»

After breaking into the evidence storage and finding his gun, Jimin found the staircase leading upstairs to the main building. He ensured no one was close by while peeking through the door.

If he remembered correctly from the previous times he had been there, there should be a visitor's lavatory on ground level. And that close to the staircase.

However, he stopped in his tracks and pressed himself against the wall when hearing voices coming from a corridor further away, footsteps echoing on the linoleum ground shortly before dying down. He exhaled relieved and reached the lavatory. Already spotting the small window up high. Too high for normal people but not for him. It wasn't any porblem to climb up the stalls and bent enough to reach the small margin and open it. He could literally climb on anything like a monkey.

He crawled through it, the frame just wide enough for him to fit. And since it was ground level, it wasn't too difficult to jump down.

Unfortunately, none other than Agent Blake turned around the building's corner just in that moment. Stopping in her tracks when seeing Jimin. Both staring at each other bewildered.

"Park Jimin, you're under arr-"

Before she could even finish her sentence and draw out her gun, he had already rushed behind her. Holding her arms behind her back and spreading her legs with his, just in case she thought about kicking him where it hurt, making it impossible for her to move.

"Nah, nah, love," he smirked, making her scoff.

"I'm Agent Blake, for you."

"Say, Agent Blake, can't remember anyone else smelling so lovely like you. Is that parfume?"

Skylar's lips parted, that comment coming out of nowhere took her off-guard. "Wh-"

"Let me guess," Jimin chuckled then from behind, "You're into your little colleague, agent Jeon, right?"

She frowned about this random conclusion. "T-that'd be highly unprofessional," she defended herself, huffing loudly.

"Aw, c'mon, you can tell me.."

The woman pursed her lips, feeling her cheeks flushing. She breathed in deeply then. Gathering all her energy. "Agent in danger! Hel-!" Her mouth got quickly covered by one of his hands. "Shhh, don't be so mean," he whined, "You know you ain't in danger. Don't get me in trouble just because I'm exposing your crush on the little guy."

"He isn't a little guy," she mumbled against his hand, "He could beat your ass with no trouble."

Jimin laughed out at this, amused about him having hit a nerve. As always. Analysing people and finding out their weaknesses was part of the job after all. "Aw, sorry for offending your crush."

"He isn't my crush!"

He grinned, knowing she couldn't see him. "Whatever you say, love." Before she could retort anything else or attempt escaping, he pinched the spot between her neck and shoulder.

And Skylar instantly succumbed, her body subsiding in his arms. "She's heavier than she looks," he mumbled and carefully sat her down. Leaning her unconscious body against the wall.

He grabbed her phone out of her jacket then and started running to the parking lot. Breaking into one of the few cars when hearing sirens going off inside the building.

"Well, those were exactly ten minutes," he said, looking at his watch, "Punctual as always, pops. But I'm not dumb." He took the little tracker from the coat's pocket that Seokjin thought he hadn't noticed him placing there, crushing it with his heal and got inside. Hot-wiring the car to get the motor to jump start instantly.

He floored the gas pedal and left, rushing down the streets of Seoul to the direction of an old hideout. On the way, he planned to stop in an alley and leave the car, as the cops would easily find the car tag from security footage, and change into a different one.

While overtaking another car he took Skylar's phone out of the pocket and started scrolling through her contacts. Pressing on one of them.

As the dial tone started ringing, he coughed. Preparing his voice while he waited for the other person to pick up.

"Hello? Skylar?"

"Jungkookie, please help me!" Jimin said panicked in Skylar's voice. Immitating her perfectly. Even adding a pleading tone, to make it more believable.

"S-Skylar? Where are you?"

"At the east side of the building. Please, hurry." And with that he hung up. Tossing the phone out of the window.

"Thank me later, love."

»»»

3 minutes earlier

"Is everything alright? How did this happen?"Jungkook was looking with worried eyes at his supervisor. "Did he fake the amnesia after all?"

Seokjin shook his head, rubbing his wrists that were finally freed from the handcuffs.

"Sir, I-"

"It's alright," Seokjin waved off the guard who had failed to notice Jimin. He brushed past him and headed upstairs, leaving the cellblocks.

"I don't think he faked the amnesia part," he answered Jungkook who was trailing behind him. "He said someone gave him a pill and messed with his mind, ordering him to eliminate Valentine."

"Makes sense.. he'd never do this on his own.." the younger agent mumbled, earning an arched brow from Seokjin. "I-I mean, for all we know it'd be quite atypical of him."

"True," the older guy nodded and headed to his desk.

"And did he say who it was? The one ordering him to eliminate Arabella?"

"He didn't say that."

Seokjin's short replies only rose more questions in Jungkook's head. And Seokjin could tell by the deep crease betweem Jungkook's brows. "But why do they want him to kill her?"

Pursing his lips, Seokjin had to suppress a chuckle. "Not sure. He only said she had been part of them."

Jungkook nodded, still not entirely satisfied. Rubbing his forehead, his eyes fell on the whiteboard next to their desks. "Who's 'owl inc'?"

Seokjin hummed, glancing up from the papers in front of him confused. "Never heard of it. Why?"

"Because someone wrote it here." Jungkook pointed with his finger on the bulletpoint on the bottom.

The older agent furrowed his brows, walking up to him. Jungkook's phone rang then and he excused himself as Seokjin bent down, to reread the notes on Jimin and his gang.

Arabella Valentine

-no known alias

-thief/spy

-age: unknown, ca. 25-30

-birthplace/nationality: unknown

-background: kidnapped at 5 by 'owl inc', past member

-associate to PJ his lover!

Someone had wiped out 'unknown' under background and had added new info. Alongside 'his lover' under associate. And Seokjin knew exactly who that someone had been.

But what or who was 'owl inc'? Were they the ones Jimin had been talking about?

He heard hurried footsteps coming closet then. "Sir, that was Agent Blake. It seems she's in trouble," Jungkook said flustered.

Seokjin frowned. "Okay, but be careful. Perhaps it wasn't the real Blake after all."

Jungkook's eyes widened, eventually understanding what he meant. It wouldn't be the first time Park Jimin perfectly immitated someone's voice, even a female one. So he nodded, promising to be careful before rushing out.

Seokjin watched him disappear behind the glass doors before focusing his attention back to the white board.

"Don?" he called out for one of the other few agents there. The man instantly perking up when hearing his name. "Call Jung Hoseok from the organised crime department tomorrow morning, I wanna ask him if he knows anything about this 'owl inc'." The agent nodded and noted it down, when Seokjin called out for him again. "And also get Kim Namjoon from special victims department here. We might need him, too."

In the meantime. Jungkook had exited the building and headed to its east side. Looking around frantically for any signs of his partner. His gun in his hand, just in case as he carefully roamed the area and turned around a corner.

Catching his breath when seeing an unconscious body against the wall. "Sky!"

Her head was bent towards one side, eyes closed.

He instantly put his gun back into its holster and rushed towards her, getting down on one knee beside her. She didn't seem to have any external injuries however that would explain her unconsciousness. He brushed some strands of hair away, trying taking her pulse by pressing two fingers on her arteria carotis. A long sigh of relief leaving his lips, when he could sense her pulse. Although a faint one. He knew he had to take her to the hospital immediately.

So he heaved her from the ground, holding her close as he walked her to his parked car.

"Hang in there a lil' bit more, Sky."

»»»

Havana, Cuba

Three knocks on the door. Silence. Another three followed.

"Yeah, yeah, coming," Taehyung yawned. Hair tousled and strands flying around as he cracked open the door. Seeing Jimin standing there with a wide smile. "Oh hey!"

Taehyung instantly reached for his gun, eyeing Jimin suspiciously. "Wowhoho," Jimin chuckled, shoving the gun away from his face, "Is this how you greet your best friend?"

"Obviously," Yoongi appeared behind Taehyung and brushed past him. Holding his sword in front of Jimin, just in case. "So you're back to normal now?"

"Yep, good old Jimin!" he grinned, pushing his fists against his waist and boasting out his chest proudly. Taehyung eyed him suspiciously up and down. He wanted to be entirely sure before eventually nodding, lowering his gun. Yoongi followed, slowly. Very slowly, allowing him to enter.

"So you won't try killing us again?" Taehyung arched a brow with a lopsided smirk, making Jimin huff. "I've never tried killing you."

"True, it was Arabella you were after," Yoongi corrected nodding, taking a seat on the couch, "You only attacked us because we tried holding you back."

Jimin sighed at the faint memory. It seemed rather like the memory of a stranger by now than his own. He was only glad his friends had been sane enough to keep him from getting to Arabella. He had been right after all when he had told her back in Mexico that they might not like her but they wouldn't let anyone harm her either. "Speaking of Bella, where's she?" he asked then, facing the two with a questioning look as he couldn't spot her anywhere.

Taehyung frowned. "Didn't you call her?"

"I assumed she'd be with you guys.. Why? Where's she?"

"Last time we heard of her she was with some multi-millionaire on a greek island," Yoongi shrugged. Causing Jimin to let out a loud groan. "This woman.. I told her it's not safe on her own.." He shook his head, exhaling deeply. "And you guys just let her?"

"She's an adult," Taehyung rolled his eyes, plopping down next to Yoongi, "It's not like we could force her to stay."

He groaned again. Getting more and more frustrated. "You should have."

"Jimin, chill. You out of all people should knew how headstrong she is. And it's not like she isn't able defending herself."

Folding his arms, he pouted and sat down. He knew Taehyung was right but couldn't help worrying about her. These guys were still after her after all. Whether to get revenge for her leaving or to get revenge for him for not finishing the job and crossing their current mission. Besides, he was the only one who could protect her, not some stupid 'multi-millionaire'.

He scoffed internally at the thought of that.

"What happened to you anyway, why were you after her?"

"It was these guys," Jimin mumbled. "They got me and I don't know.. brainwashed me? They gave me some mind control drug and conditioned me into only seeing her as a target. I had completely forgotten everything else. Partially even you guys. I mean, I knew you, but I had forgotten what you're to me. And I forgot what she is to me. The only thing on my mind was that 'I had to eliminate her'."

Yoongi scrunched his nose at his narration. "Sounds like you were their puppet."

"Kinda."

"And explains why you attacked us," he pointed out. "But you seem fine now. Are you fine?"

Jimin shrugged. "Guess so.. I got memory flashbacks in the cell pops locked me into. And eventually it all came back."

"About that.." Taehyung said awkwardly, rubbing his neck, "Sorry I set him on you. But it seemed the only save solution back then. You were out of your mind after all."

Jimin waved him off quickly, shaking his head. "Don't worry, I get it. And I had missed pops anyway," he chuckled then, "Poor guy looked so offended when I couldn't remember him anymore."

Maybe that was why he had given him those ten minutes to escape. He had looked quite happy when seeing Jimin had gained back his memory and remembered who Seokjin was.

They might be rivals, like cat and mouse, but they did have a mutual respect and sympathy for each other. And he was the only cop Jimin genuinely trusted.

"Alright, anyway," he exclaimed suddenly, clapping his hands enthusiastically. "New plan then! First we get Bella back, then we'll proceed with the original plan."

"The original plan?" Yoongi repeated, "You mean-"

"Yep. Following your idea and hopefully finding the treasure."

The older guy peeked at Taehyung who had been silently looking at his hands laying flat on his lap. Jimin frowned, eventually understanding. "Oh, look, Tae, if you prefer staying here with Cas, it's totally fine. I'd understand."

Taehyung pursed his lips, a troubled look on his face. Even if it had been only for merely two weeks, it had almost felt like the good old days. He always knew, however, that sooner or later he'd have to say goodbye to her again. Mentally preparing himself for that moment to come as it was lingering in the air from the beginning, ever since he let himself indulge and enter her life again. He was just glad it came later than expected. But still too soon.

"No, it's okay," he shook his head then and glanced at his friends. First at Jimin, then at Yoongi who was giving him a quiet glance of empathy. He had been there after all. He had seen him and Cassandra together and how happy he had been. "T-that's the life I've chosen after all. The only thing I'm good at," he smiled It was a sad one, they could tell. Sitting up straight then he forced his lips to grow wider. "And besides, I can't let you guys hanging. You'd be stranded without me. Well, at least you, Jimin. I know Yoongi can handle himself just fine."

Yoongi couldn't help but let out a small laugh at this as Jimin rolled his eyes.

"Fine. But don't use me as an excuse."

"I'm.. I'm not."

They grew quiet before Yoongi cleared his throat, changing topics. "When are we leaving?"

"I'll leave tomorrow to get Bella. You guys can follow later, in 2-3 days. Except if you already got other plans for these days." His glance wandered to Taehyung who shook his head quickly.

"N-no, that's fine." He stood up abrubtly and headed to the door. "2-3 days is enough to.. to bid her goodbye."

"Alright," Jimin nodded with a soft smile, "See you then."

Taehyung gave them a nod and left.

Jimin facing Yoongi then with a grin. "Alright, how about we go ea-"

"Sorry, already got plans tonight."

His eyes widened. "What plans?"

Yoongi shrugged and just stared into nothing. And Jimin knew he didn't even need to try. He wouldn't get any info out of Yoongi. Not if he didn't want to.

"Hmph. I'm gonna look for food on my own then."

»»»

Taehyung knocked on Cassandra's door with a heavy heart. Unsure of how to break it to her that he was leaving her. Again.

Her reaction wasn't something that scared him. He knew how understanding she was. He knew how she respected his life. No, her possible reaction wasn't scaring him. Rather tearing him apart. Because even if she was more understanding than he deserved, she had never been good in hiding her feelings. Her pain. Her big brown eyes always giving her away, as much as she tried hiding it.

So when Cassandra opened the door, seeing him standing there slouching and with a troubled expression, her wide smile instantly dropped. And before his lips could even part, she sighed. Giving him a sad smile. "You've got to leave, right?"

He simply nodded, unable to utter a word.

"When?"

"In three days."

She inhaled deeply. A stern expression spreading on her features then and she stood straight. "Don't you dare disappear on me again. Got it?"

Taehyung's lips fell agape and blinked, taken aback. "Cas, you know it's better wh-"

"-when you just dip and disappear like I've never mattered to you?"

He pressed his lips together, an equally serious look in his eyes. "You know I don't wanna drag you into the mass that's my life."

"Not this again, Tae," she groaned, her voice breaking despite her trying sounding stern and upset, "You know I don't mind it." She took a step forward then, placing her hand on his cheek. Caressing his warm skin with her thumb as a smirk tucked on her lips. "You know how cool I find my super hot master thief boyfriend."

He couldn't help but laugh at this. Even now she managed making him laugh. Her hand dropped down to his. Intertwining their fingers.

"Jimin's the master thief, I'm just the gunman."

"That's even hotter."

He shook his head amused, chuckling at her nonsense. "Doesn't that go against everything you stand for though? You save people's life while I-"

"I know you well enough," she interrupted him with a frown, tugging lightly at his hand, "I know you'd never intentionally hurt anyone and only shoot if necessary, to defend yourself and others."

He remained silent, staring at her in awe.

He honestly didn't believe he deserved Cassandra. She was too good of a person for a jackass like him. She deserved better. And yet, there she was, always sticking with him. Despite him hurting her over and over again in the attempt of protecting her.

"So?" Cassandra arched a brow at him. "Promise you'll come back after the job's finished? Otherwise I'll hunt you down myself. I might not have all you guys' skills but I will track you down on my own if you dare vanishing into thin air again."

A smile appeared on his lips and he nodded. Squeazing her hand before pulling her into his arms and embracing her tightly. "You make it hard for me to protect you, but yes, I promise."

»»»

next chapter: 1.2 here

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queervegancryptid · 22 days

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I don't even know why I'm bothering to try to get better anymore.

I mean, really, it's hard enough to be in active anorexia relapse, when recovery is already hard to convince yourself to want. But when insurance makes it impossible to get care, it's like... before I started looking for help, I was starving. Now I feel like all I've done is add an extra layer of frustration, and if anything, the restricting has gotten worse, not better.

You start to feel like you might as well just keep starving and stop fighting it, because if your only alternative is to be starving AND throwing yourself against a brick wall trying to get treatment... I mean, am I wrong?

I don't want to die, but really, it starts to feel like I don't matter at all. If I don't matter at all, why should I bother trying to recover? Again? And it is the umpteenth fucking time. And it gets even more exhausting and scary every time it happens. For the first time, if things continue this way, I might be at risk for refeeding syndrome, and my stomach is healing from an ulcer, and I have an electrolyte imbalance, so purging could literally be deadly for me right now. (They wouldn't cover the prescription for the electrolyte imbalance, either, btw. Despite it being FUCKING DOCUMENTED BY REPEATED LABS.)

But UHC says I need to prove that treatment is "medically necessary." Fuck that. I can count on one hand the number of actual meals I've eaten in the last month, I agonize over every fucking bite, and my BMI is literally the lowest it's ever been. But maybe treatment isn't "medically necessary."

Fuck that. Anyway, I'm not giving up, just venting. But I'll say this: I am done with UHC. Fucking over it. They've been borderline useless to me aside from paying for prescriptions, but they also haven't been reliable there, either. And now that I actually need help urgently for a problem that COULD ACTUALLY KILL ME, their being damn near useless just became a liability.

Really, it's my fault for not severing ties with them a long time ago. Especially after they SWITCHED MY PLAN WITHOUT ANY NOTICE at the start of the year. They said they sent a letter, which I never received, and the member services page where I log in had a link about plan changes, but it had nothing about that. I feel like that's called fraud, but idk.

If I can come back from this, I'm going to find a way to help other people going through this bullshit with the US healthcare system. This is not okay.

Oh, and I spent the last several months watching my cat slowly die. My partner and I basically were doing kitty hospice at home since late December or early January. Snippet, our kitty, died of bladder cancer just over two weeks ago. It was fucking brutal. I didn't know anything could hurt that much.

The stress from that made me not feel like eating, which made me start to lose weight, and the whole situation was so thoroughly miserable, I couldn't stop myself from grabbing hold of that feeling, because it was the only thing that seemed to be going right. Right now, it's the only thing that makes me feel good about myself.

I don't even actually want to give it up for myself. I just hate to put my partner through it. I knew I was in trouble when I started thinking about weighing myself regularly again. "Just to see," my brain says.

Fuck all of this. Where did my life go?

#anorexia #anorexia relapse #insurance #medical #venting #nik speaks #like if u read #ask 2 tag

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longeyelashedtragedy · 10 months

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it’s been a really powerful year for like mental health acceptance and self confidence building which inevitably means, when you’re as fucked-up as i am, that periods of that always then make you realize how much else is still wrong

at this point i think that as someone with C-PTSD i can’t expect to live a “normal” life in terms of how i interact with other people. i really...don’t think that will be possible. this level of acceptance has been my thing this year and it’s really been helpful to defy toxic positivity/disability porn culture and be honest and open with myself about the reality. it will never happen and that’s that. so i have to figure out what kind of “normal” i think i can realistically achieve and of course adapt that over time as needed. but there’s no way i can have what other people have--in offline or online spaces. and it’s actually sometimes worse to think about the latter because of the common belief that “oh you’re WEIRD you can’t make irl friends but can make Internet Nerd Friends” but to be totally honest i have some of the same problems in both spaces.

i was just reading about how exposure therapy for people who find it impossible to be in successful relationships with others is...duh, nearly impossible when you are triggered by relationships with others 😭 i keep trying to find alternate explanations but i think my actual complex trauma diagnosis kind of covers everything.

it’s very difficult to be in a social setting when you kind of can’t keep up in a “group” and “group” to you literally means more than one other person. i like...stop existing. i feel like this caged spectator. as the conversation goes on i start losing the capability to try to put a sentence together to get a word in. like those people who are “locked in” and can only move their eyes. if this happens the only thing that can kind of end it is if one of the people leaves or someone mercifully brings up something i’m very good at talking about, but i feel hurt after, like i’ve been hit by a bus and am picking myself off the ground. i used to have these very big, very scary dissociative episodes that were kind of cinematic, and i haven’t had one since 2014 but i’m realizing that i think i have smaller ones all the time. i complain a lot about my work team but we also were weirdly close to the point where i just told my coworker that i have Trauma so if i ever just seem like....weird or off that’s why--sometimes my mind just goes elsewhere and i don’t realize until it eventually returns to me and i realize i’ve been sitting in a room of people staring blankly at a wall for....a LONG time.

(the thing is...my brain doesn’t shut off so...It’s that i’m looking inside my head you know? the outside world just ceases to exist for a while.)

and like, jesus, everyone in the know agrees i’ve been doing “so much better” socially. this is so much better? i can’t even hold a conversation in a groupchat (unless it’s the deathpond because the deathpond is just. magical.) i’m so deeply afraid of other people. not afraid of their judgement or something, but like, the crux of it is that Other People in Groups are going to happily watch me die because of something inherently wrong with me that makes me deserve this from them, and i can’t tell people i need help because...i can’t trust Other People in Groups. by the time i was in pre-K or Kindergarten i knew my parents couldn’t help me with my problems and i lived in a constant state of random fear that would appear out of nowhere, which is pretty developmentally fucked up for a child less than six years old. i used to want to tell them to please help me--but i was also a disturbingly smart and intuitive kid, and i remember thinking, i can’t tell them because the only thing that will help me is to “take it out of my head.” and they can’t reach in and take it out, so it will just continue. and indeed--that is the only thing that would have helped me! i wasn’t properly diagnosed with anything till i was 24, and i had been to many therapists before that.

i’m not sure why i’ve written all this out. i used to write stuff like this on my tumblr but then stopped because of how public it is, but whatever. i guess i just want people to know. i want to have good relationships with others and laugh in groups and have fun. but it’s just too hard for me a lot of the time. sometimes i can handle it but other times it’s not at all possible. i just have to learn to accept that i won’t fit in. i might truly never be able to. it’s hard to accept.

#sigh #brain stuff #a passage i just read in jamie redknapp's book made me think of all this #of all the fucking places to see a disturbingly accurate depiction of part of your childhood LOL

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meikostan · 5 months

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It is literally impossible for me to shut up about vocaloid songs i like so i'm going to list a couple of songs and talk about why I like them so much and why you should like them too (to be updated continuously because once again I'll never shut up)

HONORABLE MENTION: The 13 minute, 64-song My Favorite Vocaloid Medley. I have had the lyrics to this beast memorized since I was 12 years old. It warms my heart to know that people are still making covers with this specific medley. I'll link to some of my favorites. Original song version UTAU medley (the only part i dislike is homokure's part idk why but it enrages me) The funny version NEKSM cover Abandoned UTAU cover Bonus: my playlist of each song from the medley in order

Tokyo Teddy Bear - Neru

Literally the song that got me into vocaloid in 5th grade. I was already aware of vocaloid and generally had positive feelings towards it because i had seen the World is Mine concert years before (it had blown my little 7 year old brain btw) but this song is the game changer. If you're a vocaloid fan you have probably listened to this song before so I won't spend too much time trying to pitch the song and instead talk about its impact on me. This bad boy has been with me for at this point nearly half of my life. It's one of the few vocaloid songs I listened to before I ever started learning Japanese (side note remind me to make a post about this too so I can share my numerous resources). Also quick shoutout to JubyPhonic for the line "ends justify the seams" in their english cover, fucking amazing. Anyway, this was also the song that cemented Rin as my favorite vocaloid in middle school (1, she has the range, 2, she's just like me fr <---suffering).

Honorable mention: Alfakyun's cover

2. 3年C組14番窪園チヨコの入閣 (Year 3 Class C No. 14 Kubozono Chiyoko's Joining of the Cabinet)

I have mentioned this before. Books do not make me cry. Songs do not make me cry. Movies have made me cry exactly once when I was 6 years old, and after that never again. This song is one of the few things to have ever made me produce genuine tears. You can tell how much I like it cause both this blog and my main's pfps are from this song. It's the ending, it gets me every time. But it's also the buildup of the actual song that makes the moment. It's hard for me to word exactly why, I've retyped and reworded this sentence many times. There's something about the contrast between the goofy dancing cats and how quietly Rin is singing. But also how, save for the students and cats, there is a near total lack of color (with of couse the bright orange being exclusive to Chiyoko and the cats). And how the song still has a kind of energy to it. I almost don't want to 'spoil' the ending but it's such a big part of why this song has the impact it does on me. Go watch the MV if you haven't yet, I'll wait... 3... 2... 1... ...Now do you get it?

3. The Beast - Spectacle-P (original video, not on spectacle-p's channel; this 2021 remake is, however, on their official channel)

You already know i'm a certified beasthead. There was a time in my life (which went on for more than a few months) where I would spend hours listening to various covers of this song on repeat. She means everything to me. Brief overview of the story: Singer (the beast) isolates themself in a tower of their own loneliness, when a human comes along and breaks down those walls so to speak (and then dies, badly). But now the beast realizes they do actually need human connection, and the song ends with them returning to society, waiting for the day they'll meet their loved one again. I think on some level I relate to the beast. I don't know how much of my isolation is self inflicted and how much is just a natural part of who I am. Maybe even the "natural" part is something that I just incorporated into myself, like the beast (who was formerly human).

Aside from the emotional impact of the lyrics, another reason I love this song so much is because of the composition, even divorced from the lyrics. A not insignificant portion of the covers I repeatedly listen to are literally just piano covers. It's so captivating and well made. I don't know if this is just because I have the original lyrics engraved into my skull or what but somehow even without words the song imparts the same bittersweet feelings.

Honorable mentions: Hinami Mei's cover My The Beast playlist of every iteration of The Beast that I can find One time I remade The Beast with cat meows + oboe + piano

4. Monochrome Shangri-la - MASA Works DESIGN

Definitely not the first song you think of when Masa comes to mind. This song is less overtly dark as his other works, being based off of Kenji Miyazawa's 1934 novel Night on the Galactic Express (銀河鉄道の夜), a pretty widely known and loved novel. This isn't even the only vocaloid song to be based on it - sasakure.UK's "For Campanella" comes to mind. This is also the reason I actually read the book (well, read part of and then finished via audiobook for the daily listening challenge.) But yeah, no gore or necrophilia or anything, just fun times on the space train and then also Campanella dies.

To me the song at times feels intentionally overwhelming, veering from a fun bouncing energy to the sense that suddenly everything is happening at once. Or maybe just being overwhelmed by the "many colored sky", like through your journey in space you're just hit with sight after sparkling sight. It is, after all, "just you, our dreams, the stars, and me". The loss of Campanella (as implied through the lyrics, though he's never actually named) transforms this into a much more frantic feeling.

5. No One Likes a Wallflower - MonochroMenace

I need you to drop what you're doing and listen to this song right fucking now. I think it may be my favorite engloid song. Literally this rocks so hard, there was a point in time where I listened to it multiple times daily for a month straight. Which may be a little surprising considering it only came out like 4 months ago. It's catchy, has an awesome MV, and the lyrics are fun (and honestly kind of call me out x) ) Despite that it doesn't ever cross into being actually mean-spirited toward the people being described (ie, people who prefer to sit by the sidelines in a party, or people who feel forced into doing so). It hasn't been a long enough time for me to say that this is life changing like the other songs listed but genuinely I have been so obsessed with this song that if I don't recommend it here I'll explode. Badly.

#WARNING: i get cringe (personal)#also dont judge me for how i describe music please i am an artist who arranges things visually not musically 🙏#vocaloid

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tferillwrites · 5 months

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Here’s the full first Chapter.

Chapter 1 - Luna

Sweat beaded from my forehead and down my neck. The cramped bar was sweltering and I needed some cool air, stat. My heavy curls were a nightmare to deal with in the heat. The hair on my head added a few more degrees of heat to my body. I shot back the last remnants of the alcohol in my cup, “I’m heading outside to cool off.” I yelled over the music at the girl standing beside me. She gave me a confused look and shrugged her shoulders. Probably because I’d literally just met her ten minutes ago, and decided to spill my life story in an alcohol induced therapy session. I side stepped a couple drunken dancers and howlers before slamming the metal door to the back of the bar open. The cool air rushed me in seconds, making me groan. I gathered my loose hair in my hands letting the gentle breeze hit the back of my neck. The alley was quiet, the streetlights casted small shadows across the pavement. The faint smell of pot hit my nose and I looked around the lonely space. Dark shadows bathed the corners of the brick walls making it impossible to see. All but the tiny red ember right across from me. I stared at it a moment, wondering if I had more to drink that I thought I did or I was seeing shit. Blinking rapidly I made out the tall body leaning against the brick wall ahead.

“Sorry, I didn’t know someone else was out here.”

“Na, you’re good.” His rasp was muffled by the smoke billowing out of his mouth. That voice triggered an onslaught of deep seeded memories. I shook my head. No, it couldn’t be him.

His body shifted so the sliver of light hit the bottom half of his face. Close cropped facial hair covered the bottom half. The smirk on his lips made my belly flop. There was only one smile that could do that to me. And I refused to think it was him. I must be drunk. Maybe the chick roofied me in the bar.

“Well, goodnight.” I spun on my heel and took a step before his voice made me pause.

“Aw, come ma. That any way to treat an old friend?” My blood ran cold as I turned back around to face the man behind me. He cocked his head giving me a perfect view of his face. I blinked back the shock as I stared into the dark depths of Zander Mesias eyes. It had been years since I’d seen him.

“Little star,” he drawled in that stupidly deep voice of his. The ass hat couldn’t even get my name right after all these years. He leaned back casually against the brick wall of the bar. A joint poised into his mouth, and a tiny sliver of a smirk upturning his lips. His dark hair was perfectly mussed at the top, the sides were clean cut and faded. He took his forefinger and thumb to pluck at the joint. The darkness of the alley obscured his tall body, and his clothing cloaked him perfectly.

“What the hell are you doing here Mesias?”

He took another lung full of smoke before he retrieved a metal case from his leather jacket, and placed it in there before clicking it closed.

“Came to visit a dear friend.” His teeth gleamed in the night like a predator’s. It only made my fists curl in on themselves.

“And yet your Neanderthal brain can’t get my name right.” I bit back.

A slow deep chuckle rumbled from his throat and I swallowed hard at the sound of it.

“Still as fiery I see.” He pulled off the wall and walked toward me. I held my ground, there was no way I’d let the asshole see how much he still affected me after all of these years. Fuck him. The way his tall body walked, excuse me, it was more like a prowl really. Who the fuck prowls? I mean seriously. But, that was the only way I could describe it. He was tall, his shoulders were broad on a lean athletic frame. I tipped my head back to meet his eyes, my nose was filled with his scent. The earthy smell of his joint lingered on his clothes with something else; sweet and faint like sandalwood.

“I asked you a question, what the hell are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be running circles on your little bike somewhere in Raymont?”

His smile only grew from there and it infuriated me.

“Is that what you think I do? Run circles on my little bike?” There was a tinge of an accent on the word little as he emphasized it.

“You’ve got something I need.” He mused. My eyebrows crinkled in confusion.

“What could I possibly have that you need?” I retorted. A small little smile graced his lips, “That pretty little brain of yours of course.”

“Excuse me?”

He licked his lips before he continued, “You’re some sort of IT genius, no?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you do. And I need you to do a job for me.”

A short burst of laughter bubbled out of my throat followed by a full blown belly laugh.

He cocked his head like a curious puppy, “Something funny?” His face was serious as if he really didn’t understand why I was laughing.

“Your fucking with me right Mesias?”

“Why would I do that?” He asked.

I shook my head and scoffed, “Because you’re the last person I’d do a job for. I’d rather sit my bare ass on an Arizona sidewalk in the middle of a heat wave before I did anything for you. Besides who says I’m still doing that shit anyway?” I shrugged off the question.

He stepped in closer, “Well for one, I know you're working your little hacking skills to pay your way through college. You hate that your parents wanted to pay off your tuition and you want to break away from the status quo of being the spoiled little rich girl everyone sees you as.”

I ground my teeth, “You couldn’t possibly know that.”

He laughed, making my body feel on edge. “Oh, but I do. You don’t think you’re the same little girl I knew back then? That little rebellious streak in you is still kickin’.” My mouth dropped open and anger rose up in me, “You don’t know shit. I’m making my own way in this life with my earnings and no one else’s. How I get my money is none of your fucking business.”

He tsked at me in a patronizing manner, “Everything you do is my business and will be my business from now on.” He took another step closer, making me relent and take two back. The rough exterior of the brick wall met my hot skin as I stared up at the man I was unfamiliar with now. We used to— he was my— I — my brain seized at the thoughts coming back to me. The memories that I had of him from years ago. When I knew him. When it was us and we were careless and on top of the world. We were so young back then. He looked so much older now, a dark energy striking through him like lightning. He still had that sinful boyish smirk on his face but his eyes held something menacing. Almost inhumane. I knew what he was. I’d be stupid to think his hands weren’t stained with the blood of the people that stood in his way. That’s what he was. A killer. A man who’s only job was to hunt, torture and kill. Being a Hades Hellhound came with a price. And I was convinced he sold his soul to Hades himself to get that look in his eyes. My body shuddered at the thoughts swarming my head.

“Fuck off Mesias. Like I said, I’m not doing shit for you. So go back to your little club and go play bad guy somewhere else. I’m uninterested.”

I began to skirt away from his imposing form before a strong hand clamped down on the back of my neck and hauled me back. The force was so hard it sent my body tumbling backwards, and I crashed into his body behind me. As soon as he steadied my fall, he spun me around and pinned me to the wall. His large tattooed hand covered the base of my throat. I swallowed hard as I met his dark eyes and tracked his arm all the way up to his neck. His hand rippled, fingers tensing making the ink on his skin swirl like smoke.

“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying little star. I’ve got a job for you, you work for me now, and I will use you as I see fit. Entendido?”

The blood in my veins nearly boiled at the anger coursing through my body.

A smile graced my lips, making sure he could see the pearly whites of my teeth. For a flash of a second I swore I could see the confusion on his face. He was quick to school his features though, I’d give him that. I’ve alway been a people watcher, I’ve learned every tick, smile, reaction from the human body. Something that came naturally as an outsider. You had all the time in the world when you were left alone. Even the slightest shudder of the eye was something I caught.

“Make me,” I challenged. My smile was wide and gleaming now. I loved to call people’s bluff.

A sadistic smile quirked his lips and in the next second the cold press of a gun met the side of my temple. My blood ran cold as I felt the hard muzzle against my skin. His hand on my neck didn’t falter, in fact he squeezed harder, giving me a lightheaded feeling.

“I’m not the same person you used to know,” his voice was pitched low and rough, “You thought you knew me back then, but what I do leaves no room for humanity.” The gun moved from my temple and began coasting down the middle of my chest and down my belly. “So when I see you, I feel nothing.” The gun continued coasting lower until it met my pubic bone, making me gasp what little breath I had lodged in my throat. “I could pull the trigger right now and walk away. Leave your body for the next unsuspecting fool to walk upon it.”

My body trembled with his words as I watched the dark pits of his eyes. His leg came up and parted my thighs, high enough for me to feel the rough fabric of his jeans rub my clit over my panties. My body trembled with the action.

He finally pulled the gun away and tucked it back into the holster he wore underneath his jacket. The warmth of his body dissipated all at once as he retreated back a few steps. The light of the street lamp caught his shiny dark hair.

“Great interview, you got the job, little star. Meet me at Hell’s shop next Friday night, I’ll send you the details.” He called out with a picture perfect smile on his face. He turned on his heel and walked down the street until he vanished from my sight. I leaned on the brick wall trying to piece together what the fuck had just happened. The familiar roar of an engine started up and I walked toward the lonely street lamp casting everything in yellow.

I watched as he sped by in a black skull balaclava covering his face, his head swiveled to watch me. Everything felt like it was going in slow motion. The cold wind swept the hem of my skirt. The shiny flash of chrome from his bike glinting in the night. Even the way his eyes seemed to stick to me. Seeing Zander again was like a bad Omen. I was fucked.

#indie author #romance author #romance writer #romancebooklover #romance books #romance #enemies to lovers #second chance romance #mcromance #dark romance #smutty #romance reader #art

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kimarisgundam · 7 months

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I said "I know Judo b*tch" cos my friends were meta gaming and saying stuff like "Oh no she's going to die 😰" and "we have to reach her! She's defenceless 😰"...

My point was, my character isn't defenseless. Yeah, I have the lowest Body stat, but I'm not defenseless without my hacks >_>... it's insulting when you guys act like I can't save myself >_>...

But our DM thought this was really funny... so she canonised this as my Netrunner yelling "I know Judo b*tch" at a Militech agent before judo throwing him...

My Netrunner rarely swears (she was raised to behave like a "lady"), so now Rockerboy and Exec are side eyeing her >_>

I ended up saving myself btw. So I don't know why my friends think my character needs protecting 🙄

Like seriously. My friends' characters are all gonks. If I want something done, I got to do it myself 🙄

They should know by now that my Netrunner acts weak and defenceless just to get people to do the heavy lifting for her. I would have installed monowires if I wasn't capable of using them 🙄

^ I kinda want to say that everything is OK now... but my Netrunner got into a serious argument with our Rockerboy again

(and I guess me and my friend don't see eye to eye irl too)

The evidence of Militech's bribe and footage of NCPD torturing Rockerboy and his bandmate NPC is with my Netrunner and our Media

My Netrunner has a NPC friend that she's close with. They were friends since Arasaka Academy. This friend has a high rank in NCPD and was the one who created the distraction that let my Netrunner escape

He wants her to delete the evidence of the bribe and of what his colleagues did to Rockerboy cos:

This is a PR nightmare cos of Rockerboy's popularity... and he doesn't want to deal with this

The bribe was from Militech. He doesn't want to create tension between NCPD and Arasaka

It's not like NCPD as a whole took the bribe. I was just a few officers. He will deal with them internally for causing me trouble

He admits he takes bribes too, and he admits there's a lot of bad blood between him and Rockerboy... but he backed off every since he found out I'm friends with Rockerboy. So can't I return the favour?

Exposing NCPD is bad for Rockerboy too. A lot of the officers already hate him. If he creates more trouble for them, he's just painting a bigger target on his back

I covered up for Rockerboy everytime he messes with Militech. But Militech isn't dumb, they know it's Rockerboy. Exposing Militech publicly like this is just going to make them angrier

I... I guess I agree with all of my NPC friend's points. That's why I don't want to hand over the evidence to Rockerboy

Our part-time party member also agrees with my irl, and as his Media. Exposing this will do more harm than good

^ Plus Media is aware of my Netrunner's reputation. He views her as a valuable "resource" so he's more inclined to side with her

Now it's my Netrunner, Exec, and Media Vs Rockerboy, and both solos... Wraith wants to stay out of this argument cos he's just Exec's huscle

My friend is mad at me cos she ships our characters together and she feels my Netrunner never reciprocates anything he does for her

And I'm mad at my friend cos how many times do I have to say it's impossible between them. And wtf do you mean she doesn't reciprocate? Who do you think she left Arasaka and her dad for? She left Arasaka cos she chose his life over her duty >:U

I literally chose this friendship over my bio dad and brother >:T

This isn't about her friend. It's about not doing things to provoke Militech any further. There's already a target on his head. He made so many powerful enemies. Can he just stop and listen for once?? I feel like my Netrunner is arguing with a wall

#>:T #there is no peace in our Cyberpunk Red campaign #personal

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bleedingliquidlight · 2 years

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diary entry #1: wednesday june first, 2022

i woke up today, expecting the first day of june to feel like 'graceland too' by phoebe bridgers, but it felt more like 'icu' (fun fact, the song was actually released as 'i see you' because we were in lockdown, when people were literally dying in the icu from covid). i'm on episode nine of season three of the vampire diaries and i realised how annoying klaus' accent is. i finished up my chemistry revision on bonding and also did the topic of kinetics all before midday, and then booked the gym for one o'clock. i saw evangeline's friend macie there, i didn't recognise her at first, but then i saw a 5sos hoodie and tote bag in the changing room. i went to my favourite charity shop on the way back and found a turkish copy of twilight, as well as morrissey's autobiography, cool jeans with aztec embroidery (i told jennifer about them, they reminded me of her) and a china plate that i would've hung on my wall. i planned to start psychology revision when i got back, but got distracted by katy who finally messaged me back (we managed to have a civil conversation, but i don't think things will ever be completely civil) as well as sean, who had also messaged me for the first time in a while. i'm starting to think that the two people are linked in some way; either i'm distant from both of them, or suddenly, they both want to talk to me, or when something significant will happen with my relationship with one person, it does with the other also. and that's kind of weird considering what they both mean to me (i like to think of them as on opposite ends of the spectrum of my mind; this makes no sense, just go along with it). i was dramatically singing taylor swift as i was home alone and had a minor breakdown once i realised that i severely related to 'betty' on a concerning level (let's just say i'm james, katy is betty and sean is augustine). speaking of, katy talked to me about her exams and pride month, sean talked to me about buying 'it ends with us' (i warned him it was hardcore porn, he said "oh well i need to broaden my horizons"). i also remembered suddenly (whilst talking to two queer people, might i add) that it's pride month, so i told katy about how my neighbouring town is having a pride parade, and that i can't go this year, but next year, i'm dragging her to go with me; she didn't seem entirely opposed to the idea. the new cover for 'alone with you in the ether' came out; hate the blue but i love the bees. i started seeing ghosts in my house and sean told me to blast 80s music to scare it away. sami came home and offered me all her old clothes (which would save me from searching in charity shops); she also reminded me to do extra revision today since we're going to lake windermere tomorrow, so i'm gonna try to get through the whole of the social influence topic. i alternated between listening to catfish and the bottlemen (my new obsession) and my liked songs, which was a dangerous game to play as it also made me realise that it is physically impossible for me to make a main playlist, in the rare unfortunate occasion that phoebe bridgers would come on after catfish (it could happen). i also had the sudden realisation whilst listening to 'habits of my heart' that this is song is about an abusive relationship, and despite knowing the lyrics and understanding them, i still perceived them to be about love. i migrated to the front room to study because hannah was painting a massive acrylic sheet on the table, and she was slowly pushing me off it (i noticed that 95% of our conversations were her talking to me and me completely ignoring her, like, i managed to have both my headphones in and not hear a word of what she was saying and subsequently didn't reply to a word she said and she didn't suspect a thing). heidi sent me a tiktok of her friend and his girlfriend and now we both promptly want to kill everyone that is in love.

i was taking the clothes off from outside, just after sunset, and i saw the prettiest phase of the moon; it's the waxing crescent, meaning it was the new moon a few days ago. i was on the voice call on the summer school discord server and everyone acknowledged me straight away, telling me that they were in the middle of the game but i could stay if i wanted to hear them nonsensically screaming so i stayed since it provided as entertainment. i went through sami's wardrobe and said no to most the clothes she offered me, apart from a long black jacket, a baggy blue shirt and this really ugly burgundy and blue stripey jumper with embroidered flowers that i want to turn into a bag (i've never taken a textiles class in my life). my dad sat us all down, just before i went to bed, so he could show us this scene from a indian action film and it had the worst cgi i have ever seen in a film (there was a whole zoo jumping out of a lorry and all the animals basically massacred the people).

song of the day: 'caroline' by jadu heart

#i'm gonna see how long i can keep this up for #diary entry #tumblr diary #online diary #my diary #diary #june #pride

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

Text

Demigod MC Series: Dionysus

Hey y’all, sorry for going dark! I’m alright, almost completely recovered in fact! I just got so sleepy while my body was fighting stuff off and couldn’t really work up the energy to write... Still going to be spotty for a short time, but I’m glad to have gotten this done. See ya soon!

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus

Lucifer

Well, this mortal stumbled out of the portal covered in glitter, body paint, and carrying a red solo cup… which they proceeded to stare at like, "'ell sshhit… Thiz iz sum stron s'uff…"

First impressions were not on their side here.

He spent a depressingly long amount of time more or less assuming that the MC was a drunken f-up and spent the first few months trying to make them more… presentable.

But like… How do you stop someone from acting like a drunk fool when they can turn any drink they touch alcoholic???

For months they would show up to meetings buzzed or stumbling, all smiles and all giggles but HORRIBLY unprofessional, and he just couldn't stand it!

But then he found out their little secret…

Assassination threats befall the exchange students all the time. Most of them are dealt with quickly but some (through skill or dumb luck) manage to slip through...

He had been walking with the MC through their new vineyard in the House's courtyard, yet again trying to lecture them about their drunken behavior, when suddenly the two were ambushed!

Ten or so heavily armored demons dropped down from the sky to attack them! Lucifer was so preoccupied that he got cornered by three of them and it took him a hot minute to destroy them.

When he looked back at the mortal (who had been fighting a 1-on-7) he was certain they'd have been kidnapped or worse…

But he saw that they had already cut down two attackers with their weapon with ease. The other five were rolling in the dirt, babbling about inexplicable terrors and imaginary pain as their minds succumbed to madness…

Meanwhile, the MC just stood in the middle of it all with the icy glare of someone who’s just revealed how stone-cold sober they've always been under the surface...

When they turned back to him, they put their usual ditzy smile back on over the tormented wails of the demons around them...

MC: Whoopsie… Gotta little mad there. 🙂

He uh… took a big ol'step off their back after that. Surprisingly, they're more pleasant (and less dangerous) "drunk" than they are sober…

Mammon

Oh HELL yeah!! Lucifer actually gave him a mortal that knows how to party!!

Admittedly, they looked like utter trash when they first met, like, "Hey, I've been at this party since DAWN" trash, but they gave him one good look and pulled together a surprisingly hot smile.

MC: "-ey yer cute… Ya like strip poker?"

Spoken like someone else who also makes shit decisions… They were going to get along just fine!

And they did. The MC to him was that one friend that's always down for anything. Just anything. Whenever. Wherever.

He wants to try sneaking into Lucifer's room to steal stuff? Sure, what time?

He wants to take a mattress and see if he can ride it down the grand staircase of the palace? Alright, we bringin' pillows too?

He needs to set up another scheme that's gotta involve live rats and box of tiny hats and monocles?? That's oddly specific but count them in!!

Sometimes he honestly can't tell if they're laid back or just crave chaos... but it works out fine for him either way so who cares? 🤷‍♀️

And if you think normal Mammon is a pain in the ass for Lucifer? Check out drunk Mammon. All the same urges but literally none of the (marginal) competence!!

At one point, the eldest ended up stringing both Mammon and the MC from the ceiling after they both barged into his office looking for Goldie… while he was still in there… watching them wander around aimlessly calling out for a piece of plastic like it was a missing puppy…

They end up together on the ceiling a lot come to think of it, but hey, at least now he has some company. 😌

Leviathan

Thinks they're the most normal normie to have ever normed on this normie planet!!!

No, seriously. They're a billion times worse than Asmo!! All they want to do is go to parties and drink all the time! What kind of use is he to someone like that??

… That being said they ARE pretty fun to be around… And their sake is WAY better than anything he could get off Akuzon!!

They also like karaoke too! So at least he has someone else to go with (even if they get so drunk they can’t remember any lyrics and just belt barely coherent discount Mariah Carey vocals behind him...)

Of course, the real fun between these two is everybody else getting to watch a couple of the Devildom's sloppiest drunks attempt to communicate with each other…

Levi: MMM-*hic*-MCCC…!!! *throws himself at them from across the bar*

MC: What Leviachan??? 😨 Did the chair kick you off?!

Levi: Nooo! *pokes their cheek* I wanna-I wanna tell you sometin'...! *tries pulling them closer*

MC: Whaa? Secrets?? *leans in eagerly*

Levi: Mammon used all ma money on’a pyramid scheme a thou-zand years ago… AND HE STILL WON'T PAY ME BAAA-!!! 😭😭 *starts shaking them violently*

MC: *getting flung around like a limp noodle* Waaaat?! Nooo!!! I'm so sowwy!! 😢

Mammon: *watching it all go down right next to him* 😑 Ya guys need some water… I'm cuttin' ya off, got it?

MC: 😱 Shut yer whore mouth, criminal!! *starts pelting him with pretzel bites*

Levi: 😤 Yah!! *joins in*

Good thing he's a shut-in, because the hangovers he gets after those escapades are unreal…

Satan

A little concerned for their liver, honestly… How much damage have they already done to the poor thing...?

But at the same time, he'll be damned if they don't make some utterly fantastic wine!

Alcokinesis wasn't a power he would have pegged a demigod to have but apparently the great art of making drinks comes from their godly DNA.

When they first met, he was trying to get the MC to act less slovenly but made the mistake of agreeing to a wager: he'd let them dress however they pleased if they could give him the BEST drink he'd ever tasted.

Now, Satan isn't a huge drinker (thank you terrible alcohol tolerance), but he's still a man of fine tastes. Plus, he's sampled Demonus from Diavolo royal stock before. They should not have won…

But on that day, he had to let them go to RAD in a pink blanket toga... 😑 Their wine is just THAT good.

He hates to admit it, but they've gotten him drunk more times than he could probably count too… He's not a huge fan of clubbing with them and the others, but if they bring over a bottle from their vineyard he just can't resist. They're a master of their craft, truly.

And it's a good thing he likes their drinks so much, because if they called him, "Kitty-boy," when he's sober, he may have just become a sour grape himself…

They also may or may not have copious amounts of blackmail material of him either meowing between sentences, sobbing over some fictional character he likes, pole dancing on dares….

Yeah, he's been trying to destroy their phone for months now. If Lucifer were to see ANY of that, he's done for… 😣

He has also been meaning to ask them about other aspects of their abilities, their father is also the God of Madness after all, but anytime he tries to bring it up they shove another glass in his hand and tell him not to kill the mood...

Eh. What's the harm in having another drink, right? 🤷‍♀️

Asmodeus

Honey. He's MET Dionysus. He's been to a Dio-party or two and they're INSANE. He could not be more thrilled by this!!!

He practically scooped them up on the first night that they were in the House and it’s practically been a nonstop rave between these two ever since. They’re like the party twin he never knew he needed!!

He absolutely abuses their ability to turn pretty much any drink they touch into alcohol at clubs. It makes the nights so much easier on the wallet PLUS it makes an excellent little party trick to impress the succubi! Who doesn’t want a free drink? 😏

And can he just say that their drinks are better? Just flat out amazing! If it weren’t so unhealthy he’d consider drinking nothing but their booze and wine for the rest of his days, Satan’s certainly getting close to it.

But little does Satan know, he’s not even getting the GOOD stuff...

There’s the normal wine: grapes picked from the vineyard, hand squeezed, then magically helped through the fermenting process. But their real good stuff? They were given enchanted oak barrels from their father and anything that comes out of those is worth starting a WAR over. 😩

He knows, because he gifted an extra bottle to Diavolo once and Barbs came to him the very next day demanding to know what vineyard had produced it with the look of man willing to annex a small nation...

Asmo had to beg Lucifer to talk to Diavolo after the butler more or less kidnapped the MC back to the Castle… Devil knows even Barbs wouldn’t ever be able to reproduce their wine, so they could have been locked there for eternity!!

Thankfully, he got his party-buddy back and their debauchery continued! (Just now with Barbatos following them around sometimes like he’s trying to gather state secrets... It’s an impossible task but he hasn’t given up yet, bless his black heart.)

Beelzebub

He isn't much bothered by their carefree nature, at least they seem to be having fun with his family which he appreciates. 🙂

To be honest, though, he nearly ate them when they first met because they smell like freshly peeled grapes… and for good reason.

By their third day at the House they had (somehow) planted and cultivated a full on vineyard in the courtyard. Hell, the wall growing to their bedroom balcony was covered in grapevines!! Always ripe and completely healthy in defiance of the lack of sun... Whatever magic they used was strong.

And, of course, their grapes were also delicious! Easily among the best fruits he's ever tasted! Every cluster is ridiculously plump, juicy, and sweet like little droplets of pure Heaven… 🤤

When their fruit first ripened, the MC came out with a basket to collect some only to find Beel had gouged himself on over half of their crop!!!

… which may have been why he got snared up on one of the courtyard walls by pissed off grapevines... Even with all his strength, he couldn't break through them and had to wait for Lucifer to cut him down… 😔

From then on, Beel was pretty much the pesky rabbit to the MC's harvest. They had to set up traps and magical barriers to keep him from their precious grapes…!! Which inevitably meant one of his brothers had to come rescue him from their furious vines at least once a week... 🙄

SOMETIMES, the MC will bring him along to help harvest with them with the deal that he can have an extra basket for however many he helps them pick. But the second he takes a bite he shouldn't, it’s back on the wall!

Out of the vineyard, they're nice enough. But put some grapes between these two and they're mortal enemies… STOP messing with their plants, Beel!! 😤

Belphegor

So… this drunken fool is supposed to get him out of the attic? Never mind, this is never going to work…

He was SEVERELY underwhelmed when the "human" finally made it up the steps. This was who they decided to bring for their exchange program? They seemed like they could barely stand!

Naturally, he figured all the better for him. They probably wouldn't even last that long!

Some poor, incompetent human falling victim to a demon out there? Diavolo's reputation would in tatters and he wouldn't even have to lift a finger! (His favorite way of doing things really 😌).

But… they just kept coming back? Like. Nothing was killing them….! How guarded were they keeping this moron??

Or… maybe it was something else?

Sure, the MC seemed like a drunken idiot but there were times when he'd swear that they were just… too aware to be sloshed…

MC: *suddenly stops smiling at him mid-conversation and looks him in the eye* You tilt your head when you lie. You know that?

How can someone so cheerful ALSO be so unnerving…?

So really, he should have seen their sudden heel-turn after they opened the door coming. There he was, fully intending to take them by surprise and choke them after a hug…

...and they knocked him down, climbed onto his back like a spider monkey, and rode him around like a bucking bull using his horns like handlebars!!

It wouldn’t have been AS humiliating if they didn’t also keep shouting things like "Giddiyap!" And "Yee-haw!!"

It took him a whole month to be sure that any and all footage of that nightmare was erased and he STILL hates the MC quite a bit for it…. But he's too scared to attack them now, so…

The lesson here? It's not a fair fight when one side’s crazy... 😔😒

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demigods

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sylverstorms · 3 years

Text

Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch. 8

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7

It has come to a point where you can’t even pretend to yourself that you don’t care for her.

All the time you spend with Cassandra every evening has made certain feelings impossible to deny, though you are too scared to name them all.

You don’t name the smile you can’t contain when she excitedly pulls you to the armory to show you her collection of blades –and explains, in a very animated fashion, about the optimal use for each one. You don’t want to know what the stutter in your heartbeat means, every time she genuinely laughs, pale neck thrown back, nose slightly scrunched and all.

And it’s not just Cassandra you grow a tad closer to.

Bela comes to you whenever the two of them have argued and goes ‘Tell my sister’ this or that. Daniela is apparently not allowed within a twenty meter radius of you, but she approaches to poke and prod at you whenever she wants to annoy Cassandra. She never manages to do either, because the middle sister always swoops in, fuming, dragging her away by the hood of her robes like a kitten.

Lady Dimitrescu is the only one as distant as the day you first saw her –and it’s probably for the better. You don’t see her much, anyway, not with how Cassandra takes you to empty castle wings to have you all to herself.

Tonight is different.

After dinner, Bela leaves with her mother and you go to help the other maids present clean the table. But your lover steps in the way and grabs your elbow, instead, hurriedly pulling you along.

“Do not tell me you’re seriously thinking to make me wait longer.” she says.

Of course, you promised to watch a movie you found on your phone with her and she’s been buzzing with impatience since.

That is, until a certain redhead blocks your way.

“Daniela, move.” Cassandra huffs.

“What are you doing? Take me with you.” the younger sister replies, brimming with childlike curiosity.

“No. Go bother Bela.” A shooing motion is made.

“Bela’s no fun. I wanna come with you and Alexia.” she drops your name so casually it’s startling.

“Wait give me a moment to think about it –moment over. No.” Cassandra states, fast.

But Daniela shoots forward and grabs your arm like a koala. Your eyes go wide at the same time as Cassandra’s, for different reasons.

The brunette immediately grips her sister’s robes, none-too-gently. “Don’t touch her, she’s mine!”

“If you don’t take me along I’m telling mother where you found that music player and phone!” Daniela answers, her hold enough to cut off your blood flow.

You send Cassandra a pleading look before they break your arms with how they’re tugging at you.

“On one condition.” the elder sister holds a finger up to her sibling’s face. “You sit next to me and you don’t move around.”

“…she’s warm, though.” Daniela says, all but pouting. “Mother says sharing is caring~”

“Find your own human.” Cassandra growls out as the three of you make your way to the main hall and the couch adjacent to the fireplace there.

“You and Bela have gotten the prettier ones!”

“You snooze, you lose.”

Cassandra quite literally pins you to the arm of the couch with her body, to keep Daniela as far away from you as possible. Even as the movie starts, you can feel her sulking by your neck for not being able to touch you the way she wants.

You are not as focused on the movie as you are cute way she plays with your hand throughout its duration.

It’s getting harder and harder to remind yourself of what they are.

Especially when, ten minutes after the credits have rolled, Daniela is still crying over the death of the protagonist. Even Bela comes to the hall and asks Cassandra what she did to her.

By the time she��s done dealing with her sisters, your lover comes to you sporting a headache.

“We’re leaving this wing right now.” Cassandra says and that is about all the warning you get.

The next second you feel a rush of air and your stomach leaping to where your heart is supposed to be; Your eyes only make out a blur and an augur of black flies.

When she comes to a halt you crash into Cassandra’s side with a gasp. Your arm aches from the pull. The world spins for ten solid seconds.

She laughs by your ear. Low and satisfied as it is at your disorientation –it reminds you of drinking wine by a fire in the heart of winter— you can’t help but bask in the timbre of her voice so close.

“Ugh, why is it so cold in here?” she complains in that same quiet tone you love.

It is very cold compared to the more lived in parts of the castle, but your body is warm enough from your sustained proximity and the rush of adrenaline she always causes in you.

“Oh, well, I can bear it for a little while if it means we won’t be interrupted.” Cassandra trails off and lifts your chin with a chilled finger.

Your lips meet and slide together in a practiced tango. Her manicured nails run over your throat and shoulders, making you shiver for reasons that have nothing to do with the temperature.

Both of you are starting to get really into it when Cassandra walks you back into the nearest wall. It happens to be a window, covered by a flimsy curtain. You have half a mind to realize it’s probably been forgotten slightly ajar, judging from the frost that graces your shoulder, but you have more important matters to focus on, like the brush of her tongue over your bottom lip.

Until Cassandra braces her bare hand over the unseen opening, to box you in like she usually does.

And-

She shrieks.

She jerks away so powerfully her back crash-lands into the painting on the far wall, knocking it down with its frame broken. You’re left there still and mute, watching in frozen horror as her face distorts into pure, raw anguish.

“Shut it!” Cassandra screams at you. “Shut it now, now!”

Your nerves suddenly kick into overdrive and you pull the window closed like your life depends on it.

What just… happened...?

In slow, cautious steps, you approach her. She’s clutching her hand like a wounded animal, baring its teeth to hide its vulnerability. It is the first time you see her like this. Void of control, bent over in hurt. Gasping.

Something in your chest breaks.

You look at her hand, to find her pale skin nearly crystallized, grey and breaking apart —like cheap china, like weak porcelain— into flies that drop to the floor, faintly twitching.

You thought… you thought they could just control the insects. That dissipating into swarms was just a trick allowed by their mutation. But now you realize, the flies are her body.

All this time trapped under the looming terror of the daughters… and escape was as easy as opening a window on them.

“Cassandra…?” you ask in a wavering voice when the initial burst of rage leaves her form.

She looks up at you, torn, when you hear the heavy sound of heels rapidly approaching.

“Cassandra?!” a different voice calls, this time, deep and authoritative. When Lady Dimitrescu rounds the corner in her immense height, your instincts scream to run.

But one look at Cassandra makes you stay.

Alcina halts for a moment to take in the scene. Then her lips curl downwards and bladed claws extend from her gloves, easily half your body in length.

Oh my… God…

“What did you do to my daughter?!” she demands and advances on you, but Cassandra gets in front of you before she can truly threaten your life.

“I brought her here, mother. It’s my fault.” she hurries to explain.

Alcina stares at you like she wants to crush you underfoot… but then softens, somewhat, at the look her daughter is giving her.

“Come with me. Now.” She says in a stern motherly tone that leaves no room for objections.

You clutch Cassandra’s uninjured hand, silently asking if she’ll be alright. She turns, looks at you for a moment, then nudges your head with hers.

“...I’ll see you later, Alexia.”

But, as it turns out... “later” is subjective.

In Alcina’s Private Chambers…

It is not often that Cassandra is reprimanded by herself.

She has never before been the only one at fault. She’s used to having her sisters beside her while Alcina scolds the three of them… except this time they’re outside the closed door and she is there to face their mother’s ire alone.

She can’t stay still under that yellowish-grey, narrowed gaze. Her fingers fidget with the edge of her robes’ sleeve to keep occupied, while Alcina takes that deep, calming breath she knows heralds no good things. Ever.

“Cassandra. Do you understand the severity of the situation?”

“Yes, mother.” She keeps her gaze downcast.

“Even if the maid didn’t harm you on purpose, she now knows your weakness. Yours and your sisters’. You were careless to allow this.” Cassandra feels anxiety rise up from the pit of her stomach and threaten to swallow her whole at that tone.

“I know, mother. Forgive me.” she replies quietly.

She wants to say that Alexia won’t use this knowledge against any of them, but she cannot bring herself to lie to Alcina. Because the truth is, Cassandra doesn’t know for a fact that she will not.

Why was that window open? Why?!

“You didn’t let me fix your mistake. I assume that means you will do it yourself?” her mother asks and Cassandra’s gaze snaps up.

What…?

At first, the temptation to chain Alexia up and watch as her blood drained from her lithe body had been sweet and strong. But now, at the thought of killing her –losing her— in whichever way, Cassandra is sick to her stomach. It is strange, because she feels like she is hyperventilating when she isn’t breathing at all and the world has tilted and—

Please don’t.

“Since when did you ever hesitate to kill, Cassandra?”

“…If.. that is what you ask of me…” she replies but she doesn’t sound like herself at all, not even to her own ears.

“How can I ask that of you and break your heart?” Alcina throws her arms up in exasperation. “I should have stopped this months ago but I thought it a fleeting fancy. I never imagined you would end up so attached.”

“I’m- I’m not-” she tries to protest, but her mother is having none of it.

“You’re not? You’re with her every day and she barely sports scratches anymore. Your eyes follow her everywhere when she’s in the same room. You instinctively lean closer whenever she comes over to refill your wine. Do you think I do not notice?” Of course. Of course she noticed.

Cassandra swallows, silent.

The memory of laying, too weak to move a single finger, on her deathbed along with Bela and Daniela pierces through Cassandra’s brain like a bullet. Her hand gives a violent spasm and flies break off to buzz frantically around her as she drops her forehead into her palm.

She’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown and it’s just so difficult without her sisters there. They’ve always been together, since the very beginning.

They were born together, learned to control their powers together, they died together-

Alcina is on one knee in front of her the next millisecond, stroking her hair and gathering her into her arms.

“Shh, calm down, my love.” she coos. “I’m sorry to be so harsh on you. I only want the best for you three.”

Cassandra doesn’t talk because she can’t, because she cannot wrap her head around what that flash inside her brain was.

“Oh, my Cassandra. I will not harm the maid if it will harm you, too.”

She waits for the eventual ‘but’.

“But I cannot let this dalliance continue any longer.”

It’s probably for the best. Her mother knows best. It is true, after all, that she has not been acting like herself, lately. So, yes, this decision is for her own good.

But.

Cassandra’s heart has the same reaction upon hearing it as being exposed to sub-zero winter air.

#Cassandra Dimitrescu #Cassandra Dimitrescu x oc #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village #where the baby of the family is baby #and Alcina is a mother hen to her three chicks #and she KNOWS #mothers know everything #fanfiction

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

only you and me

w/c: 6.7k

warnings: angst, mentions of weed, and some swearing

summary: whenever peter tries to tell you how he feels, harry gets in the way

a/n: ahhhh hi my loves! my mini writing break is over :,) life has been just a mess for me and i’ve been way more critical than usual about my work but i’m doing a little better and ready to get back into everything! this helped me a lot so i’m excited to share it with y’all <3 it’s also my first time writing harry osborn so lmk how i did lmaooofwfjj but yeah pls enjoy

“dude, she’s right there! just tell her!” ned whisper yells to peter, elbowing him for emphasis. they’re hidden behind a wall to watch you at your locker. you’re grabbing books while betty rants to you and mj rolls her eyes. “not now. she looks... busy,” peter gulps, gaze trailing down your body. he always finds excuses to put off telling you how he feels.

or rather, excuses find him. something comes up every time he gets the courage to do it. he has no idea why he’s so scared because he’s pretty sure you like him back. pretty sure. there are a few reasons why you might not. also, plenty why you might. you stay up late texting most nights, and you’ve even flirted a couple of times. it never fails to make peter blush. he trips over his words whenever he tries to flirt back.

he’s had feelings for you since the first time you two hung out alone. none of your other friends could make it, but you happily took him up on his offer to come over. you grinned through his whole apartment tour, asked about may and what she does. when peter showed you his room, you even complimented his movie posters, much to his surprise.

“really? you don’t think they’re, like, dorky?”

“no, peter. your interests aren’t dorky. everyone likes what they like.”

and, he liked you. he knew it from that point on. you’d know it too if the universe wouldn’t keep stopping him from saying that.

“she’s so...” peter pauses for a second. him and ned watch you pull betty in by her shoulders as if you’re going to kiss her. she dodges you, mj pushing her back, all three of you giggling about it before you grab betty’s hands and give her words of encouragement. “cool,” peter finishes, turning back to ned. “i mean, how she puts herself out there like that.”

“what’s stopping you from doing the same thing?” ned points out with a knowing smile that peter returns. you make it look so easy. whenever you’re comfortable around people, you can let go of any doubts you have. you stop worrying about what they might think and instead do what you want. it’s inspiring to peter, and heart warming getting to be one of the people you’re fully you with.

he wishes he could apply your wisdom himself.

peter shakes his head, staring down at the floor. “oh, you know. anxiety, fear of rejection. that fun stuff.” “so, yourself,” ned concludes, clapping peter’s backpack so hard it makes him stumble forward. betty and mj wave goodbye to you before heading to their first class. you’re still getting your things together at your locker. this is peter’s moment.

“come on, dude! y/n’s not busy anymore. you got this.” ned keeps his hand on peter’s back, adding on, “it’s been a year already.” “half a year,” peter corrects him in a mumble. he’s liked you for a really long time. “ok, i’m going. wish me luck.” he takes a deep breath and focuses in on you. “aw, dude. you don’t need it.” ned gives him one last pat on the back. “good luck, though.” “thanks, man. see you in trig.”

right as peter starts heading over, harry comes up behind you and covers your eyes. you squeal, jumping up and turning to him, laughing as you playfully hit at his chest. he brings you into a hug where your face is buried in his sweater and probably inhaling his super strong, super expensive cologne.

that’s what’s stopping peter, harry freaking osborn. his own friend.

peter quickly loses the tiny bit of confidence ned gave him. he figures it might be better to hold off on his confession and get an early start to class. unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen. harry has already spotted him and calls him over.

“hey, pete! come give us some love, eh?” harry beams, an arm slung around your shoulders and you smiling up at him. you direct your smile to peter when he slumps his way to your locker. his lips pull into a barely noticeable frown. you notice. “there’s my guy. why so down, sunshine?” harry offers his fist for a fist bump. peter gives it to him, eyes staying on you.

harry osborn. where to begin with such a specimen? he’s the perfect combination of everything you’d want in a guy. he gets good grades, he’s a star player on on the basketball team, nice to everyone and makes you laugh, popular yet fits right into your small group.

he was friends with you before the popular thing. what kicked it off was him making varsity basketball while only being a sophomore. yep, he’s unreal. since then, he’s been balancing his cool life and also hanging with “the nerds,” as he likes to call you. he got his own feelings for you along the way. peter can tell.

he’ll give you rides home, compliment how you look, basically act like your boyfriend without really being it. it absolutely infuriates peter because he doesn’t compare to harry in the slightest. if he were you and had the choice between himself or harry, he would pick harry.

it’s been a factor in why he hasn’t come clean about how he feels yet. he’s not trying to create a love triangle that he doesn’t stand a chance surviving in.

“for real, peter. you good?” you ask him, eyebrows knitted together in concern. “fine,” peter lies and musters up a smile. “i’m just tired. didn’t sleep too good last night.” you’re only more concerned now. this has been happening to him a lot lately. you search for his eyes. “again?”

“aw, man. you need something for it?” harry punches peter’s shoulder and lowers his voice. “i know this kid who-“ “harry, stop.” your words are serious, tone lighthearted. you throw your head back on his arm. “do you really know a kid?” “i’m not telling you,” he says in an overly happy voice, you humming the same way. peter feels like he’s third wheeling.

“i was telling pete.” harry looks at him expectantly, peter’s mouth dropping open while he thinks of what to say. harry likes to mess around. this is a different level, though. “no thanks. i- i shouldn’t. i’m-“ “relax, i don’t know a kid,” harry chuckles and points at peter. “your face right now.” it’s completely flushed. you knock into harry’s side.

“ok, well literally no one laughed. you’re scaring him,” you tell harry sternly. peter tugs tight on one of his backpack straps. he doesn’t feel like he’s third wheeling you two now. he feels like your kid. he’ll never let ned mettle in his love life ever again if this is where it gets him. “he knows i’m kidding, y/n/n. right?” harry checks with peter. you make a face at him that says you aren’t convinced.

he switches his arm from you to peter, drawing him into his side. “look, pete. i’m sorry. the only kid i know who’s selling is chocolates for his band trip.” you’re satisfied with that, grinning at both of them. peter forces a laugh and nods. “no worries, man. i gotta get to class.” “good boy,” harry lets him go. “bye, pete. we’ll see you at lunch,” you remind him. he gives you a tight lipped smile. “see you, y/n/n.”

you and harry continue practically spooning each other as soon as peter is out of sight.

what the hell is going on?

peter is back to being grumpy, plopping down in his seat next to ned. their teacher has the lesson plan pulled up on the smart board. ned looks from it to peter, almost jumping in his seat. “oh, you’re back already? how’d it go?” “it didn’t go,” peter huffs, copying down the aim. he’s only doing it so he doesn’t have to look ned in the eyes while telling him he bailed. again.

“you didn’t do it?” ned repeats, peter writing something about pi and a unit circle in his notebook. he bites the inside of his cheek. “you have to do it at some point,” ned sighs out and picks up his pencil. even he’s getting tired of this, and ned never gets tired of a good friends to lovers moment. “i think she likes harry,” peter says under his breath. “huh?” ned gasps.

peter doesn’t feel like explaining the extremely awkward moment he just finished living. although, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion. “y/n. he came over, and they kept hugging and whatever.” “they always do that,” ned almost scoffs, their trigonometry teacher moving to stand in front of the class. “yeah, but he had his arm around her the whole time we-“

the bell rings and cuts their conversation short. peter struggles to label the unit circle they learn about when his mind is filled to its capacity with images of you and harry all over each other. it’s not daydreaming. this is a nightmare. maybe, he actually will be having sleep problems.

peter’s morning is relatively decent after that. he gets to do an experiment with mj in chemistry, and she lets him take the lead for once. spanish is easy, health is okay, then he has a free period, then it’s lunch. things can only go downhill from here.

he thinks about hiding in the library until it’s over, but it’s the thought of harry eating your face that gets him to drag himself to the cafeteria.

flash is at the head of your table talking to harry when peter gets there. great, now he can’t eat his soggy chicken fingers in peace. “sounds dope. let’s go on the-“ flash stops saying what he was saying and nods at peter. “penis parker, you’re late.” peter takes his seat on your left, harry on your right. you glance over at him to make sure he’s okay. he acts like he doesn’t care, peeling open his milk carton.

“just text me later, man. get outta here,” harry dismisses flash, the two of them doing a bro handshake before he leaves. he’s well aware of his and peter’s history. he keeps them separate for the obvious reasons. peter appreciates it because saying no to flash is nearly impossible. he shouldn’t be so mad at harry, should he? he’s a good friend.

harry’s arm snakes around your waist and brings you closer to him. never mind.

“who’s up for sushi later?” he asks the table, everyone agreeing and saying how awesome that sounds. everyone except peter. you tap his shoulder with a small smile. “what about you, peter? you coming?” he realizes you’re all waiting for him to respond and puts down his milk. “uh, i can’t. homework,” he lamely answers.

“dude, we have homework, too. just do it a little later,” ned suggests, betty laying her head on his shoulder. you share a look with her, your eyes wide and a grin on your lips. that must have been what you were talking about this morning. she asked for boy advice. ned advice. why can’t this crap work out for peter?

“i really can’t. sorry, guys,” peter half heartedly apologizes.

he misses the disappointment that crosses your features because he’s pouting at his lunch again.

“homework, huh?” mj tests him, squinting as she takes a sip of apple juice. harry nudges peter’s side with two fingers. “you still mad about the sleeping thing?” “sleeping thing? what sleeping thing?” betty wonders while ned rests his head against hers. a quiet laugh slips out of you as you lean in to tell her.

“peter said he couldn’t sleep last night, so harry offered him...” you mime rolling a joint. “i said no,” peter clarifies, rolling his eyes at the inevitable teasing he’s about to get. none of you have even smoked besides harry. you’re being annoying about it. “of course you did,” mj sighs and kicks her feet up on the table. “unrelated to what y/n just said... harry, i have insomnia.”

everyone bursts into laughter at that, betty shoving her side and you pulling harry by his torso as he pretends to go into his backpack. peter wants nothing to do with any of this. he usually enjoys joking around with the group, even if it’s at his expense because it’s from a place of love.

today feels like you’re straight up making fun of him. harry might as well invite flash to join in.

“alright, alright, alright. enough of the weed talk,” harry decides, you removing your arms from him and grabbing your coffee. “you’re such a bad influence.” your voice drips with sarcasm. you bend the straw and take a sip while scooting closer to peter. “you really can’t come later? i feel like i’ve barely seen you today.” that’s on harry. “i wish i could, y/n/n,” peter exhales. “i’ll text you later, okay?”

you don’t get to answer because mj tugs on your arm, distracting you from peter. she explains how she has to do an art project on what it means to be a woman and needs help brainstorming ideas. you’re full of them, offering up an interesting perspective for her to use. peter smiles to himself as he listens in. you find a new way to impress him every day.

he should tell you that.

“hey, y/n?” “listen to her! you’re seriously my idol,” betty gushes, so loudly you don’t hear peter. not a single thing has gone in his favor at this table. he gives up.

peter locks himself in his room when he gets home from his overall terrible day. he does homework like he said he would, only taking a break for dinner, giving one word replies to may’s questions about school. he’d much rather be having sushi with you. he would’ve gone if the others didn’t.

after dinner, it’s back to grumbling and scribbling down answers. there’s a knock at peter’s door around ten o’clock, which he assumes is may saying goodnight. “i’ll be done in a few minutes, may! love you.” “it’s y/n,” you reply, the smile clear in your voice. his eyes go comically wide. that’s the last thing he expected to hear. “oh. uh, come in.”

you’re holding a small takeout bag, shutting the door behind you and walking over to his desk. you meet his twinkling eyes in the dim light that hits off his walls. from his open window, you faintly hear cars as they rush by and honk their horns in the distance, accompanied by a fresh breeze. it’s cozy, safe. it’s peter.

“hey. what’re you doing here?” peter questions, leaving his pencil in his binder and shutting it. you shake around the plastic bag. “i saved you a roll.” he bites back a smile, getting up from his chair. “may let me in. she was really chill about it,” you continue and hold out the sushi for him. “it’s a california roll. i wasn’t sure what you wanted, and everyone likes those.”

peter lets his smile spread out and takes the bag from you. “thanks, y/n/n. i was honestly hoping one of you would have leftovers.” you laugh softly, peter setting the bag down on his desk. he scratches the back of his neck. “did you guys have fun?” “yeah. i missed you, though.” you clasp your hands behind your back. “everyone did.”

“i feel bad i didn’t go. just... things felt off today,” peter admits the real reason he stayed home, you letting out a breath. “it was harry, wasn’t it? god, he was being so weird.” your arms drop back to your sides. “there’s a difference between playing around and actually upsetting people.” by people, you mean peter. no one else seemed too bothered by him. “i’m sorry, peter. i tried to make him stop.”

“no, you don’t have to apologize,” peter assures you sweetly, grabbing one of your hands. “it’s not your fault, okay? he probably didn’t realize what he was doing. the jokes landed.” he’s referring to ned, mj, and betty finding harry’s comments hilarious. you lace your fingers with peter’s and frown. “this isn’t like him. maybe he’s stressed about a game.” your gaze drifts off to the side, what you see getting you to perk up.

“is that new?” you ask peter, leading him by his hand over to a poster he put up recently. it’s for 13 going on 30. you showed it to him a couple of weeks ago, and he clearly liked it a lot. any movie that makes it to peter’s wall is a special one. “mhm. i got it literally right after you went home the night we watched,” he chuckles and looks over at you while you study the poster.

you turn to face peter again, keeping your hand tight in his. “were you gonna tell me something earlier? at lunch?” he’s confused for a second, then he remembers your ideas for mj’s art project. the fact that you cared enough to bring it up after all these hours makes his stomach do summersaults in the best way. he shrugs and gives you a smile.

“the stuff you were saying about femininity and how there are so many ways to define it,” peter starts, you grinning back at him, at how he took an interest in what you were saying. “you’re so smart, y/n. you make me wanna be better.” a light pink dusts his cheeks. “peter, you’re a feminist?” you coo, joking but genuinely wondering at the same time. he squeezes your hand. “duh.”

“i thought so,” you nod, taking in the rest of what he said. “you think i’m smart? i trust you because you’re way smarter.” peter pffts in response. “i’m only good at, like, physics. you’re good at things that really matter. smart in that way.” you’re feeling your own face get hot. you swing yours and peter’s hands back and forth. “why are you the nicest person ever?”

the answer to that, may, peeks her head into the room. “hey, kids. it’s getting late.” she notices your intertwined hands and shoots peter a smirk. “i thought you were a cool aunt,” he teases, you sadly letting go of him. “she is. thanks for having me over so late,” you tell may on your way to the door. “oh, stop it. you can come over any time.” she puts a hand on your arm. “thank you so much,” you murmur back.

you walk backwards to the doorway, may leaving you two to say your goodbyes. “wanna hang out only you and me? on friday maybe?” that should make up for everything earlier. “yeah, of course. friday is perfect,” peter agrees and bounces on his feet as excitement takes over him. “thanks again for the sushi.”

“no problem. goodnight.” it’s taking every last bit of power in you to not freak out. “night. text me when you get home.” he presses his tongue into his cheek. you slowly pull the door shut. “ok, i will. bye!” it closes, leaving peter skipping across his room to his bed on one side and you doing a little happy dance on the other.

the next day at school, everything is back to normal. honestly, better than normal. your hangout with peter is tomorrow, and he’s planning on telling he likes you then. he already talked it over with ned. he’s relieved it’s finally happening, especially since him and betty have their own thing. she’ll be taking up most of his free time from here.

your group is spending lunch outside today, lounging across a picnic table, surrounded by trees and the shining sun in a bright blue sky. mj sits on the table and has her feet on the bench, which would usually bug peter to no end. he doesn’t mind this time because it takes up enough room that harry has to sit with ned and betty instead of you. you lean into peter’s side and stab a piece of lettuce from your salad.

“it’s so nice out,” betty sighs, ripping off half her cookie and giving it to ned. “we should ditch.” “oh my god, you sound like harry,” you groan between bites of salad. peter lets out a breathy laugh, you looping your arm through his. he grins down at where you’re linked. harry crosses his own arms over his chest. “she wishes.” betty only nods because her mouth is full of m&m’s.

“nah, seriously. i’d take us out somewhere, but i have practice after school.” he speaks quieter than he normally does, less confident. your theory about him having basketball drama was right. “what did we tell you? talk about the sports shit with your sports friends,” mj complains, sitting back on her hands. she glances at harry over her shoulder and catches ned mouthing you can’t say that.

sitting criss cross, she spins around to face harry, unenthusiastically saying, “what i meant was, you sound upset. what’s wrong?” harry gets into it right away, like he’s been waiting for someone to ask. “coach says there might be a scout at the next game. it’s a really good opportunity even though i don’t have to worry about... college yet.” the word makes him cringe.

“oh, damn. that’s a big deal. scary,” mj snorts, turning back to you and peter. her behavior makes ned internally face palm. “that’s awesome, dude. you’re gonna play amazing like always.” he gives harry a high five, who smiles nervously in response. he’s never nervous. “thanks, bro. you guys wanna come and watch?” he’s never invited you to one of his games before either.

this isn’t a group of friends that likes to spend their weekends in bleachers while angry teens shout around them.

“definitely. we’ll be there to support you, harry,” betty answers for everyone, ned pecking her cheek in satisfaction. mj cusses to herself before replying. “if i absolutely must, sure.” only you and peter haven’t said anything yet. he’s been chewing his lower lip, and you your salad. harry looks between you two hopefully. it’s more so at you, which peter doesn’t like.

“y/n? pete? it would help a lot, i’m serious.” he taps his fingers on the table until one of you speaks up. you’re the one who does. “i’ll go. this is pretty huge, right? congrats.” you reach across the table and squeeze his shoulder while simultaneously tightening your arm around peter’s. he takes that as a cue. “i’ll go, too. happy for you, man.”

though peter isn’t currently in the best place with harry, he should show his support by showing up. it can’t be too bad since the rest of you will be there.

a loud, long chuckle leaves harry as he hops up from his bench and comes to yours and peter’s. he bends over and wraps both of you in a hug from behind at the same time. his arms are around each of your shoulders, holding you so close his cheeks are squished against either of your heads. you giggle at that, peter finding himself laughing along and reaching back to ruffle harry’s hair.

staying mad at him is one of the world’s greatest challenges.

“you’re saints, both of you. my angels.” he kisses the back of your head, then lays one right on peter’s cheek, leaving him blushing red and grinning. “what about the rest of us? i never go to shit like this,” mj huffs and seems genuinely offended. harry wiggles his eyebrows. “you want a kiss?” his offer gets her flustered, which she can’t manage to hide. that’s a first.

“shut up. i’m just saying... never mind.” mj glares at you and peter, ned and betty making kissing noises behind her. “someone change the subject.” peter steps in. “when’s the game, harry?” he asks, harry snapping and waving his finger. “tomorrow! cancel your plans, kiddos.” “like we had any,” betty retorts.

some of you did. that was going to be peter’s hangout with you.

ned smiles sympathetically at peter before betty is getting his attention. you‘re unfazed and rambling to harry how proud you are of him.

did last night mean nothing? was it an empty gesture? were you only doing it out of guilt? peter must have read your visit wrong. he’s been wrong the whole time he’s liked you. you don’t like him back, you pity him. harry is who you’re really interested in.

may always says he should trust his instincts.

peter pulls his arm from yours suddenly, swinging his backpack onto his shoulders. you’re taken back because it’s so out of no where. you stop talking to harry so you can figure out his deal. “where are you going?” “bell’s gonna ring,” peter mumbles and picks up his lunch tray. he heads to the garbage can without another word or goodbye to anyone.

“i’m gonna go check on him,” you tell harry, already getting up from the bench. “you do that,” he acknowledges and calls mj’s name again.

peter tosses his mostly untouched food in the trash, seeing you make your way over from the corner of his eye. he tries to speed walk inside so he doesn’t have to talk to you. you’re too quick, cornering him between the door and brick wall.

“we still have ten minutes,” you state, worry flashing across your face. he’s avoiding you. well, attempting to. “what’s wrong?” peter gulps before saying anything. “my next class is on the other side of the-“ “no,” you cut him off. “what’s really wrong?”

he doesn’t feel like having this discussion. it’s bad enough he came to the realization his feelings are one sided. must he break that down for you so soon?

you toy with your sleeve while you speak because peter doesn’t. “i thought you and harry were fine again. i mean, he kissed you.” peter clenches his jaw so hard he can imagine the sound of it cracking. “it’s not about harry.” “what, then? what the fuck happened?” your sleeves are now balled in your fists. you hate it when peter does this angsty routine.

he keeps his voice low and calm so he doesn’t come off as jealous or hurt. he’s both of those things. “the game is tomorrow. friday. when we were supposed to hang out.” you meet peter’s eyes with nothing but remorse in yours. “i... i forgot,” is all you have to say.

you feel awful. he’s had a tough couple of days, and you fell through on your promise to cheer him up.

“clearly,” peter remarks, voice sharp. the way you’re looking at him makes him think he won’t like what’s coming. “peter, we have to go,” you almost whine. “i��m really sorry, i am, but this is a big night for harry. he needs us there.” peter stays silent. you’re twisting the knife deeper into him with every word. “i wouldn’t be cancelling if this wasn’t important.”

now you’re cancelling?

you reach for peter’s hand, but he shoves it into his pocket. that stings for you and him. “please, peter. we’ll hang out at the game, i swear.” this is the last chance you’ve got, so you pile it on. “harry won’t even be there, technically. he’ll... he’ll be on the court.” peter hadn’t thought about that. he lets himself unclench, starting to see the appeal. you add one more thing to lighten the mood and persuade him.

“i’ll buy you popcorn, all you can eat.” it’s that easy. cracking a smile, peter accepts. he’ll deal with his unresolved, unreciprocated feelings after he stuffs his face, courtesy of you. “you better. i’m gonna need it for this long ass game.” your face lights up, grabbing his wrist in both hands.

“so, you’ll come?” “i’ll be there,” he confirms. you throw your arms around his neck. he laughs into the hug and holds you by your middle. “i promise this’ll be the first and last game we ever go to,” you say and mean it. harry is lucky you’re even suffering through this a first time. “thank god,” peter exhales, resting his chin on your head.

that interaction leaves peter confused as hell. you’re crushing his mind and soul one minute, then hugging him the next. you were making him feel so special lasts night, and treating harry the same way today. it’s so jumbled that he isn’t sure if he’s in the friend zone or something more zone.

there are a ton of mixed signals coming his way, and he sucks at reading people as is.

he can’t take another second of this. he’d rather you come out and say you like harry already because it’s torture. knowing you don’t want him in that way would at least eliminate the possibility of anything happening between you two, and allow him to stop driving himself insane.

he’d be able to stop taking it out on harry, too.

the hold you have on peter, that you’re oblivious to, rules his every thought and decision. he’s constantly analyzing what you say to him, debating whether or not your affection is simply platonic. it’s been half a year of this madness, the night of harry’s game blurring every line so much more.

your group arrives a bit early to find seats and hype harry up before he plays. peter gets there after all of you because he’s not exactly in a rush to watch sweaty guys be aggressive. there’s only one upside, which is spending the night with you... and everyone else.

he steps into the gym that’s filling up fast with family members, friends, and the college scout harry was talking about. midtown has a different feeling to it at night. the smell of pencils is oddly stronger, and it’s a lot less intimidating.

cheerleaders are huddled in a circle while the team supervisor has them run their chants. the “leading official,” who peter thought was called a referee, takes his place off to the side. coaches give their players last minute instructions, players fool around with each other, a lot is going on.

peter scans the room for you, and grins a toothy grin when you catch his eyes. you’re sitting by yourself in one of the middle bleachers, only a bag of skinny pop in your lap. you return the smile once you spot him and wave him over.

“i don’t know why, but i thought they’d have an actual concession stand,” you explain the lack of fresh, buttery popcorn as peter takes a seat next to you. he catches the prepackaged bag you toss him. “it’s just a snack table.” “works either way,” peter hums and pokes the bag. “i’m not sure skinny pop is all i can eat, though.” “it’s good!” you defend the snack you chose for him.

“i’m kidding! you’re right, it’s kind of addicting.” he puts it by his feet for now and gives you a half smile. “you’re welcome,” you deadpan in a playful tone. “thanks.” he narrows his eyes. “where’s everyone else?” “right,” you twist around and gesture to the bleacher above you. mj is gloomily seated near the back. ned and betty are a few behind you.

“i told them to find their own seats so we can sit together, alone.” you look over at peter and move ever so slightly closer. “welcome to our friday hangout. just the two of us.” “aw, you didn’t have to do that,” peter laughs out, his knee bumping yours. “but, i’m happy you did.” he goes to put an arm around you, then harry comes racing up the stairs.

just the two of you didn’t last so long.

“y/n, i’m freaking out,” harry announces, zooming through your row to get over to you. he stops once he’s standing in front of peter and shakes him by his shoulder. ��hey, pete. you made it.” “yup,” peter replies, pressing his lips together. you wince at his reaction, then quirk an eyebrow at harry. “you’re freaking out? why?”

harry sits down between you and peter, blissfully unaware of the moment he interrupted.

“i found the scout. he’s fucking terrifying as fuck. this super ripped guy, looks like he’d rather be anywhere else,” he talks quietly, like the man will hear him. “he’s not the only one,” peter says to himself, kicking around his bag of popcorn to pass time. you ignore him and grimace.

“shit. wait, how do you know it’s him? did they tell you?” you’re not sure how these things go. harry casually shrugs a shoulder. “dude has a clipboard. seems legit to me.” he gives you a cocky smile. “he’s also in the row before mj. that’s how i noticed. um...” his back now facing peter, he whispers something in your ear that makes you giggle.

peter’s face scrunches up as the spark of anger the past few days have lit reignites itself.

when harry pulls away, you motion for him to come closer with your index finger, cupping your hand around his ear and speaking into it.

nope, no more. peter is entirely about to explode. you cancelled your plans so you can force him to watch basketball, you sweet talk him so he’ll let it go, and you’re running right back to harry after all of that? what the hell does that mean?

peter stands up from his seat. “y/n, we need to talk,” he demands, you moving away from harry to respond. “ok, gimme a minute. we’re-“ “no, we need to talk now.” you don’t have time to refute because he’s taking your arm and dragging you away. harry squints at you in utter confusion.

“um, have a good game! we’ll talk later,” you call back to him, walking with peter even though you have no idea what his issue is and aren’t a fan of how he’s acting.

he releases you once you’re in the hallway. you make a point of harshly yanking your arm back, a scowl painting your lips. “jesus, peter. i was having a conversation.” “do you like harry?” peter blurts out. you’re so shocked at his abruptness that you don’t give him much to work with, only, “what?” “do you like harry?” he asks you again, this time less accusing and more curious.

“do i like...” you’re too aware of the seemingly hundreds of people surrounding you to answer comfortably. “can we talk about this somewhere else?” “sure,” peter nods, letting you lead the way since he did to get out here. you two go down the hall and choose the first room you see, which happens to be the custodian’s closet. it’s thankfully unlocked.

things were tense between you and peter on the way over, and it’s physically mirrored when you step into the room, air thick and smelling of lemon cleaning supplies. you tug on the string hanging down to turn on the light. it casts a faded glow, leaving you in mostly darkness. you sort of like it. this feels more intimate, which is fitting for what you’re both about to say.

neither one of you knows where to begin. peter’s question is ringing in the back of your mind, and you could touch on that, but there’s more to it than a simple yes or no. you don’t have to worry about it because peter gets his words out first.

“i think harry likes you, and i think you like him back,” peter restarts, already sounding deflated by what he came up with. “he doesn’t, and i don’t.” you take a step towards him. “he likes mj.” it’s peter’s turn to be shocked. the hint of a smile sets on your lips. “that’s what we were talking about. harry asked if he should take her to dinner after the game, and i said yes.”

this is going better than he expected.

“mj is the one who likes him, not me,” you reiterate and watch some life enter peter again, a tiny bit. he’s coming around, and he wants to believe you. his trust issues don’t. “but, you’re so... touchy with each other. the hugging the other day?” he mentions. you tilt your head to the side in amusement. “friends can’t hug?”

to be fair, you hugged peter yesterday. that’s a point rightfully shut down.

“he calls you pretty,” peter tries, raising both eyebrows. you have to laugh at this one. “you call may pretty.”

obviously, peter’s analysis skills could use some serious improvements. it sounds like he had the right idea, wrong person. your relationship with harry is platonic. hell, he’s crushing on a whole different person. this actually opens up the possibility of you liking peter in the romantic way, of him being in the something more zone. he had it backwards.

in case peter isn’t convinced yet, and because you really want to, you use one more trick to prove to him you don’t like harry.

“do me and harry do this?” your lips speak for you, colliding with peter’s unexpectedly yet easily. he feels like he’s floating, like he’s in some sort of magical wonderland until it hits him that this is real, and he should probably kiss you back. he does so softly and tangles his fingers in your locks. his hand supports the back of your head as the kiss goes on.

you push forward so your bodies are almost fused together, the closest you can be while you hold his jaw. peter breaks the kiss for a short breather, going back in without more than a moment passing. this one is feverish, his free arm looping around your lower back, hand resting on the small of it. you let out a giggle against his swollen lips and stroke your thumb over his jawline.

he’s been waiting to do this for the longest time, but he doesn’t have to tell you that. it shows in how eager he was to reciprocate, his shyness blossoming into passion. you feel yourself melting under his touch, the kiss eventually becoming a series of short pecks. peter gives you the final one. his pink lips form a grin when you pull apart. your hands stay on each other, not in a rush to go anywhere.

“woah, i like you so much,” peter laughs out. the words roll off his tongue naturally. “you know i like you,” you drawl, smiling at him, a full body smile while you caress his skin. he winds both arms around you and dips his head down to steal another kiss. you’re loving what’s happening. however, you don’t feel like making out while dirty brooms stare at you. you should take this back home.

“wanna get out of here? i do,” you suggest, voice muffled from his lips. they detach from yours and brush your cheek gently. peter makes a funny face. “hm, i thought we had to come. harry needs us,” he says what you did yesterday, earning a groan back. “you’re joking.” “i’m not. what kind of friends would we be, ditching him like that?”

he’s going to end you one day.

“yeah, no. i have no idea how basketball works, and i’d like to keep it that way,” peter drops the act, pressing his fingers into your sides. “i’ve been so mean to harry. i was...” “a dick?” you finish for him. it’s more of a statement than a question. to soften the blow, you rub his cheek with the tips of your fingers. “yup. he’s gonna think i hate him or something if we don’t stay.” his formerly smiley face is frowning.

“harry of all people will understand after we tell him our reasons,” you reassure him, nudging under his chin with your nose. “besides, he has other things to worry about. mj, the scout. it’s fine.” peter considers it, ultimately giving in to you like he always does, resting his forehead on yours. “i guess so. less distractions for him, yeah.” “exactly. that’s what i wanna hear.”

having his approval, you unwind yourself from him and head to the door. his fingers wrap around your wrist gently. “what about my popcorn?” a giggle escapes your lips. “you’re still on that?” “you said all i can eat!” his voice comes out high pitched, adorably high pitched.

“fine. i might have those bags you put in the microwave.” you smile when his fingers lock with yours, peter kissing the side of your head.

“even better. let’s go home.”

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker smut #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine

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works-of-fanfiction · 3 years

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“He’s the Best.” - 90s!Graham Coxon x Reader

Summary: Graham struggles with his self-esteem within the band and the reader tries to cheer him up.

Requested by: Anon. I hope you like this <3

Warnings: Swearing (literally once).

Word Count: 3.3k - a bit of a longer oneshot from me! I didn’t mean for it to be this long.

A/N: I’ve been writing this and putting it off for days because I just don’t know if I like it, but I don’t want to restart it. Argh… I hope someone enjoys this cheese fest.

* Gif credits to the linked creator

_______________

No one in this life is born ‘better’ than anybody else. It’s not a competition or a game of comparison. Every single human on this planet has their own unique qualities that make them interesting and most importantly, worthy. However, humans sadly aren’t wired to see those qualities in themselves. They spend the majority of their lives obsessing over others; wondering if they’re as talented as the next man, or if they’ll ever look as good as whatshername. Sometimes, it gets to a point where even the deepest of friendships can become strained due to one or more parties comparing themselves to another’s achievements.

And seeing Graham go through exactly that, has been killing me. There was a time when everything Graham and Damon did together, was truly that - together. Every single melody, riff, lyric - it was theirs. Neither one did more work than the other, neither was more musically talented. They were both kids crammed inside a Portakabin with their very first instruments, strumming and plucking and making probably rather bothersome noise. They had no idea what was to become of their lunchtime jam sessions and after school practices. Both were just excited to have a friend that liked the same things as them, and enjoyed the noise the other was making.

But Graham has since become a shadow of who he once was around Damon - he’s become Damon’s shadow. Or so he thinks.

Being in a band with a boisterous frontman like Damon was bound to become hard work for the other members at one point or another, but I never thought it would affect Graham like this. It’s getting harder to communicate with him, and I know it’s not his fault but I’m running out of things to say to fill the silences. There’s only so many times I can ask if he wants a cup of tea, or tell him about the encounter I had at the bus stop earlier that day. I’m sick of hearing my own voice, so I can’t imagine how he must feel. The silence seems to be the only thing he wants; he doesn’t write anymore, he hardly plays guitar outside of work commitments, and he hasn’t picked up his sketchbook in weeks. He just seems to stare at the TV or sit on the sofa with his head buried in a book that’s stuck on the first chapter. I watched him the other day and in forty-five minutes, he turned the page once. I bet if I asked him about the story he wouldn’t be able to recall a single character’s name, never mind the plot.

Watching him struggle with his self-esteem is crushing, and I don’t want him to live another second feeling the way he does. I know it may take a while for him to find himself again, but if I can do anything to help move things along, it’s worth a try. I’d drop everything for Graham in a heartbeat.

“I dropped those music stands off today. Did you get them?” Dave asks, his voice a little crackly on the other end of the phone.

“I did, thank you!” I chime, balancing the phone between my shoulder and ear as I assemble the very same stands.

“Oh, good. I was a little worried about leaving them outside. I thought somebody would take them… What do you need them for anyway?”

“That’s something for me to know and you to find out, Dave.” I laugh, tightening one last knob on the second stand and straightening it out. I stand back and admire my handy work, smiling at the prospect of what they are to become.

“Alright, alright. Well, I hope they come in handy! I’ll see you later.”

“Thanks again. See you next week!”

We both hang up and I grab the stands, climbing up the stairs and into the spare room, placing them in their desired places. Grabbing two pieces of sheet music, I slot them onto the stands neatly and adjust them until they’re perfect. With one last thing to check, I turn on the projector I borrowed from an old university friend and let the film play out on the blank wall opposite. I mess with the sound a little, making sure it’s loud enough before rewinding the footage to the beginning and turning it off until later.

Standing in the middle of the room, I turn around and admire everything on the walls. Everything from lyrics to old album art concepts, to still life paintings from Graham’s time at Goldsmith’s. Beside the music stands, there’s crates filled with records, decorated with lyrics scribbled onto scraps of paper, some in Graham’s handwriting and others in mine. I of course, couldn’t resist writing them out in various colours and covering them in star-shaped stickers. The finishing touch is a large beanbag against the wall for us to sit and watch the projector from. I fluff up the beanbag for the thousandth time before heading downstairs to wait for Graham to get back.

It takes around two hours for Graham to arrive home. As soon as I hear his taxi pull up outside, I jump up from the sofa and head into the kitchen to flick the kettle on. Nerves bubble through me as I anticipate his entry. It’s impossible to predict how Graham’s going to be feeling on any given day. He could come through the door and speak to me as normal, or he could disappear into his studio until he’s tired enough to head to bed. Through the rumbling of the kettle I listen out for the door, fingers impatiently tapping on the counter as my gaze fixates on a magpie outside, shakily balancing on the washing line. A second joins it and I smile, muscle memory taking over as I pour the boiled water into two cups, not taking my eyes off of the birds.

“Hi.” Graham’s voice peeps behind me. Putting the kettle down, I turn around with a warm smile on my face. Despite everything Graham has been going through, seeing him come through that door every day is still my favourite sight. Having him come home to me will simply never get old. I don’t know what I’ll do when he has to go out on tour again in a few months.

“Hey.” I breathe, the sides of my face already beginning to feel sore from the ridiculous grin stuck on it. He smiles back, the expression not quite reaching his eyes but I know he means well. He’s trying. “You go and sit down. I’ll bring these in.” I gesture to the brewing teas on the counter and he nods, hanging his bag on the nearest kitchen chair and leaving the room without another word. I finish the drinks as quickly as possible, grabbing the stack of takeaway menus from the junk drawer and bringing them with me, the pieces of paper clamped between my teeth as I concentrate on carrying the two steaming hot cups in my hands.

Setting the cups down on the coffee table, I toss the menus onto the sofa next to where Graham is very aggressively, trying to pull his Docs off. “Need a little help?” I ask, laughing as I kneel down and bat his hands out of the way. “It would help if you untied them.”

“It’s easier to leave them tied.”

“Oh, really?” I scoff, gesturing to his feet still stuck in the cherry red boots. The laces are a complete mess with three bulky knots in them. I sit down cross-legged on the carpet, carefully plucking and unravelling each knot whilst Graham buries his head in the takeaway menus. “How do you even - “ I struggle, pulling at the frayed shoelace whilst trying not to damage it further, “- get these things on?” With one last tug, the first lace loosens and I’m able to slide the boot off with ease. Graham’s face pops out from behind the menu, a side-smile plastered onto his lips and a cheeky glint in his eyes. I know he wants to laugh.

“Shall we get Indian tonight?” He changes the subject, flipping over the tatty piece of bright orange paper as he squints at the options. He always orders the same thing, yet still insists on reading the whole menu front to back. He does it for every restaurant.

“Indian sounds good.” I nod, pulling the second boot off and shoving them to the side. “I’ll call them now.” Jumping up to grab the phone, I type the number in from memory and hold it up to my ear.

“What’s the rush?” Graham mouths and I hush him when somebody answers. I order the usual along with some extras and give them our address, despite them not even really needing it anymore. The phone call is no longer than a minute and Graham sits staring at me, nose scrunched in confusion. “Are you going to tell me what’s going - “

“Follow me.” I blurt out, stretching my arm towards him and rising onto my tiptoes out of excitement. He stands slowly, shrugging off his jacket and leaving it on the sofa. “I was going to wait until we’d had our food, but I have to show you now.”

“Show me what?” He asks as I grab his wrist and drag him up the stairs. We squeeze up the narrow staircase, almost tripping each other over a couple times until we stop on the landing, feet overlapping one another’s on the small square of carpet.

“I know you haven’t really been yourself lately.” I start, my fingers slipping from Graham’s wrist to entwine with his. He looks down, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes watch our hands as I lightly stroke the back of his thumb in an attempt to relax him. He has a habit of tensing up whenever I broach the subject. “So I wanted to remind you just how great you are.”

I watch his face intently, the corners of his mouth twitching and trying to smile. With my free hand, I open the door and flick the light on, pulling Graham into the room with me. His hand slips from my grasp and I back up to stand against the wall, watching as he takes in the room around him and everything in it.

He walks to the music stands first, fingers tracing the notes on the pages, flipping them over then back again. He walks towards the canvas on the back wall - a woodland painting he’d won a prize for back in college - running his hand over the textured patch of paint that forms the trees. I nervously bite the back of my thumb as he kneels down to sift through the records in the large black case below, flicking through every Blur album and single released to this day. My favourite lyrics are scattered on sheets of paper all over the ground, and he picks up the second verse from Coffee & TV. “You’ve always loved this one.” He says, turning to me and smiling.

“I happen to really like the guy who sings it.”

“He must be pretty good then.”

“Oh, he’s the best.” Resting my foot against the wall, I kick my body forward and stand straight, joining Graham beside the projector.

“What’s this for?” He asks, hands hovering near the buttons but not daring to touch anything. I take his hands in mine and give them a loving squeeze.

“Sit down and I’ll show you.” I chirp and he sinks down onto the beanbag. I mess with the projector until the sound starts to creep in, stretching over to switch off the light. Graham shuffles to the side to make some room for me on the beanbag and I flop down beside him, nestling into his side.

The image from the projector is surprisingly clear against the wall, although could’ve been improved had I borrowed a screen from somewhere. A variety of different clips play out in front of us, ranging from Graham performing onstage to snippets of his band members talking and praising their guitarist. I try my hardest to focus on the film in front of me, but I can’t help glancing over at Graham to see his reactions. His brows are furrowed, but not necessarily in a bad way - he’s focused, fully concentrating on everything he’s seeing and hearing.

I fidget with my hands, twiddling my thumbs and quietly cracking my knuckles. Graham notices this and grabs my left hand, squeezing it tightly and bringing it over to rest in his lap. Laying my head on his shoulder, I press a kiss onto his sleeve, rubbing my head against him and breathing in his familiar scent. He lays his head on top of mine, but never looks away from the video playing on the wall. Absentmindedly, his fingertips dance on the back of my hand, the drumming following the beat of Song 2 as it plays from the projector. I too can’t help bopping along to the beat, my foot tapping softly on the carpet.

The video closes with one final clip, a message I recorded for Graham. Too embarrassed to watch myself, my focus stays on him as I squeeze his hand a little tighter and snuggle up as close as possible. The picture begins to fade and the sound plays out until there’s no footage left, and the whirring of the projector becomes background noise in the room. Graham doesn’t say anything at first, but as I try to stand to turn the projector off, he pulls me back down onto the beanbag and rotates his body to face mine.

“Hey.” I whisper, my right hand supporting his cheek as he leans into me, his eyes closed and lips pressed into a line. Our bodies slot into one another’s on the beanbag, the very little space between us growing warmer by the second.

Graham releases a deep breath, his eyes slowly opening again with a small smile spreading across his face. It’s hard to see him properly in the dimly lit room, but I could never mistake those big brown eyes staring at me. “I can’t believe you did all of this for me.” He says, his voice low as he leans in close to speak like we’re the only two people who matter inside a crowded room.

“I wanted to show you how incredible you are. You’ve been so hard on yourself and I just - “ As I speak, tears start to well up in my eyes and I look up to the ceiling to try and stop them from falling. I’d already told myself earlier that I wouldn’t cry, because I don’t want Graham to think he’s upset me. I press at my eyes lightly with my fingertips in an attempt to push the tears away. “I can’t stand seeing you this way because you don’t deserve to feel like this. If it wasn’t for you, Blur wouldn’t exist! Everything you’ve all achieved wouldn’t have happened.” My voice begins to shake and I feel Graham’s hand on my arm, rubbing it gently to try and calm me down.

“Y/N.” He starts, before reaching up to turn on the light. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust, before my gaze falls to the ground to avoid his. If I look at him properly, I know I’ll start bawling. “Look at me. Please.”

“I can’t. I can’t because I’ll cry, and then you’ll get upset and I don’t want to make you feel any worse than wha - “

“You won’t upset me. Y/N, I’m sorry I’ve - “

“No, Graham. Don’t apologise.” I grip onto his shirt tightly, my fingers tangling in the fabric. Graham bows his head and nudges it against mine, edging closer until he pushes my head up with his and our noses are almost touching. We both open our eyes, our faces too close that my vision is distorted and I’m seeing double. I pull back, sniffling once and dabbing at my eyes again, still not allowing any tears to actually emerge.

“I’m sorry,“ he starts and I sigh at his words, but he hushes me by holding his finger up to my face, “for putting you through this. I was so caught up in my own head that I didn’t realise how it was making you feel.”

“Graham, this isn’t about me.”

“But it affects you. Bloody hell, if I had to live with this miserable twat - “ he points to himself and I scoff, slapping the back of his hand playfully. “ - I’d have given up by now.”

“I would never give up on you.” My voice is barely above a whisper, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. Graham goes silent again, staring down at our joined hands and moving his thumbs around. I nudge his head with mine in the same way he did previously and he sniffles, his chest rising and immediately falling again. “Graham?” I bring my hand to his chin and push his face up to find his eyes watery, and cheeks significantly more red compared to a moment ago.

“God, look at me. What the hell are you still doing with me, ay? I’m a bleeding mess.” He sniffs, roughly wiping tears off of his cheeks with the backs of his hands.

“Because I wouldn’t want to be with anybody else.”

“Not even - “

“Ah! Stop right there. There’ll be no more of that.” I take his hands away from his face, holding onto them loosely. “Graham Coxon, you are the best thing to ever happen to me. And I’ll give you a free pass to slap me silly for being so cheesy.” I laugh, his grip on my hands tightening as he awkwardly slides closer on the beanbag, his body sinking into it at a strange angle and pulling me with him. “I love you.”

Within a second, Graham’s hands are on both sides of my face, pulling me in for a kiss; the kind of kiss that feels like the person is pouring their entire heart out to you. Like the kiss between the main characters of a movie, when they’ve just ran across a field or a busy road to collide with another at the centre. His lips messily press against mine and I can feel the stray tears running down his face as they dampen my cheeks. My hands rest on his legs, holding on firmly as his thumbs dig into my face a little. It doesn’t hurt, but he soon pulls away and swipes at my face softly as if to apologise for it. He uses his sleeve to dry my face and I do the same for him, small gasps of laughter exchanging between us.

“Thank you for doing this. If you can’t tell, I really love it.” He says sincerely with a genuine smile, the biggest smile I’ve seen from him in weeks. The expression is infectious and I can’t help mimicking him as I grin back like the Cheshire Cat. The faint sound of knocking from downstairs pulls us out of our romance film-esque daydream and we both clamber to our feet.

As we approach the stairs, Graham stops and spins me around, pulling me into him. I land against his chest with a huff, before adjusting my hair and looking up at him. “After we eat, can you show me the film again?” He asks, his hand meeting mine to help me fix the loose hairs falling in my eyes.

“We can watch it as many times as you like.”

#graham coxon #graham coxon x reader #oneshot #blur #request #anon request

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lwt28brave · 3 years

Text

LT2 masterpost

If it was up to me, we would get an autumn or winter EP. Since it’s not up to me at all, here, enjoy this post with everything we know so far of LT2, which is to say, not much at all. Everything here is hypothetical. I’ll be updating every time I see something relevant. A little disclaimer that while this is a masterpost (kinda), it could be read as discourse (duh, it’s also a theory), AND it’s also by me, and you shouldn’t expect me to be serious at this point.

Due to me restraining myself, there’s no reference to any of the times he’s mentioned his guitar skills and him improving but I hope you know I cried every single time.

I’m also linking my old pinned here. It was written before AFHF and around the free merch thing that didn’t lead to much, but I still think I made some good points.

Possible tracks:

Copy of a Copy of a Copy

Change

Faith in the future??

369??

Possible names:

369

Faith in the future

When is the album coming out?

Your guess is as good as mine

Friday 28th of January 2022. Almost two years after Walls. It’s a Friday. It’s a 28th. What else can I say?

Here you can find @want-to-be-loved timelines for every month.

Here you can find @berlinini’s timeline of what Louis has been up to this year (2021).

The rest is under the cut. And here you can find a PDF version where Tumblr can't tell me how many pictures I can add.

2020

He said back on May 2th 2020 he wasn’t writing anything new yet.

(x)(x)(x)

Interestingly enough, he’s said many times after that that the album’s not ready cause he has no new experiences to drawn from. I won’t call him out because he does it himself.

May 4th. He liked a tweet from DMA’s Johnny Took saying they had to go write together again. Louis has been credited as an influence for them and (kind of) participated in their previous record, so I’m assuming he meant for their music and not his, but you never know.

Nothing(literally nothing??? how did we survive) until 11th of July. We all know what happened that day. We all celebrated it. Nonetheless, that’s not what I’m talking about here.

(x) So, by the beginning of July 2020 he was working on concepts and ideas for the new album. That was fifteen months ago. I know perfection takes time but…

Brief summary of important things that happened from then until the next mention of new music:

Louis left Syco!!!! 10 days later he rescheduled the tour for the first time. He followed Matt Vines on Twitter, probably so we could publicly shame him into doing something. Also, the 10thanniversary. He followed more people I wish he hadn’t.

Then more nothing until September. Not even a single tweet. The first merch drop was on the 28th of August but he just RT’ed the tweet. He first mentioned Free my Meal on the 25th of September. Then on October 1st Walls hit #1 on a lot of countries and Louis was incredibly happy and excited about it ^^

And then, that same day, October 1st, 2020, he dropped this bomb:

(x)

He also said it was too soon to be sharing new lyrics with us (x)

And, obviously, this tweet which is actually what made me start this whole post. I would hope you know mate.

(x)

He also told us he was cooking "banger after banger" and that he was incorporating more social themes into his music (x)(x) (I believe any social issue is a political issue but that’s not the point rn).

COPY OF A COPY OF A COPY?!?!

These next paragraphs are brought to you by my mind not remembering things and me not having any links. I’m assuming COACOAC came from those writing sessions that supposedly happened in October. Or in LA but I have no idea if he actually was in LA at any point other than a Daily Mail article putting him there on December which would have been too late, but I do remember that someone said he was in the studio in LA last autumn???? A rumor. Maybe. IDK. Did I mention already all of this is very hypothetical?? Well, this is it. I can’t even remember if this was October or November or what. So, take this with a grain of salt.

I’m also… taking the liberty to assume, if you must, that Copy wasn’t meant to be a Walls reject because it sounds more mature and darker and it has a vastly different tone that Walls songs. I know he’s said that song probably isn’t getting into the album, but I want to have faith (in the future) that I’m getting a studio version. (But also, Louis, if you’re reading this, first of all GET OUT OF MY BLOG second of all, please don’t ever feel pressured again to add a song to the album because we have already heard it before. It’s your art and it should always be under your own terms).

So yeah, I believe that Copy is either one of those four songs (then imagine the other three??!!) or was written around the 1st of October date.

---End of the Intermission---

Then not much important (other than sharing more about Marcus Rashford fight against food poverty and the 2nd merch drop) until he announced the livestream on the 24th of November. (x)

It wasn’t until a few days before the livestream date we even thought again about new music (jk, I know we’re always thinking about new Louis’ music). So, December 9th/10th, 2020. Nine months ago. We got our first taste of new music!

He made sure we knew Copy of a Copy of a Copy isn't a cover! (x) (x)

(x)

Ok, so that’s it for 2020. (I feel like I’m missing something from September 17th because tweet was deleted but maybe he was still talking about cucumbers. We might never know. Unless I understand how Tumblr tags work). Expected, cause Walls was released in 2020. We needed to let it sit for a while.

2021

Another Summary: Louis third tweet of the year was telling the UK government off. So was the fifth. What a good beginning. On the 26th of January, he said he prefers pancakes over waffles. I hope he meant pancakes other than his own. More importantly, he tweeted the infamous “you lot read into things too much”. Don’t get me started, Tomlinson. Don’t. Then the 31st came around and Walls was one. He tweeted this. How wise. And Project Defenceless happened!!

15th of February!! Who cares about Valentine Day when the next day we got this? ♥

(x)

So…AN EP?? AN EP?? PLEASE RELEASE AN EP.

“I’m sure I will have something out this year but unlikely that will be the album”. Unlikely but not impossible. Also. A single would be good. This is the second time he mentions releasing something in 2021 and he sounds surer about it than the first time around.

He also said that he isn’t sure we will get a studio version of Copy. And that the best bridges from Walls to LT2 are Walls, OTB, KMM and Copy. Can’t wait!

Then we jump to March 6th when he announced he was going to create his own management company. “Sometimes action is needed first to encourage the motivation and belief”. As we can tell he was already manifesting some stuff which will lead us to the numerology stuff/Tesla… kidding. Or not. We might never know.

On the 22nd of March he answered some questions:

He told us music was still his main focus ♥ mwha. (x) I included this tweet to guilt-trip him into giving us music in case he’s reading this even after I told him to leave. ILY.

(x) I’d love to get a visual EP this autumn. Just saying. It sounds like a lovely concept.

(x)

…next (I will get into it, I promise. I’m just mad).

On the 25th he left for Mexico until April 10th. You could assume it was just for the documentary where we got ten seconds of footage or admit the obvious: LT2 its a Mexican baby!!

On the 26th (so, not so far apart from that first 369) we got the first Faith in the Future mention: (x)

Back then we were innocent people who had no idea what was coming upon us. We still have no idea because what the fuck does he mean with these. Please explain. I have one braincell and I don’t use it enough for this. I’m linking some theories.

On the 30th of March he confirmed he was already working on the documentary. So AFHF was already on the works. Will it take this long for us to get the Veeps numbers? We also got this tweet: "Got a decent chorus idea down" (x).

Same person that got the “something out this year” exclusive. If you know something share with the class. Also. Is this Change? I feel like this could be Change but I also assume he wrote Change after hanging out with his friends or being in Doncaster. But who knows.

(x) And the second mention to 369.

(x) 15th of April. The second "Faith in the future".

On the 19th of April he announced that he had something BIG for us later on the year which turned out to be the Away From Home Festival ♥♥ (x) I love him so much.

Then on the 28th he announced the 369 merch drop (which it’s probably the Walls drop? Except that the TOU and KMM ones were “drop 1 and drop 2” and this was drop 369 which, again, makes no sense) but we still don’t know what 369 means.

Into May’ 21 we go.

He rescheduled tour again. And dropped another bomb (x).

He announced he has signed with BMG as an independent artist by RTing this tweet on May 10th. The article also says that he’s already working on writing and recording LT2. The timing… we don’t know. What this deal involves… we don’t know either. Bear with me here because I have a lot to say about this.

I think the deal is only a distribution one, but that BMG are interested in Louis and what he (us) could bring to the table. They were either present at the festival or watching it, but officially they had no involvement at all with it (everything is credited either to Louis own company, 78 Productions, or Charlie Lightening’s company). That’s the case for both giveaways too; the vinyl one and the tickets for the festival.

I think it would be an unbelievably bad move not to test the waters with BMG now or soon-ish. At least a single, to see how it performs. Due to the circumstances, it’s obvious there’re certain limitations on place but I want to see how they push it, whether the radio play exist this time around and if the song is playlisted and promoted and all that… I would also love to know, since it says he signed with BMG UK, but it also states it’s a global deal, how things are going to go on the US and other countries.

Yes, yes. I know those are all questions and no answers. But I know the same as you, sadly. If any of you know more than you’re letting on… again, share with the class.

Where was I? Yes, on the 25th of May Louis had a great day writing (x). Since the first time he had mentioned he was officially writing to this date there’s almost eight months. And I believe he was writing before October’ 20.

He followed Robert Harvey that day and, on the 28th of May (why is it always the 28th???) he was spotted at the studio for the first time.

June was an interesting month for the fandom ♥. Lots of LHL content which I will love and cherish for the rest of times. On June 4th, June 9th, and June 10th he was spotted at the studio, but I believe he was there more days.

(x)

This was posted on June 6th and captioned Studio. Charlie also shared it with “Mega tunes being put down, can’t wait for this @louist91 #louistomlinson #LT2” as the caption. This gives me 2019 (Elton-Joint) vibes. I like it. Feels like we’re getting closer to something.

He added the Milano date on the 9th too which I’m mentioning because I’m going alone. Anyone wanna go with me please? I’m nice and I never eat anything before a concert so you can have my food. On other news. It didn’t come home.

During July he was at the studio at least three days too. Probably more. Feels like more with all the fan pictures we got. Or was that June? Anyway, July 1st and 9th we got some videos from Robert Harvey and wearesuperhi, which is who Louis has been working with the most, that we know of. I don’t know for sure they’re from that day. And on July 5th we got an article and lots of pictures of Louis looking really good outside the studio.

On the 12th of July the first fans started getting the free, 369 bucket hat and print. We still don’t know what the purpose was other than to thanks fans. Maybe that was it. I want answers and I still think it relates to a future project (see theories above), but it could also just be a bridge with the Walls breaking.

He didn’t tweet about anything interesting for a while, mostly because he lost his phone (he either throwed it in the air or smashed it who knows). Then on the 29th of July he announced the festival!

I’m glossing over it because there’s already been a lot of talk about it (rightfully) and while it was a wonderful thing, it doesn’t have much to do with LT2.

Let’s talk Change!

On August 3rd he tweeted this about the setlist.

(x)

And this (x) on the 28th! I can’t stand him.

We didn’t get it, obviously. Because who was going to get that. But we read too much into things. Alright.

On the 16thof August Dave Gibson shared this post tagged #LT2 with the eyes emojis 👀👀👀. I believe this has to do both with Change but also with whatever else came out of that Mexico trip.

(x) Last relevant tweet related to LT2 is this one.

So, on the 30th of August we got Change and we cried, and we know that Change is going in the new album. He said it. With those exact words. He also said he was “getting a feeling for it”. This has to meant he already has a general idea of the vibe of the new album and what’s going in it!!!!!! (Right? RIGHT?).

Anyway, let’s go back a few weeks because some other things happened on August. He was at the studio a few more times. Or it was suggested that he was there. On the 17th and the 18th. (Why was it so time-pressing to be at the studio instead of rehearsing for the festival? There was no studio at all on the documentary. Which makes sense, but again, then why?).

On the day of the festival we got another mention of Faith in The Future that made me feel part of a cult ngl. The words were flashing on the screen for less than a second. Okay.

And then he tweeted those words again after watching the livestream/documentary on the 4th of September (x). This is what makes me suspect it's either the name of the album or of the single.

On the same day, we got some interesting quotes about LT2 on the documentary.

“Soon I’ll have to think about me second album, which in my head I’ll get the tour out of the way and then I’ll address that. So, I hadn’t really given it much thought, to be honest”.

“When every day is the same is hard to feel creative and it’s hard to have any kind of proper inspiration”.

“As season started to come back, I started writing again and it was great and some of these songs turned out alright”.

And I think this is it. I might be overlooking some important details but that’s what we know and what we don’t know.

So. Conclusions. That’s what you missed on Glee. I do believe the album is, if not mostly done, partially there. And yes, this post is pointless and never-ending but it’s all in here if you need to tell Louis “Hey, you said this, mate”.

#LT2 #Louis Tomlinson #Faith in The future #369 #Louis #LT #new music #idk what this is #but it's long #pinned

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simsadventures · 3 years

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Panopticon: Chapter 27: War Path

Alpha Steve x Omega Reader

Summary: Steve is livid and tries to find you but somebody keeps putting obstacles in his way. You, on the other hand, get to meet the devils and learn some harsh truths.

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, angst, abduction, slight mentions of torture, life in captivity, lying, swearing, mentions of violence against women, shitty people in general, loads of feels, I would hope, mentions of suicide, mentions of death

Word Count: 3800

A/N: Du dun… Who is ready for some angst? Many of you weren’t happy that we’re taking this route, but it needed to happen because the world is full of assholes who try to make people unhappy. Anyway, so excited about this one, and I can’t wait for you to tell me what you thought. Love you all!! xx

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“That won’t help to find my Omega, so no!” Steve yelled across the whole room, and even the experienced Alpha fighters gathered in the room couldn’t help but shudder at Steve’s authoritative voice. They were trying to help, coming up with new ideas to try and bring the Circle down, or at least make somebody from the inside communicate with them to tell Steve and his team the location of his Omega. But no idea was good enough for Steve.

It had been four days. Four days without his precious Omega, and Steve felt like he was slowly losing his mind. He desperately needed you next to him, just to feel your warm, soft skin pressed against his, or to see the light in your eyes whenever you looked at him. But he had nothing.

He often saw broken Alphas after all that went down on Earth a few years ago, and while he couldn’t really imagine what they must have been feeling at that time, walking like dead men, some of them on the brink of death because they just couldn’t handle their lives without their loved ones, Steve understood it all now.

He knew he had to concentrate because he felt you in his veins, felt that you were alright considering the circumstances and, most importantly, that you were still alive. That was the sole reason why he didn’t end it yet. But he was hanging on a thread because each day and night he had to spend without you, his mind was going just a little more insane. He was hearing your voice and this morning, he even saw you standing by the bed. He was elated, but when he blinked a few more times, he realised that it was his brain playing tricks on him and that none of what had happened was just a nightmare.

Moreover, he had to orchestrate a funeral for Peter and Gamora. The sadness over their loss was embedded deep in Steve’s soul, and he knew he would never get over it, even if he got you back. When he got you back, he scolded himself every time he thought of it, but it was to no avail. The desperation and pain seeped deep into his bones, and the once positive Alpha, who used to be full of life was just a walking shell of numbness.

Sam and Bucky tried to pick up the mood in the room now and then, but they knew all too well that there was nothing they could say or do to make the situation better. The only thing Steve really needed was to get you back, and they empathised with him. Moments after the realisation hit them that you were indeed gone, they rushed to their own huts to check on their own mates. Their bonds felt fine, but the fucked-up situation got into their heads, and they needed to see their loves for themselves. Both Meera and Tina were sitting comfortably in their houses, unaware of the terror going on just mere meters away from them. They all spent the afternoon scenting and crying, their hearts clenching for their friend who was lost in his thoughts and his pain.

But Steve tried to come up with a solution. He knew Rumlow would take you somewhere far, but not far enough not to brag about it. The circle was almost a day drive so Steve would have bet Rumlow’s hiding place was somewhere between his own house and the hell house they called the Omega haven. But that was still too much land to cover just by foot or by car, since there were so many abandoned houses and warehouses, not even talking about all the hidden places deep in the forests. So, just going somewhere blindly was not an option.

Then, he thought of using what was left of the functioning camera system between the city and his lands, trying to see if he could pinpoint at least the direction where Rumlow and his team went. But he came up with nothing since most of the cameras had been destroyed soon after the war had started.

Steve even thought of taking some military dogs and making them sniff your clothes to find you, but that would mean hundreds of kilometres to search, and that was just impossible. Every single thing Steve came up with was a nonsense, and the longer he couldn’t figure out how to find you, the more desperate and angry he had become. His people knew it was nothing personal, but his yelling and blaming was sometimes too difficult to bear for any of them. Steve knew he was being a dick, and he apologised every time his nerves got the better of him, but it was like he couldn’t do anything about it.

It was when Bucky spoke up with a guilty look that Steve finally got a good idea from somebody. Not that he particularly liked it, but it was something useful at last, and Steve was actually quite angry with himself for not thinking of it sooner. The idea was to call Peggy because she was always able to find Rumlow a little easier than the rest of the world. How that worked exactly Steve never asked, because Peggy was one of those who kept their work pretty shut, and she wouldn’t brag or even talk about it, so Steve had barely any idea of what Peggy really did. There used to be times when he minded when it drove him up the wall, but not anymore. He didn’t care how she did it, the only thing Steve needed was to get you back.

He called her almost immediately, listening to her smooth voice as she assured him that she would devote a majority of her time to help him because, after all, she still cared for him very much. Steve thanked her from the bottom of his heart and resolved to wait for her to come back to him since there was literally nothing else to do for him but to wallow in his pain.

Surprisingly, it only took a few hours for Peggy to reach out and tell Steve that she might have found him. His heart started beating like crazy as if feeling that he might be getting you in his arms sooner than he expected. Peggy told him that she got the memo that Rumlow was hiding in an old warehouse south of the manor, around 70 kms away, and Steve just growled, knowing he was kind of right in his assumptions. He quickly gathered his team, not really speaking much, but they all understood. This was a life or death mission because most of the team was sure Steve wouldn’t survive that if they didn’t find you.

Steve pretty much jumped out of a moving car when they neared the building, and he got to work immediately, going into the commander mode, assigning roles and talking strategy for when they would come in contact with Rumlow’s team. Everything was meticulously planned, and Steve had a good feeling about that. The only issue was that he couldn’t smell you. But he simply thought that he was still far enough to be able to do that and that they were probably keeping you in some shutoff room.

The closer to the building they got, however, the weirder the whole situation felt. No men were standing outside on the lookout, there were no specific smells to tell the team that there were indeed people hiding inside, and when they finally got in, they found the place completely empty.

They rummaged through all the rooms, even in the basement and on the roof, but the only thing they got was some cloth lightly smelling like Rumlow, but not enough to tell them how long ago he was at the warehouse. Steve screamed in frustration because there was no sign of you, not even a hint of your smell that he so helplessly craved.

Bucky and Sam shared distressed looks before they each grabbed Steve from one side and brought him back to the car, hollering at the whole team that the mission was over and that they needed to come back home. Steve didn’t speak the entire ride back, just staring out of the window, thinking of all the times you two would take such rides to and from the city, always discussing new books or just sharing stories from your youths. Steve now found that he took these moments for granted. He enjoyed them, sure, but not enough. There was the nagging voice telling him that he should have done more, that he ought to have taken you with him to that fucking meeting, and none of this would have happened.

“Stop it, punk. None of this is your fault so stop with the self-blaming and call Peggy to tell you what the fuck happened that her tip wasn’t true,” Bucky interjected Steve’s thoughts, and as many times before, Steve wondered whether Bucky could just read him like an open book or if he had a direct link to his brain. Steve shook his head and dialled the number.

“So, happily ever after?” Peggy said smugly, and if she stood anywhere near Steve, he swore he would have hit her.

“Nothing and nobody’s fucking happy, Peggy. Nobody was there except for some piece of cloth that was supposed to smell like Rumlow. Who the fuck gave you this tip? I need to find my Omega, and I don’t have the time to drive around the city and march into every single abandoned building just because you have a hunch. I need real information, Peggy, and if you can’t give that to me, then you’re just wasting my time,” Steve said more tiredly than anything else, but Peggy’s face contorted in annoyance on the other end of the line.

“I never waste your time, Stevie, you remember that. Look, I thought the info was top-notch, but I’ll keep looking. How about I come to your place, and we can think of a plan together?”

“Yeah, yeah whatever, it definitely can’t harm us. I’ll be expecting you,” Steve sighed and hung up, nodding at Sam who was watching him through the rearview mirror.

“Peggy said she’d come and help from the mansion. I mean, I’d rather have the whole fucking team together looking for Y/N, but I can’t fly everyone here from god-knows-where, so anyone who wants to join in is welcomed.”

Sam nodded but didn’t like it one bit. He understood that Steve was desperate, but Peggy was and had always been bad news, and Sam had a hard time trusting her even back in the days when they had to fight side to side. All the secrecy surrounding her just stank, and Sam was sure he’d keep an eye on her, just in case. He wanted everything to go over smoothly for Steve, and nobody needed a sneaky bitch who would throw them under a train the second she got a better deal from the opposing side.

You let your hand slide on the ground underneath you. It was rough with what felt like small rocks that were cutting you in the palm. You were seated, and your whole body hurt since you have been in this position for hours. Nobody talked to you since they killed your friends and abducted you. They just blindfolded you and tied you up, changing positions every few hours probably to disorient you since you doubted anybody really cared how comfortable you were. All you could do was rely on your senses and learn as much about your surroundings as you could. You weren’t even sure why you cared, but your brain couldn’t take thinking about anything related to Steve, so you busied it by making sure you knew everything you could.

You learned that there were three places they would keep you in. You presumed that they were all in one room, but they changed whether you were sitting or lying down. You weren’t even sure what time it was and slept when they put you laid you down. Nobody ever touched you inappropriately, and that’s how you assumed not one of those people was Rumlow.

The first place they would let you sit in was in an old crinkly chair made of rough wood as you had a few splinters from rubbing your hands against the arm-holders. It had four metal legs, and from the sounds, it made every time you shifted, you thought it was a rather old and overused piece of furniture.

The second place was where you were sitting now. It was by the wall, which was cold and smelt of moss, and you even though you sensed death a few times, you knew that was just your exhausted brain playing games with you. The ground was full of rocks and shards of glass, so it was your least favourite place to be of the three. The ground was colder than all the other areas, and every time they made you stand up, there was a wet patch where your ass touched the ground as the coldness accumulated against your hot body, making you wish you could just change. But your abductees would never answer to your pleas, so after what you assumed were a few days, you just gave up asking them altogether.

The third place was a makeshift bed, created out of a few pieces of wood pushed together and an old and smelly mattress. You tried to ignore all that the smell evoked in you, but you sometimes choked on your own saliva as you shifted and changed position, getting another whiff of what smelt like a hundred of butts and sweat. But it was a mattress, and you could get a few hours of sleep, so you couldn’t dwell on the details.

When you found out everything there was with your surroundings you tried to pay attention to your abductors. And while you couldn’t say precisely how many there were, you had a pretty good idea. As you were an Omega, blindfolded and cuffed, they always came alone, and you recognised each of the people by their steps. There were four of them, each of them having differences in their weight, the length of their steps and the carefulness with which they handled you. That’s how you came up with the number of four.

Number two was by far your favourite. They (you assumed it was a he but you couldn’t be sure) would always leave you alone even when you needed to use the bathroom. You knew they were in the room, but they had the decency to at least not physically touch you, and, in your mind, you created this picture that the person even turned around to leave you to do your business. They would also give you the biggest amount of water, seeing how you were parched because number four was a complete asshole and would always allow only a gulp before he drastically took the cup away from your mouth.

And that was your days, filled with diverting your brain from thinking about the graver questions, like where were you, would Steve ever find you, what did they want from you, etc. Every time any of those popped up in your head, you choked up, and had to start touching your surroundings or else you’d have gone insane by now.

It was when number three was supposed to come and let you sleep that you heard it. It was faint, but your ears perked up at anything that wasn’t your own breath or the sound of boots of your abductors hitting the ground. And this was neither. These were human voices talking about something behind the door. Your heart-rate picked up immediately because, while you hated the routine of four guards and three positions, you also knew that routine was good. Anything that was out of the routine could possibly mean death to you, and you tried to do anything to avoid that. The voices grew nearer, and you shuddered involuntarily, bracing yourself.

When the door opened, the cold air hit your face, and you hid it between your shoulder blades.

“Well, well, well, here is the famous Omega the world is searching for. You look so pathetic, it’s actually quite funny,” you heard a female voice say, and your brows knitted together. You heard it before, you just couldn’t place the voice for the life of you.

“Yeah, well, the sooner she stops pining for that pathetic excuse of an Alpha and becomes mine, she will look much better. I mean, not that anybody’s gonna see her since she is just an Omega pussy, but she is my Omega pussy, so,” the man trailed off, and you didn’t have to think to place this voice. This voice haunted your worst nightmares, so you were pretty familiar with it.

Rumlow

“Whatever, Rumlow. All we need is to get rid of her mating mark, and we’ll be good. Steve called me and found the warehouse where I sent him empty, and I, as a devoted friend, told him I’d help him from the mansion so I’ll have easy access to him and I will divert him from here if need be. You just need to do what you must so that I can have him back,” the woman spat, and it was as if a light bulb switched on. God, you felt stupid for not suspecting she had her ugly fingers in this. Fucking Peggy who obviously wanted Steve back even when she visited him all those months ago.

And while it was nice that Steve didn’t feel the same, this woman was clearly a maniac, and she wouldn’t stop at anything to get what she wanted.

But, there was one more thing that caught your attention. They wanted to get rid of your mating mark, and the thought paralysed your whole body. There were only a few ways to do that to any mated couple, and none of them was humane or accepted by most people. You’ve heard of Omegas trying to sever their bonds as they didn’t like who chose them, and so they cut a clean line across their mark, but even then the bond couldn’t be severed completely. There was also the option of just biting an Omega hard enough where their mates’ mark was, and trying to beat mark with a mark.

You also heard that true mates were inseparable, and while Bruce told you that you were true mates, you could never know for sure. The inseparableness of true mates could just as well be some old maid tales, it was one of the things your mother used to tell you, but you had no idea where the truth was.

The only thing you did know was that however they wanted to do it, you would go through hell, both physically and mentally, and that there was a more than likely chance that you would die in the process.

“You’re not afraid she’ll die on you?” Peggy asked more curious than concerned because, for her plan to work, your ties with Steve had to be cut. She would have preferred killing you since it was easier, quicker and with long-lasting results. But Rumlow had been obsessed with you ever since he lost the fight with Steve back at the Circle. When Peggy heard about it, she just scoffed and told him he was an idiot, because if he would have called her, she could have just snuck you out without anyone knowing and they wouldn’t have been in this mess.

“I mean, there’s always the possibility, but I’m not letting her run around with his mark. I wouldn’t like pounding a pussy marked by somebody else. Besides, she’s stronger than she looks, isn’t it right, pussycat?” Rumlow asked, for the first time addressing you. But you knew better than to talk, so you just remained quiet, and from the low hum coming from his mouth, you assumed it was a good decision.

“And what if that bullshit about true mates is real?”

“Oh, please, not you too. Nothing like true mates exists, Peggy, I told you. Some just smell nicer to particular individuals than others, that’s it. I don’t even know why we’re losing time talking about this. Go and do whatever you want with Steve and his estate and I’ll just do what I want with this one,” Rumlow rumbled, and the next thing you heard was the clicking of high-heels against the hard floor, leaving you alone in the room with the devil.

“Now, sweetheart, I think we should begin, hm?”

“Oh, Stevie, you don’t look good. Here, let me bring you to your bedroom so you can rest and the team and I will search for your mate in the meantime, hm?” Peggy suggested nicely, and Steve nodded, happy there was somebody who could possibly save you. But before she put her claws on his arm, Sam appeared out of nowhere and stopped her hand. She hissed like a cat and Sam gave her an are-you-fucking-kidding-me look.

“I think it would be better if you stayed down here, Peggy, as you said, you are such a valuable asset to this team that I wouldn’t want to you to waste your time by going with Steve here. I will accompany him to his bedroom so that he can get some sleep, and, meanwhile, you can work with Bucky,” Sam smirked but didn’t wait for her response as he led Steve towards the staircase and up to his bedroom. There was no fucking way in hell Sam would let Peggy be with Steve alone. And since he shared his worries with Bucky, there were two of them looking out for their best friend, which left Peggy in a tough position.

She watched Sam and Steve leave the room, and Bucky would laugh hadn’t it been such a delicate situation, because Peggy really looked like the Goddess of Revenge. That just further proved Sam’s theory about Peggy being fishy, to say the least, and Bucky was starting to question whether she didn’t have something to do with your disappearance.

Peggy saw right through them, and she smirked to herself. If they wanted to play games with her, so be it. She would get Steve alone and inject the serum in him she had been making for so long, and they would finally live happily ever after. Just like they were supposed to. All she needed was to stay close to Steve for a couple of days, get him alone enough times, and he would be all hers.

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