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mrs-eddie-k · 1 year

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You what? // Eddie Kaspbrak x F!Uris!Reader

Summary: Eddie (aged up to 16) falls for Stan's sister, which pisses the overprotective Stan clearly off!

Warnings: Language, fluff, insults Rating: PG-13

A/N: This is just a little throw together - just fluff - of scenarios that could happen if Stan's twin sister is starting to date Eddie. It's for all the Eddie lovers out there. PS: I will probably use some of this in my big fanfic as flashbacks ;) PPS: I really dove into some of my teenage memories for this - huh, this was a long time ago ;) PPPS: I'm not a native English speaker, so I apologize for any spelling errors ;)

"Wow, Eddie, did you finally get some?" Richie snorts, pointing at Eddie's neck.

"What are you talking about, you dickhead?" Eddie whines and pushes his friend off him, who comes closer and inspects his neck.

"What am I talking about? That fucking big hickey on your neck, Eddie Spaghetti!"

"Wait, what?!" he exclaims and touches his neck. He panics and tries to rub it off. His mother will have a heart attack if she sees this.

"That's not how this works, Eds," Richie laughs. "Who was the lucky lady? Or was it a guy?"

"Shut the fuck up, Tozier! That's none of your business."

Now the two have the attention of the others as well. Bill, Stan, and Mike turn to them, and Stan scoffs about his hickey.

"Nice one, Eddie. Come on, tell us. Who was it?" Stan now asks, making Eddie blush. He doesn't want Stan to know that it was, in fact you, his sister.

"No one, and now leave me alone," Eddie grumbles.

"C-c-come on, E-e-Eds. Tell us", now Bill intervenes.

"You don't know her, okay? She's not in our grade." Eddie puts up the collar of his polo and tries to hide it so that the others finally back off.

The Uris family sat at their table, eating dinner. Stan, as always, sat on your right and shoveled the stew into his mouth, which your mother had made.

"So, how did studying with Eddie go today, Y/N?" your mother speaks up, and you look up.

It's still strange for Stan that you are hanging out with one of his best friends, but it's for school.

"It was good, actually. We - we discovered something new today", you tell your mother, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

Stan's gaze almost immediately rushes to your neck, where he can clearly see a hickey. Just like the one Eddie had. He stares at you as he puts one plus one together and clenches his fist. You look up and into your brother's eyes.

"What are you looking at, moron?" you ask, and Stan still stares at your hickey.

"Y/N, don't call your brother a moron," your dad intervenes, not even looking up from his newspaper.

Stan looks up into your eyes and then back to your neck. You understand quickly, pulling your hair in front of it and averting his gaze.

The following day Stan is still pissed. As he walks up to the school, he tightens his fingers around the straps of his backpack. When he spots Eddie, who is standing there with Ben, Bill, and Richie, he walks straight up to him, throws his bag to the ground, and then pushes Eddie back hard, throwing him on the floor. Of course, the others intervene asap and hold Stan back.

"You fucking bastard!" he yells, and Eddie looks at him irritated, as he looks up at Stan on the ground.

"What is your fucking problem, Stan?" Eddie asks in disbelief.

"Fucking hell, Stan. Not cool", Richie says now, taking his best friend's side and pulling him to his feet.

"I fucking know what you did, Kaspbrak! I know it! She's my fucking sister!" Stan now yells, glaring at Eddie, who just now realizes what Stan is talking about. His feeling gets terrible.

"Stan, I - I can explain..." Eddie stutters.

"Are you for real? You're doing my sister? My baby sister? Out of all people!!" He yells, and Eddie flinches.

"Well... Actually, she's the same age as you, Stan", Eddie tries to convince his friend.

You are, in fact, his twin sister. You are a year younger than Eddie and Stan's other friends and are quite popular. Eddie thinks you have the most beautiful Y/E/C eyes he has ever seen. You never belonged to the losers club and were lucky enough never to have any encounter with Pennywise. Yet.

The other losers only saw you when they were at Stan's house, and Eddie was smitten with you from the beginning. Of course, he would never admit that to the others, or, so help him god, to Stan.

Stan was always overprotective of you and never let anyone get near you. When Richie commented about you getting titties or a "smashing body," he would freak and put him in his place. One could do anything but never joke about his sister.

You joined an advanced history class when you got older and met Eddie. You got along well from the beginning. When you needed to do an assignment together, you often visited his house, or he was at your place.

As the usual "Teenage love story" you studied together, one thing led to another... You found yourselves on your bed, making out.

Flashback

"Holy fucking shit," Eddie murmured as he placed his lips on yours again. He lies on top of you, and his hands roam over your body.

"You okay?" you ask, and he smiles against your lips.

"More than okay."

You two teenagers continue to make out. Then you turn yourselves around and sit on Eddie, taking off your shirt. Eddies eyes grow big as he stares at your bra and your boobs.

"Holy fuck!" he curses, and you have to laugh.

"You are cute, Eddie. You act as if you've never seen a girl in a bra before" you laugh, and he blushes.

You don't know that he never has. He doesn't want you to find out, so he pulls you down and kisses you again. You start kissing down his neck and then suck on it.

It's a natural sensation for Eddie. And then it happens. He feels it between his legs, how the blood is being pumped there.

'Oh god, no! Why does this have to happen now?!' Eddie thinks, and he sincerely hopes that you don't notice.

You push yourself up from him and then look at him quite amused, which makes Eddie blush. His breathing quickens, and he gets nervous. You smile at him and then stroke your hand over his chest to his waistband. You softly rub your fingers inside the waistband, but Eddie stops you.

"Please... don't", he gasps, looking you in the eyes. He is nervous that you think he is a loser, a prude, or something. Or that you will laugh at him for being a virgin.

A soft smile appears on you lips.

"You’re all good, Eddie," you say. "We are only doing what you are comfortable with, I promise. No need to be embarrassed about it."

Eddie looks at you in surprise. He never thought of you reacting the way you just did. When he sees you in school, you always seem so cool and intimating, if Eddie has to be honest, despite you being younger than him. But right here, right now, you seem... Just so sweet, understanding, and gentle.

A flow of adrenalin pumps through Eddie's veins, and he can feel the butterflies starting in his stomach. Fuck, did he just fall for his best friend's sister?

You lean down to kiss him again. "And if you wanna stop this," you say. "Just say the word."

Eddie shakes his head quickly. "N-no," he stutters. "I actually really, really like this."

"Me too, Eddie. Me too."

Flashback end

Richie laughs out loud. "Hah, are you for real Eddie? You fucked Stan's sister?"

"No! I didn't - fuck her! We just... made out a little", Eddie tries to justify himself.

"That doesn't fucking matter! You stay away from her!!" Stan yells, but just then, you step up to them.

"What the fuck is going on here?" you want to know from your brother, which you just saw pushing Eddie back.

"You tell me, Y/N! You're the one screwing one of my best friends!" Stan says, still angry.

Now you sigh, annoyed, and rub your forehead. "Are you fucking serious? You're making a scene because I made out with Eddie? So the fuck what when we did?"

Now Stan looks startled at you. He didn't expect that kind of reaction. "But you-"

"But I what, Stan? I'm 15. That's what normal teenagers do when they are "studying." Don't you get that? No wonder you are in this so-called Loser Club. Just grow up, okay?" you throw at his head. You words kind of sting inside Eddie, too, cause you literally just called them all losers.

"But why him? Why couldn't you just - I don't know - take one of your cool kids or something?" Stan now adds.

Again you sigh, annoyed. "Cause, maybe, if it goes into your tiny brain, I think Eddie is cute."

"You do?" Eddie now asks, surprised.

You turn around to him and smile. "I do, Eddie. I quite enjoy our little study dates, to be honest", you say, and Stan gags.

"You two are just gross!"

"Shut up, Stanley!" you spit at your brother. You turn around, winking at Eddie. "See ya, Eds."

The following few "study" dates between you and Eddie are mostly the same as before. You start studying a little, and then you end up making out with each other. Eddie knows by then that he has fallen hard for you, but he still doesn't know if it's just a game for you or if you feel the same. So this time, he gathers all his courage.

"Y/N?" he asks as you lie on your bed after a wild make-out session.

"Hmm?"

"I was wondering if you..." he starts, turning his head toward you and then clearing his throat. "Um, I was wondering if you, maybe, would like to, um, go on a date, maybe? I mean, on a real date."

You sit up and look at him, surprised. "Eddie? Are you really asking me out?" you ask, and Eddie gets nervous.

"Well, um, m-maybe I do. If you're up for it, of course!"

You smile at him. "Gosh, Stan will freak," you say, bending down to Eddie and pecking his lips. "I'd love to."

"Seriously? Holy fuck!" he exclaims, and his eyes start to glimmer.

"Why are you always so surprised at everything, Eddie?" you ask, amused. "I really like you. Do you think I would make out with you if I wouldn't?"

"I don't know," Eddie says, shrugging.

You sigh and lie down on your bed again. "I know what you might think of me, Eddie. I know what they've been saying about us."

Eddie pops himself up on his elbow. "You have no idea what I think of you, Y/N Uris. Those things they say about you - I think it's just what it is - rumors." He bent down and kisses you again. "And I really like you, too, by the way."

"Just one thing first... I want to talk to Stan about it, if that's okay with you, " you say, and Eddie sighs.

"I would've done that myself, but honestly - he freaks me out!"

That evening you knock on Stan's door.

"What you want?" you hear him say as you open the door slowly.

"Stan? Can I talk to you for a sec?" you ask, and Stan looks up from his comic.

He then sighs and continues reading it. "What's up?" He is still pissed at you for fooling around with his friend.

You close the door behind your back. "It's about Eddie..."

Now you have his attention. He looks back up at you and closes his comic. He angrily bites his lip as he glares at you. "What about him?"

You nervously knead your fingers. "Well... I - I think I'm kinda falling for him, Stanny."

Stan's eyebrows shoot up. "You fucking what?"

You huff and then sit down next to your twin on his bed. "I don't know. It's just... The time I spent with him as of now was really - great. He's a great guy, and he's funny and cute, and he is really good at-"

"Wow, stop! I don't wanna hear this!"

"I was going to say at making me laugh, but okay." Ypou roll her eyes. "He asked me out, you know."

"He did what?" Stan says and shoots up.

"Calm the fuck down, you moron. It's not like he asked me to marry him! It's just a date. But I told him that I wanted to talk to you first. I want you to be okay with it."

"Dad told you not to call me that," Stan mumbles. "But no! Just no, Y/N. Not Eddie. Not one of my best friends. Please!"

You frown. "But, I really like him, Stan. And he likes me, he told me. We wanna try it."

"And what if it backfires, huh? What if you two don't work out, and my friendship with Eddie is ruined because of you? I don't want that. I really don't, Y/N!"

"But... If we don't try... We will be unhappy. Do you want that for us?"

"Jesus Christ, Y/N. You're fucking teenagers! You'll get over it."

You let your head hang and sigh sadly. "You know... I really thought you wanted me to be happy", you say, standing up slowly.

"Y/N -"

"No, I get it, Stan." You walk to the door and open it. Before you step out of his room, you look back at your twin. "I will go on that date, you know. I just would go with a better feeling, you being okay with it. But if it has to be like that, it will."

For a month now, Eddie and you have been dating. But also, for a month now, Stan hasn't talked much to Eddie or you, which was quite hard. But Stan wanted to make his point clear. If his sister and best friend started dating, he doesn't want to be part of it even though he starts to regret it lately. As it seems, you and Eddie go perfectly with each other. Stan always sees the heart eyes Eddie is giving you across the schoolyard and how you always blush and send him a little kiss back.

So Stan made a decision. In recess, he walks over to the little wall, where you sit with Eddie's head in your lap. You two look so happy and are laughing about something when Stan clears his throat next to you.

Eddie shoots up and looks at him. "Stan!" he says nervously.

"Hey guys", Stan says, pressing his lips together and scratching his head. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

Eddie and you exchange a look when you nod.

"Sure", you say, crossing your arms.

"Well, I uh, I wanted to apologize to you guys for-" Stan stops when he realizes his other friends are standing behind him. He quickly looks around and continues then. "I wanted to apologize for being an idiot. I can see now that you two are happy together, and - well - who am I to stand in the way of it."

Eddie and you are both looking at Stan. Then you stand up slowly.

"You mean it?", you ask, and Stan is looking at you and then at Eddie again when he nods.

You take your brother in your arms. "Thank you, Stan. This means so much!" Then you turn back around to Eddie and kiss him.

"Okay, but just - don't do this in front of me!"

Hand in hand, Eddie and you walk through Derry. It's been a year now since the two of you got together. Your relationship couldn't have been any better. Even Eddies mother accepted you, even though it took a long time for Mrs. Kaspbrak to accept the fact that her Eddiebear has a girlfriend now.

As you pass the pharmacy, Greta Keene and her posse are just leaving it. You can feel Eddie's hand tighten.

"Hey Y/N... Are you seriously still dating this hypochondriac little psycho?" she yells after you, making her posse laugh, and you turn around. You sigh and look Greta in the eyes.

"Y/N, you don't need to-" Eddie tries to stop you, but you just shake her head.

"No, Eddie. She can't talk to you like that."

"What? Is little Kaspbrak not man enough to stand up for himself?" Greta scoffs.

"You know what, G? Why don't you just shut the fuck up, huh? Why do you even care if I'm dating him or not?" you ask and put your chin up.

"Who said I did? I was just wondering, did you already man up this virgin, or has his mommy something against it?"

You let go of Eddie's hand and walk up to Greta. You are much smaller than Greta, but you don't care.

"You're one to talk, Greta. Spreading the rumors that you are easy to have yourself, despite being a virgin yourself! Well, I would rather be a known virgin than be one and be called a whore! But then, I mean, who would really wanna fuck you?"

Eddie can see that your speech is everything but pleasant for Greta. Her face turns red, and she clenches her fists.

"That's not true!" she tries to tell her posse, who is mumbling now. Then she turns back to you. "You little slut!" she creams and pushes you back hard, so you fall to the ground and crash with your face to the concrete.

You immediately sit up and Eddie can see that you're bleeding.

"Y/N!" he screams and kneels to you. "Are you okay?"

Greta and her posse are just laughing, making Eddie look at her with the nastiest look he has.

"You are a fucking asshole, Greta!" he hisses. "Just pathetic and - and you are a loser!"

Greta now glares at Eddie and grabs him by the collar.

"You little maggot -" she starts, but at that moment, Mr. Keene, her father, stretches out his head.

"Greta!" he yells, and she lets go of Eddie. "Leave my best customer alone!"

"You're one lucky guy, Kaspbrak! Next time you won't be!"

As Greta and her posse leave, Eddie brings his attention back to you. He rummages in his fanny pack for his disinfectant spray and gauze.

"Shit, Y/N! That looks bad. Do you know how many bacteria there are on the floor? Holy fuck!"

He starts to wipe the blood away. You just look at him, smiling.

"What?" he asks.

"There is the boy I love."

Eddie smiles and pecks your nose before finishing your wound and helping you onto your feet.

"You are lucky to have me, or you would probably die of a-"

"Let me guess... a staph infection?" you laugh, making Eddie laugh too.

"Exactly." He takes your face in his. "I love you so fucking much, Y/N. Thank you for letting me be with you."

"I love you too, my hypochondriac sweetheart. Until the end", you whisper back as you kiss passionately.

#IT Fandom #Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader #Eddie Kaspbrak #Jack Dylan Grazer #IT Chapter 1 #IT Fanfic #Eddie Kaspbrak x female reader #Eddie Kaspbrak x F!Reader #Fluff Eddie Kaspbrak #IT #IT Oneshot #Eddie Kaspbrak Fanfic

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the-crowbar-was-my-kryptonite · 7 months

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Inktober Day 10: Fortune

Any skepticism that Noah had walking into the fortune-teller’s shop had long since been forgotten. Nestled between a dim-sum restaurant and a 24-hour pharmacy, the shop made itself known on King Street by the neon sign of a crystal ball in the window. Noah had been on the phone with Ben when the flashing purple light caught his eye, and he’d wandered into the shop despite Ben’s many protests.

“Come on Ben, we both know it’s fake, but maybe she’ll be able to read my body language and tell me what to do with my life.” Noah could hear Ben sighing.

“Fine, whatever, but DO NOT give some crazy lady more than 50 bucks to tell you that you’ve hit rock bottom. I’m telling you that for free.”

“Fine.” Noah said, but he didn’t hang up the phone. Instead he cradled it against his ear as he asked the middle-aged woman behind the counter what sort of fortune he could get for under $20. The woman looked him up and down.

“I can give you a one card tarot reading for $25 cash,” she bargained.

Noah nodded and handed over the money as Ben told him that he had already paid too much.

“Come,” the woman said. “Sit at the table and I will tell you what you need to know.”

The table in question was squat and round and pushed into the back corner of the shop. It was covered with a quilted red tablecloth and scattered with slowly melting candles. Noah briefly wondered if the candles were fake, or if the shopkeep just let them burn out every day and brought out new ones the next morning. At the centre of the table was a crystal ball that the fortune-teller carelessly elbowed away as she shuffled the tarot cards on the table. Noah sat opposite to her, and put Ben on speaker.

“Now, I can show you your past, your present, or your future, but I know that it’s the answer to your future that you seek.” The fortune-teller said. Noah threatened to mute Ben when he began to grumble.

“Yes, please.”

She fanned the cards on the table in front of Noah.

“Hover your hands over the cards. Feel their individual energy, and pick just one. It will tell you what you need to know.”

Noah did as he was told, hovering his hand over cards for several minutes before landing on one.

“This one,” he said.

The fortune-teller flipped over the card and hummed. “The tower, upright. Well, isn’t that interesting.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means that you are about to face a time of great upheaval. You must quickly prepare yourself for a sudden change. An awakening is coming.”

Noah flushed as Ben snorted. He ordered himself to breathe, and to feign confusion. Deep down, he knew what this awakening was. One could say that he had, in fact, already been awoken. Not that he would ever tell anyone that. Especially not Ben. Not after his friend-slash-roommate had caught him staring at him while watching the latest episode of the newest Star Wars show last night. Noah looked down at that card, wishing it were anything else. He didn’t know how long he was lost in thought before Ben’s voice broke through the noise.

“Noah? Noah? Are you still there?” Ben asked, sounding worried.

“I’ll call you back,” Noah said, and he hung up in a daze.

All art by @cool_beans_jw on insta. Writing by her weird sister.

PS. I know that this is so so so late but it is still midterm season, so what's a girl to do.

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literaila · 3 years

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Hey! I'm a new follower and idk if you do requests. But if you do I have this idea where Spencer is just about to start working towards his second PhD at college and he's obviously still a teenager, but the reader is the little sibling of someone who is in the same year as Spencer and they bump into each other whilst they're visiting them. And they constantly surprises him by finding ways to relate their normal teenage life to his abnormal one. And then at the end of the day before they have to go they ask Spencer out by writing their number on his hand or some other romcom cliche and it sends him into a stuttering mess.

It's totally cool if you don't like doing requests, I just don't know how to approach this idea and think it would be cute :)

it always starts with a

spencer reid x reader

warnings: anxiety, food mention, lots of anxiety, oh and mentions of school.

a/n: this is just a beginning. dont you worry. (ps. it is kind of short.)

here was the thing: spencer couldn't stop thinking about all the bacteria on the door.

and once he started thinking about the bacteria on the door, he was trapped in a cycle of trying to recall how many times he’d touched his face today.

was it… 16 times? did he wash his hands after leaving the lab? did he use the sanitizer--which had bacteria of its own--before leaving the office building? was it 17? had he gotten something in his eye?

doors were hotspots for bacteria, door handles especially and spencer didn't want to touch either of those things, didn't want to touch his face again.

that's why, on a wednesday afternoon, he was standing in front of apartment 4B, not daring to breathe.

who knew what was in the air around here?

it was obviously because he was worried about the germs, about getting sick again, and it was obviously not because he wasn't sure how loud he was supposed to knock. if ben--a fellow student in his year, with whom he was supposed to be hanging out with--was asleep. if this apartment with the meek yellow door was the right one. if this was even the right time.

if he should even be considering this in the first place.

he checked his watch again, but only a minute had passed.

he just didn't want to knock on the door, he rationalized. it had nothing to do with the slight increase of his heart rate that he could feel even though he hadn't checked. nothing to do with anything else.

maybe it was 18 times, he had sneezed once this morning.

really, he wasn't even sure why he was here, why he had agreed to come. ben was one of his nicer peers, but still, he was six years older than spencer and probably had better things to do. like, hang out with people his own age or consume alcohol. hang out and consume alcohol.

spencer couldn't do either.

and he had better things to do anyway--he had a report to write, a book he’d just picked up, and a million other things that he could get finished tonight, anyway, so he should just leave.

okay, he nodded. he would leave then, ben wouldn't be too disappointed.

it probably wasn't the right time anyway, and he probably hadn't even been serious when he’d asked if spencer wanted to come over.

that was it, really, spencer was just overthinking this.

but still, his hand was paused in the air, as if trying to get the courage to finally knock on the door. as to not let go of that tiny prick of hope he'd let invade his system.

bacteria was everywhere, nowadays.

it had been at least three minutes now, standing like this. spencer felt ridiculous. he often blamed the age discrepancy on his lack of social involvement, but clearly, it was more about him. he was ridiculous. his mind was ridiculous, and the fact that he was standing here was definitely ridiculous.

he couldn't even knock on the door, or pretend that it wasn't the problem.

he scoffed and took a step back. then stepped forward a moment later. he probably looked like an idiot. definitely.

still, he held his hand up again, edged it just centimeters away from the door. he would just knock, he thought, he would knock twice, just loud enough to be heard. if this was the wrong apartment he would just apologize, use his best smile. if this was the wrong time ben would just kindly turn him away and then spencer would go home covered in shame and probably cry himself to sleep.

right. it wouldn't be too bad.

he took a breath in, stopped pretending to think about bacteria, thought about leaving, and then, with one more breath, he just touched his hand to the door.

but before he could overthink the amount of pressure, the door swung open, as if on his command, and he no longer had to knock at all.

no bacteria to be concerned about, any longer.

but it took him a moment to process what had happened, and in that moment, he hadn't looked to see you--you with your eyes wide, your mouth curled, your hands full--standing there in front of him.

“hi?” you said, shocked to have almost run into someone right in front of the door. your voice sound strained, but then again, maybe spencer was making things up.

he'd been doing it all day.

it didn't matter how strained you sounded though, because spencer couldn't speak at all.

somehow, this was worse. worse than getting the apartment wrong or being laughed at for even showing up in the first place. this was something he couldn’t have expected.

there was no irrational thought that told him someone else might be in there with ben.

there was no ridiculous thought that told him someone like you might have opened the door before he could even begin to knock. there was no ridiculous thought that could have even imagined something like this happening.

or maybe that's what he would tell himself later, once he thought back on the embarrassing five seconds he’d stared at you, unable to say a single thing.

“were you about to knock?” you asked when he didn't answer, voice fading as you took a step backward, looking down, trying to give him some space.

spencer’s eyes widened, he clenched his fist, now, struggling with the unexpected.

he appreciated the space.

“um,” he started, tried to nod, swallowing when he saw the polite smile you were trying to aim at him, trying not to look too irritated, probably. “i’m looking for ben?” he winced at the way his voice shook.

immediately, a light switched. your smile faded into something different. "of course," you murmured, letting the door go and taking another step back. spencer stared as you smiled, eyebrows raised, and gestured for him to follow. hopefully, you hadn't noticed the dumbstruck look on his face. “ben mentioned he was having someone over, you’re…”

“spencer,” he whispered, loud enough.

“right, spencer!” your voice was quiet as you led him into the apartment. he noticed your bag, the shoes you were dangling from your fingers. the silent steps you were taking as you walked through the apartment.

he felt terrible for stopping you on your way out the door. felt terrible for not knowing that ben had someone else over. felt terrible for being here. felt terrible because he couldn't even figure out what to say next.

so he was glad when you turned back around, clearly with the intent of introducing yourself.

well, he thought, at least he didn't have to awkwardly decline a handshake. at least you wouldn't get the chance to notice his sweaty palms.

“i’m y/n. you go to school with ben?” your eyes were focused on him, but he noticed the hand that was playing with something on your belt. he tried not to get distracted by the small movement. tried not to think at all.

“yes, um, we’re both getting our doctorate degrees,” there was a bell in his mind, reminding him that you probably already guessed that, that you already knew, that he was being ridiculous again.

it took all his concentration not to wince.

if you did, you smiled anyway, nodding with him. at least you didn't look uncomfortable, at least you were smiling.

it could be worse, he supposed. but then again, it could be much better.

spencer could not be here at all.

“you’re smart then.” it sounded like a declaration, and spencer almost wanted to ask, but he decided to stay quiet instead.

and then, moments later when you were still looking at him expectedly, he decided that he was being stupid.

he decided to ask something else instead.

“do you go to school?” his voice shook on the words and he was making an effort to avoid eye contact, making an effort not to stare, not to be shocked by your smile.

he was a bit faint.

you laughed and looked down. “no, i’m just working while-” you paused, looked to your phone in your hand. “oh, shit-” you looked back up at him, eyes wide. “sorry." you cleared your throat, flustered now, it seemed. "um, i’m just-" you paused, bending down to pick something up. "-running late.” spencer was vaguely distracted by the color of your eyes.

he shook his head, telling you it was okay without words. trying to smile back, even though he wasn't quite sure that he remembered how, even.

“i’ve, uh, got to go." your fingers were spits of nervous energy, tapping against your leg. spencer was really trying not to meet your eyes, but he was also trying not to stare at your hands.

he cleared his throat, he wasn't sure why.

and when he looked down--idiot--and noticed the shoes about to fall from your hand, the bag slipping off your shoulder, he couldn't help but bend down.

and take the shoes right from your hands.

"i can hold some of your things while you put your shoes on," he offered, holding the shoes out to you as if he hadn't just stolen them right from your hands.

he was seriously, definitely, contemplating running away from there, throwing himself off of anything taller than this building when he noticed your smile, again.

"thank you, spencer." you slipped your bag off, gestured towards him. he was much too fast in placing the shoes in your outstretched hand. "i don't mean to seem like i'm running away from you, i'm not."

you were sitting down again, hastily shoving the shoes onto your feet.

spencer was staring at that in an effort not to freak you out.

but he managed to ask "where do you work?" despite his pounding heart.

your eyes slipped towards him, as if on accident, and spencer thought you might've looked shocked, but then you looked away again. "oh, just a coffee shop a few blocks from here." you nodded, giving him a brief smile while tying your laces, then continued:

"well, it's not really a coffee shop--it's a breakfast place, actually--but no one ever comes in for breakfast. just coffee, mostly."

spencer swallowed. "i like breakfast."

you looked up to him, eyes alight in amusement, laughing.

spencer tried not to feel shocked at the fact that he'd just made you laugh.

"me too," you agreed, finally standing up, and reaching to grab the bag from him. "what's your favorite breakfast food?" you asked, smiling at him appreciatively when he handed it to you.

oh god, spencer hadn't been expecting that.

that's probably why he let slip out "donuts," without even thinking.

and again, for the second time now, it made you laugh.

"me too!" you repeated, smiling wider. "we don't sell any at the diner, but i'd pay our chefs to make me some if i could."

this was surreal, spencer thought.

"i like sprinkles on mine," he offered, having nothing else to say. you were just staring at him and really, what else was he supposed to say?

"you're a man of taste, spencer-" you paused, brow quirking. "i never asked your last name."

"oh," spencer's eyes went wide, and his hand shook with the effort it was taking him not to run out the door. "it's reid."

"spencer reid," you repeated it twice, laughing at something private, saying it as if it delighted you. you were still smiling, still looking at him. "i like that," you finished, smirking in something that spencer couldn't describe.

he didn't have anything else to say, except, oh god-

but then, a door closed somewhere else. a noise interrupted that thought spencer was trying to have, and you were clearing your throat, messing with the bag on your shoulder.

"it was very nice to meet you, spencer reid, and i'd love to hear you talk about science--it gets a bit boring coming from ben all the time." you smiled at him, a polite smile spencer realized he was familiar with now. "but, i do have to go."

spencer thought that he should say something, but it would seem that he had something stuck in his throat. something crawling down his insides, making itself known.

“benjamin!” you called as you began to walk toward the door, eyes darting to spencer as he watched you walk away, smile just the same. “you’ve got a guest!”

and then, you gave spencer one more grin, struggling to carry everything in your hands. struggling to keep your eyes focused, your hands still.

spencer recognized this too.

“don't let him annoy you too much." you said, hand on the doorknob, something that spencer had been thinking about only ten minutes before. "i hope i'll see you again, some time.”

and then you were out the door.

spencer, just stood there.

it was 19 times by the time the door slammed shut. his cheeks were warm.

wow, he thought, you were pretty.

my masterlist here.

part two here.

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fan #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fandom

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marvelous-harry · 3 years

Note

Hey bub!! I love your writing. I don’t know if your taking any requests or anything but if you are, could you write a little blurb about Harry and Y/N little girl having tantrums all day since she’s in her terrible twos age? Then at the end of the day Y/N and Harry finally settle her down and just cuddle on the couch and spend quality time with each other. Hope your having a great day/night. Love ya 🥰❤️

A/N: I'm so happy you like what I write! And thank you, I've had a very decent day, hope you did as well!

Ps. I don't wish a meltdown/tantrum-prone child on anyone. It's the worst. Arabic!Fem!Reader

x -

"I'll be right back, just going to grab your brother a snack. Would you like one?" I asked carefully as I picked up Idris from the floor and held him close. The 9-month-old was showing signs he was starting to get cranky and right now two crying children seemed like the end of the world.

"No! Want daddy!" Naima screamed at the top of her voice before the sobbing and screaming started back up again.

"Daddy will be home later, princess," I told her before walking into the kitchen.

"Dada," Idris babbled as he grabbed onto my necklace and put it in his mouth, chewing on it eagerly. I'd had to switch out my usual necklaces and bracelets to jewelry that was safe to chew on due to his teeth coming in fast and hard.

Grabbing a banana and some crackers, I made quick work of slicing the banana into small pieces and put it all in a bowl before grabbing a bag of fruit snacks as well in hopes of cheering up Naima. They were her favourite at the moment and she would usually want some.

Looking down at Idris, I stroked a hand over his dark curly hair and tried to psych myself up to go back into the living room. It had been non-stop all day. Everything was wrong. She wanted everything she couldn't have. I had done the gentle parent. The stern parent. The "I'll give you anything you want just please stop" parent. But nothing had worked. So now I was the "I'll be here if you need me, no you can't hit your brother and I'll just turn the tv on and hope you get distracted" parent, and it sucked.

Picking up the snacks, I readjusted my hold on Idris before walking back into the living room. As soon as she saw us coming back, she let out another loud cry and laid down on the floor crying her heart out.

I was changing Idris's nappy when I heard the front door open. Naima was off the ground in a second, running eagerly out of the nursery as she ran to Harry.

"Daddy!" She screamed happily and I tried to remember that she wasn't actively trying to break my heart on purpose. Picking up Idris from the changing table, I walked out of the nursery.

Harry and Naima were chatting away as they hugged each other, smiling and chuckling.

"Hi buddy, hi love," Harry said as I walked over. "You okay?" he asked as he shifted Naima over to his hip so he could grab Idris as well.

I just gave him a tight-lipped smile and nodded. "I'm fine. Could you maybe try and get Naima to eat something? And she needs a bath before bed if you feel like putting her to bed tonight?" I asked as I kept looking at Idris who did a little yawn.

"Of course I can, love," Harry said as he put Naima down and told her to go wash her hands and of course she listened. We moved down the hallway so we could keep an eye on her in the kitchen.

"I can take them both if you want? Give you a little alone time?" Harry said gently as he pulled me in for a hug.

"Do I really look that awful?" I mumbled back as I pressed myself close to him, letting myself lower my shoulders for a few seconds.

"You know that's not what I meant," Harry replied as Naima shouted she was finished washing her hands.

"I know," I sighed and pulled back. "And I'll take Idris. At least he likes me," I grabbed him from Harry's hands.

"Love," Harry said and tried to grab me.

"Later okay? I need to feed him," I tried giving him a little smile but it felt more like a grimace.

It was just past 7.30pm when I heard the door to our bedroom open and close gently, drawing me out of my half-asleep state. Sitting up, I glanced over at the crib and saw that Idris was still fast asleep.

"Naima?" I asked as Harry got on the bed and held out his hands for me. Shuffling over, I laid down against his chest.

"She's asleep. Or she will be any second, was exhausted. Bad day?" Harry asked as he rubbed my back.

I adjusted my position as I tried to come up with an answer, pressing my hand to my eyes as I felt them welling up.

"I know it's not personal. It was just so bad and nothing I did was right or good enough," I sniffled. "She was crying and screaming all day, and I couldn't help her,"

"Love, I'm so sorry you had a rough day. You're such a good mum to both our babies and we are so lucky to have you. Did you manage to eat enough today? Want me to make you something?" Harry reassured me as he pressed a kiss to my forehead and wiped away my tears.

"There's some Ben & Jerry's Rain-Dough in the freezer, that would be nice," I sniffled and looked up at him.

Harry grinned and nodded. "But I'm having some too, just so you know,"

I chuckled and grabbed my phone and the two baby monitors before getting off the bed with him. "Only if you promise to give me more cuddles,"

"I promise, love,"

#harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurbs #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #dad!harry #harry styles x reader

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babybluebex · 3 years

Text

english love affair [tom holland x reader]

➽ pairing: tom holland x fem!reader ➽ word count: 2.1k ➽ summary: you attend the bronx school of science, and you’re immediately taken by the new student: ben perkins. ➽ warnings: deception ig? ➽ a/n: PART 1! no idea how many parts this is gonna be, but stick around! (taglist link is in bio)

As soon as you stepped off the bus, you heard the chattering that only came from one occurrence. A new kid. That confused you, though. It certainly wasn’t unheard of for kids to drop in halfway through the semester, but, at your school, it was rare. The Bronx School of Science was an elite high school and it took amazing test scores and the grace of God to get in, so a new kid in the middle of the year was a rarity.

You saw him the moment you walked into your first period chemistry class. After all, he was the only face you didn’t recognize. Dark, curly hair that was just a bit long, with rosy cheeks and wide brown eyes. He seemed nervous; as new kids usually were. He wore a red hoodie, his hands shoved deep into the front pocket, and he was looking all around the room. The seat next to him was empty and, while it wasn’t your usual place, there was no formal seating chart. “You new?” you asked, swinging your backpack to the floor.

The boy looked at you with a keen alertness in his dark eyes, and he swallowed thickly. “Yeah,” he laughed softly. He sounded a little Queens, maybe; perhaps even Brooklyn. “Just, uh… Just moved here.”

“Nice,” you said. “From where?”

The boy clenched his jaw. “Queens,” he said, and you nodded.

“Well, welcome to the Bronx,” you laughed. “I’m Y/N.”

“Ben,” he said quickly. “Ah, Ben Perkins.”

“Ben Perkins from Queens,” you repeated. “What brings you here?”

Ben shrugged. “Parents,” he mumbled simply. Ben seemed like a guy of few words, but you didn’t mind too much. It was a welcome change from the other guys at your school who wouldn’t shut up.

You decided to not really say much to Ben. If he didn’t feel like talking, you didn’t want to push him and make him uncomfortable. The first day at a new school was stressful. “If you need help with any classes or anything, just let me know. Getting into the routine here is hard as shit.”

“Thanks,” Ben told you with a nod. “That’s quite nice.”

You couldn’t place why the usage of the word “quite” tickled the back of your brain. Maybe because you had never heard anyone use it like that. “You’re quite welcome,” you replied, biting the tip of your tongue. Ben looked at you and the rosiness in his cheeks grew deeper as he smiled.

The class started normally, until your teacher got to the Ps on the roll sheet. “Oh!” she cried. “We have a new student! Benjamin Perkins!”

Ben’s face grew red, this time not from laughter. He gave a quick two-finger to the class, and he mumbled, “Just Ben is fine, actually.”

“Welcome to the Bronx School, Ben,” your teacher said. “I’m sure you’ll do great here.”

About halfway through the lesson, you looked at the boy sitting beside you. He wore jeans and scuffed sneakers with the red hoodie, a dark curl bouncing along his forehead as he looked at the board and diligently copied notes. He was cute, a lot cuter than any boys you knew, and you wondered what he was like when he was in his element. His hands were big, veins popping as he gripped his pencil tightly. You took a second look at the mechanical pencil, and your heart soared. Quickly, you ripped a page out of your notebook and scribbled a quick “i like your pencil :)”, and you passed it over to Ben.

He tore his attention away from the lecture for long enough to look at your note, then at the pencil. It was red and blue with various white spiderwebs all around it. You liked the Spiderman pencil; your dad had practically raised you on the Toby Maguire Spiderman movies, so you liked anything Spiderman. In fact, you had been Spiderman for Halloween three years in a row when you were little. Not Spiderwoman, you said, Spiderman. Ben wrote something down and gave you the paper back, and you bit your lip as you read his message.

“spiderman’s pretty cool i guess. you like the movies?”

“yeah!! toby maguire’s awesome”

“cool. i like them too :)”

You invited Ben to sit with you at lunch, and he did. You usually sat alone, and you secretly liked having Ben there with you. You two talked about Spiderman, mostly: how Toby was a better Peter Parker but Andrew Garfield was the better Spiderman. “You know,” you started. “In the comics, Peter Parker becomes, like, an intern for Tony Stark. Tony makes him this suit and he becomes the Iron Spider.”

“Really?” Ben said. His eyebrows went up, and he scratched at a few upturned hairs. “That sounds cool.”

“I wish they’d add Spiderman to the MCU,” you added. “I think he’d fit really well with everyone, ya know? I mean, I guess they’d have to cast the right guy, but…” You shrugged. “A girl can dream, right?”

“Sure thing,” Ben said. “I like Robert Downey Jr. a lot, he seems really fun.”

“Oh, definitely!” you agreed. “And Chris Evans! Man, I’d love to meet them, I would just die right there.”

Ben smiled and nodded along with you, and he slotted his chin into his palm as he listened to you chatter about Avengers: Age of Ultron and Ant-Man. There was a hint of a smile on his lips, and you stopped mid sentence when you noticed it. “I just think Elizabeth Olsen is so underrated, and-- Ben. You alright?”

Ben blinked a few times. “Yeah,” he said. “M’all good. Just listening to you.”

You flushed. “I’m not talking too much?” you asked, feeling the urge to sink into yourself. “I’ve been told I do that.”

“No, not at all,” Ben said quickly. “I like it. I like how people get when they get excited about something, you know? It’s cute.”

“Cute,” you repeated, rolling the word around your mouth. Did Ben just call you cute? Or did he call the whole concept of your dumb blathering about some movies cute? Did that still qualify as calling you cute? You raised your eyes to his and, nervously picking at a loose thread on your sweater, hazarded, “You think I’m cute?”

Ben shrugged. “I mean, yeah,” he said, as if it was obvious. “You just seem so passionate about those movies. I would listen to you talk about them for a long time.”

“You wouldn’t want to.”

“I do,” Ben said quickly. “I promise you, I don’t mind one bit. I’d tell you if I did.”

You nodded again, and you scooted just a bit closer to Ben. “For the record,” you started. “I think you’re cute too.”

Ben smiled, little dimples appearing in his cheeks. “Cool.”

Before the day ended, Ben had given you his phone number. “I don’t have Snapchat or anything,” he said. “Strict parents, ya know? But I’d love to talk to you.”

You liked the way that Ben texted. He used a lot of emojis and even a few goofy emoticon faces, a la 2012, and he signed every text off with xx. With texting, you felt like Ben was a little more open than at school, probably because it was just the two of you, completely private. And, man, did the boy talk. He sent two, three, four messages in a row, just spewing thoughts the second he thought them. You didn’t mind one single bit, though; but your parents did.

Even though the sound was off and your phone was in your pocket, the entire dinner table could hear your phone buzzing. “Is someone calling you?” your dad asked. “Your phone just keeps going off.”

“Oh, no,” you said, your face going warm. Quickly, you pulled out your phone and set it completely silent, and the buzzing ceased. “Sorry. Just texts.”

“From who?” you mom asked.

“A boy from school,” you began, fully intent on explaining the situation, but your little brother was quicker to the uptake than you.

“Ooh, Y/N has a boyfriend!” he squealed.

“Shut up, you little fungus!” you hissed. Brothers of any age were unbearable, but 13 was an especially difficult age, you had come to find.

“Don’t call your brother a fungus,” you mom sighed. “That boy’s texting you an awful lot, though, Y/N.”

You shrugged. “He’s new,” you said. “Just asking questions about school and stuff.”

“And his name?” your dad asked.

“Ben Perkins,” you said. “He just moved from Queens.”

“He’s a senior?” your mom asked and, when you nodded, her eyebrows creased. “That poor boy, moving schools in the middle of his senior year. Well, good for you, making new friends. I bet he really appreciates you.”

Tom slumped himself down on the couch. You weren’t answering his texts and, while he knew that you probably had homework or were eating dinner or any number of other things, he couldn’t help the anxiety that filled him at the thought that maybe he had scared you off.

Tom hadn’t had a normal high school experience by any means. Sure, secondary school was a thing that was semi-normal, but normal in the sense that everyone around him was in the same boat. And he was certain that British secondary school was a hell of a lot different than American high school. Hence, the joke that had landed him here.

“It would be funny if I went to an American high school for a few days. Just to see what it’s like, ya know?”

Apparently, Anthony and Joe Russo didn’t seem to understand his British sense of humor, because he was on a flight to New York within the week. The Russos had helped him come up with the bare bones of a backstory: Ben Perkins, originally from Queens. American. 17. Quiet. It was a far cry from Tom Holland, originally from London, British, 19, and loud. But the Russos, in their infinite wisdom, had seen through Tom’s joke and understood something that was integral to the character that had taken Tom a few days to really see.

Peter B. Parker was a high schooler. A smart one, an unusual one, but he was still 15 and trying to understand himself and the world. Tom didn’t have that knowledge; at least, not in the way that Peter Parker would have had it. He needed to see the inside of an American high school to get to the core of his character, and even Tom understood that. The filming for Captain America: Civil War hadn’t started and the news of Spidey’s introduction into the Marvel Cinematic Universe hadn’t hit the airwaves yet, but Tom knew that, if his contract was to be upheld in the way that Sony and Marvel had promised, he would have plenty of time to use this high school experience to better the character.

Tom really and truly did not intend to develop a crush on a girl. Yes, a beautiful, smart, and funny girl that shared a love for the same things he did, but he was sure that the Russos would disapprove of it. After all, he was only slated to go to the Bronx School of Science for three days. There wasn’t nearly enough time to have anything more than a crush. But you. There was something about you, something intangible. He had felt a pull in his stomach when you first walked into the room and, when he had texted Harry about it, his brother had only laughed at him and made a joke about wanting to get his dick wet. And, yes, while that thought was in Tom’s mind, you were already so much more to him than that.

As much as Ben Perkins was a character, Tom felt like he could be himself around you. He had shared stories from growing up, mostly about his brothers pulling shenanigans, and had shown you pictures of him and Tessa when he had first gotten her. The little squeal and sigh that had left you when you saw the puppy made his heart swell. Then, he had said something that still made his stomach turn: “Maybe you can meet her soon.”

What a great fucking thing to say to someone that he would have to abandon in three days. Sure, he could keep texting you after he left, but he would have to explain everything to you. He knew what your reaction would be, too; somewhere along the lines of laughing at him and going, “Dude, you’re fuckin’ nuts, bro.” Or, on the other end of the spectrum, getting mad at him for lying to you. He was sure that you would be more mad than amused. And, after the conversation that you two had shared about your requited love for Spiderman, he knew that trying to tell you wouldn’t land him anywhere except alone again.

And, God. Tom was tired of being alone.

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader angst #tom holland x y/n angst #angst fanfiction #fluff fanfiction #tom holland fic #high school au #sorta??

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thirdtimesthecharmsworld · 3 years

Text

Umbrella Academy Fanfic

Preface: I’m a big fan of Dead Like Me, the 2003 tv show created by Bryan Fuller. This fanfiction I’ve written is pretty much a crossover between the two universes, but with my own original character instead. It’s a bit convoluted, story-wise, so I apologize in advance if you read this and it doesn’t make any sense. Also, I wrote this in the span of a month, and there are multiple parts. I’ve decided I can’t keep it locked it up in my Google Docs anymore so here you go.

PS: This is the first time I’m posting anything I’ve written on here, so I’d actually appreciate any constructive criticism anyone may have!

As many times as I’ve done this, the young ones never sit right with me. Their big doe eyes always seem to pierce my soul. If I even still have one.

There were surprised gasps at first. Then silence. The room we are gazing on is covered in blood. And after the scene I just witnessed, I wasn’t even sure how much of it was his. He looks so despaired. He was really just left in parts, chunks of a child strewn everywhere. I felt sick. After all these years, the bloody ones still got to me. And this one, a kid. I turn away, reaching out reflexively to grip at his shoulder. He looks up at me, I can see, in my peripheral vision. I close my eyes, feeling my stomach turn. And then they started wailing. Deep, shuddering breaths and sobbing cries. I don’t think they even knew they were doing it, the six kids standing there in the carnage. I don’t have to turn and look to know they were clutching at each other, wracked with emotions. And I can’t take it anymore.

The metal door swings on its hinges as I rush out. There is a bang behind me as it hits the wall, but the only thing I’m focused on is trying to control my breathing. The last time I’d seen anything so bloody was Mom. An image: her blonde hair soaked red, against the rocks, my tears soaking Sofer’s jacket as he held me. My stomach turns again, and I lean over, my hands on my bent knees. Everything swims in front of me, my eyes now brimming with tears. Panic set it. I couldn’t do anything back then either. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save anyone, I couldn’t do anythi-

“Hello?” a timid voice behind me.

Oh, the kid. I’d forgotten about the kid. The images, the thoughts, the guilt I felt, leave my mind and I focus on the post-it note I feel burning a hole in my pocketbook. Of course I couldn’t save them, that wasn’t my job. My job is just to help them move on, go forward.

I draw a deep breath, almost losing it at the stench of the alleyway. I swipe my hand across my eyes as I turn around. Short black hair frames a delicate face. His school-boy attire seems unfitting for the ordeal I know he just went through. And he’s so small. Granted, I’m only a couple feet taller than him, but I can just see how small he is from the way he stands, so defeated, so confused, so innocent. I feel my eyes brimming with tears again, but offer a wavering smile I hope will comfort him.

“Hey, kid.” I utter. He just stares at me. I suck in a breath, the smile fading. Looking down at my shoes, I draw the courage to continue, “I know you have a shit-load of questions. But if it’s okay with you,” I look up, “I’d like to get out of here.” His brows furrow, and he turns to look through the door into the museum. I can faintly still hear the wails of his siblings, and I recognize that’s what he’s thinking of. But the bloody image flashes in my mind again, and I know that he understands, deep down, why he can’t go back there. Why he didn’t feel anything at the moment all that carnage took place. Why he’s numb now.

He turned, looked me in the eyes. He’s still hesitant, I can tell, but the understanding I knew he feels is there, just at the surface of his demeanor. He nods, and I walk forward. I gesture toward the opening of the alley, and we keep walking.

It doesn’t feel right to try and comfort him then, to try and explain that I understand what he feels. That, though I look 15, I know what it feels like to die.

We keep walking, police cars and ambulances passing us, until we reach the bookstore. Luckily, it wasn’t very far. He still hasn’t said anything by the time we reach the door, but I was expecting as much. I glance up at Cindy behind the cash register as I walk in. She nods, and comes to flip the sign at the front to CLOSED as we walk to the back. I grab the clothes and wet wipes I’d stored in the closet on my way to the table. Ben follows silently behind me.

I clear my throat, “So,” I started, “I guess I’ll ask you first. Do you have any pressing questions, or if you want me to jump right into it?”

He doesn’t look at me, just stares at the cup of tea in front of him. He looks even smaller with the big blanket covering him. I sigh, “Look, I-”. God, it’s a kid, I don’t know what to say to kids. And I haven’t even gotten a kid in a long time. I don’t even remember what I said to the last one. I look at him again. He is all bundled up in that blanket, blood still covering him. I’d offered the wipes but he didn’t reach out for them. I think he’s still in shock. Memories of my own death trickle in.

“It didn’t really hurt when I died.” I state.

He blinks. Finally, a response.

I continue, “I mean, mine wasn’t all that brutal, so of course it didn’t really hurt.” I look down at the sleeve of my sweater. “It was my birthday, actually. I’d just turned 16, which was the youngest age you had to be to get a job back then. Of course, Mom said she didn’t want me to do that. The people I was living with then were really nice, you know? It was the Great Depression, as you guys call it; so there wasn’t really much of a chance for food, much less money to buy food. But I-I remember wanting to help, to try and find a job or some food or something- anything really. I don’t know why I thought I could help. Like I said, I hadn’t eaten in a long time,” I chuckle. “Anyway, I went out in the night, so nobody’d ask questions. I figured I’d try to go into the city. I don’t even remember how I got there, to the city. I was just so tired. We lived a bit further out than everybody else, which was also why it was hard to find stuff. It took longer than I thought it would. I was so weak by the time I got there; so tired. It was so bright up close; all the lights and stuff. The smell was horrible, and the people I saw all looked sick. But I was determined to find something, some way to help my family. And then I smelled it. Food; it made my stomach growl like crazy. I looked up and I saw a line of people in front of a soup kitchen, and I saw people holding soup, and it looked so good. I stepped out into the street, to cross the road, and...and that was it. It was over...like that. And I wasn’t hungry anymore. I wasn’t tired, I wasn’t anything” I sniffle. “It was a car. It came barreling down the road, totally reckless. When I came to, Sofer was there. He told me what’d happened right away. He said that it was some guy with a pregnant wife in the backseat. Told me I was dead, and he was a reaper.”

oops, I guess that’s the end of the story. I look up at the kid across from me-saying his name felt too personal right now. He’s staring at me, and with dread I notice tears in his eyes. He is clutching the cup of tea in front of him. He looks a little scared, actually, and I feel bad all of a sudden. I didn’t mean to make him sad, I thought I was doing the right thing. God, I don’t know what to say to kids.

“Sorry,” I mutter, concern filling me as I lean closer to him, “I didn’t mean to scare you, kid, I just- I- God, I don’t know, I guess I thought it would help.” Speaking, obviously, wasn’t the right move, as all of a sudden the tears are rolling down his cheeks. “Shit,” I exclaim, reaching across the table to grab his hand, “I’m sorry. It’s okay, it- it’s okay, I mean, yeah, you died, but you’re okay now, right?” That also wasn’t the right thing to say, because he has started crying even harder. “Oh, no,” I scoop him up, holding him to my chest as I gently just sit down on the floor. “Oh, god, I’m sorry! Oh, I’m so sorry.” I can’t stop apologizing, I can’t stop hushing him, rocking back and forth with him in my arms. I am horrible at this. I am so, so bad at this. Why did Sofer have to leave me here alone? Now tears are pricking at my eyes, and I can’t stop thinking of all the people I’ve failed, all the people who took so long to get beyond the veil because of me. Me and my stupid emotions. I am full blown crying now. I still can’t stop apologizing, and tears silently stream down my face and soak the blanket Ben is wrapped in. Ben. Dammit, I made it personal.

It was a good 10 minutes at least until Cindy came to the back and saw us still on the floor. He’d stopped crying by then, worn himself out. We were just sitting there, staring off into the distance. I’d started brushing his hair subconsciously, and he didn’t stop me. He was definitely worn out. She helped me lead him to the cot in the guest room, and he laid down and closed his eyes. I didn’t have the heart to tell him he couldn’t really sleep; he was dead. I leave the door open a crack, figuring he’d realize soon enough and come back out. Cindy is staring at me when I turn from closing the door. I glare at her, “Not a word,” I mutter as I move to clean away the mugs on the table. In my peripheral, I can see her raise her hands in defense, “I didn’t say anything!” she exclaims. I roll my eyes, “Yeah, but you were thinking something, and that’s just as distracting.” I hear her sigh, “Look, it’s just that this is the second one this week, and it isn’t like you to do this more than once every couple of years, maybe.” Dammit, she has a point.

“Cindy, I just...I just don’t know what to do when it’s a kid,” I whisper, turning to face her. She looks sad, like she pities me. God, I hate it when she pities me.

“I know that, but the one earlier this week was, like 100.” I glare at her again, walking over to the sink with my mug bounty, “She was 95, okay? And anyway, I was only sad because I knew you wouldn’t let me keep her dog.” Cindy rolls her eyes, scoffing, “Yeah, no, that’s such a blatant lie, I’m even more concerned now. I fucking love dogs, okay, and you know that!” My head shoots up, eyes wide, “Cut it out with the cussing,” I hiss. She looks even more concerned, appalled even.

“The cussing?!” she exclaims. I lift my finger up to my lips, worried her volume will wake Ben. She doesn’t stop talking, but does lower her voice, glancing at the door to the bedroom, “The cussing? You’re worried about me fucking cussing now?”.

“Yeah, Cin,” I continue, taunting her with her most hated nickname, “I’m worried about you cussing now. It’s not my fault you’re always cursing like a-” I stop myself quickly and grimace at my mistake. There’s silence for a beat as I turn my head slowly to look at her, overly smiling apologetically. She’s pretty much livid now. There’s not usually much I can do when she’d livid. I open my mouth, “I’m sor-”. The sting of her slap on my back is something I’m used to, but I gasp in shock and let out a laugh. I continue apologizing, “I’m sorry De, I’m sorry!”. I laugh as she hits me two more times, not hard- never hard- but enough to get her point across.

“Low blow, man,” she mutters, coming closer to help me with the dishes. I chuckle a bit, “Well, it’s not like I finished the sentence,” I try to defend myself. She just glares at me, and we wash dishes for a couple more minutes. Cindy’s death was more brutal than mine. And being raped and killed by a sailor in the 40s left a bad taste in her mouth when it comes to certain phrases. In the quiet aftermath of our fight, I pucker my lips at something she said, “It was a chihuahua.” Cindy looks up at me. “The lady’s dog, it was a chihuahua, that’s why I knew you wouldn’t want to keep it,” I explain. She smiles, then furrows her brow, “You hate chihuahuas too, though. Why would you want to keep it?” Dammit, she’s got another point. Why would I want to keep some angry old dog that belonged to some old lady I don’t even know? I think of her face, all wrinkled, but full of comfort and love. Warmth. It reminds me of Mom, holding me tight. She was always so warm. It didn’t hurt when I died, but it sure as hell hurt when she did.

“Pen?” Cindy says softly. I’m pulled out of my stupor. I shake myself, look at her. That was a mistake. She looks so concerned, so sad for me. I feel warmth on my arm, and look down at her hand on my bicep. I sigh, turning to put the dishes I was holding in the sink, and then grabbing a dish towel to dry my hands. While Cindy dries hers too, I pull out my pocketbook and flip through to get to the right page. I peel the post-it off the page and hand it to Cindy. She grabs it daintily. Her face changes as she reads it, “Oh, Pen,” she whispers with remorse. I lower my head, leaning back against the counter, “Yeah,” I sigh.

Written on the post-it is a name, a time, and a place. The name, though, is why Cindy’s now looking at me like I’m going to start breaking down any second. Which I definitely would, if it weren’t for the fact that I just did that with Ben 5 minutes ago. The name reads, Margaret Selorde, and it’s been breaking my heart since Thursday.

“How is this even possible,” Cindy whispers. I chuckled sadly, “Margaret is a pretty popular name, D, I don’t know what you mean.” She looks up, tilting her head and furrowing her brow as if to say, “Yeah, dipshit, I know Margaret is a popular name.” I sigh at that look, “It’s actually her.” Cindy’s mouth drops in surprise, “Seriously?” she whispers, and I nod, thankful she didn’t point out that I just said “is”, and not “was”.

“Penny told me. Then she looked into it when she got the ledger,” I explain, “found some old records on it at the library. And texted me right away,” I smile. Cindy’s face says it all. Her eyebrows are pulled together and her eyes are watering. She doesn’t pity me, she’s heartbroken for me. Penny had to take the soul of my adopted sister, the only part of my family left.

I look back down at my shoes, tears pricking my eyes, “She recognized me, actually,” I sniffle, “Penny showed her a picture of me,” I chuckle, watery. I clear my throat and pick my head up, still not looking at Cindy, but rather a spot on the doorway across the room, “Penny said she-she said she always knew I ended up okay. She said she always had a feeling.” I pause, then look at

The door to the guest room creaks, and I whip my head around. Ben’s standing there, skin still covered in dried blood. He looks so small, so innocent, so- “Hey, kid,” Cindy says. I turn to look at her, trying to communicate with my eyes that talking to him might not be the best idea, because I still don’t know what’s going on in his mind. She ignores me, “Do you want something?” she asks. I look back at him, and remark again at the blood all over his clothes. He doesn’t say anything, but looks at me. It hurts, strikes me to the core-my soul, if I still have one. I feel the urge to explain Cindy’s presence, “She’s like me, and she’s my roommate,” I awkwardly explain. He looks back at Cindy, who smiles. The silence is deafening. I can’t stop looking at him, at the blood.

“Hey, if you want, you can use the bathroom over there,” I point to the door next to the guest room, “to, um, well, wash off.” God dammit, why am I so bad with kids? Ben looks, though, at the bathroom door, and then down at his hands. I feel bad again as his eyes begin to fill with tears all over again. He rushes to the bathroom in a flash, shutting the door tight behind him. I grimace at it all, and turn to face Cindy again. She looks appalled as she hands me back the post-it note, “What did you even say to him?” she whispers. I throw my hands up, making sure to keep the post-it secure in one of my hands, “I don’t know,” I whisper back fiercely, “I told you, I’m bad with kids!” Cindy chuckles, still looking concerned about him, “He was so small,” she insists quietly, “and bloody,” she wrinkles her nose. I sigh, remembering the carnage, “Yeah, it was brutal.” Cindy looks at me, all of a sudden very serious, “Did someone…” she trails off, making a throat-slitting gesture. I shake my head fervently, “No, no, no, no,” I reassure her, and she sighs, “He did it himself,” I explain. Her eyes are big as saucers, and she’s absolutely heartbroken, “He did it himself?!” I chuckle at her expression, surprised she got to that conclusion, “Oh my god, sit down, I’ll just explain it to you.”

#dead like me #the umbrella academy #fanfic

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jellysharkbat · 4 years

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Something I've been thinking about.

So generally speaking, as we grow older, we tend to forgot memories. Memories that are created the moment we born, of infancy, of early toddler years. Poof. Gone. At best, I'm going to guess that maybe most of us remember only a couple things before the age of...4 or 5 years old.

But what if they didn't disappear entirely? What if they were just buried beneath years of living?

What if there was a spell or magical object that transported people into memories long past?

Let's say Inky & co found something. This spell or magical object. At first they're cautious since they don't know what it can do.

Fair enough.

But what if they became more curious as a little bit of time passed? And some of them (Inky and the Inner Circle) just can't stop themselves feom being curious. What is it? What was it used for? How does it work? What does it do?

What if they accidentally triggered it, and suddenly it began to work? What if they, and anyone in the near vicinity, went for a little ride?

You know that bit in Harry Potter where Harry goes into Dumbledore's memories? And he's little better than a ghost, observing what's happening in the memory?

It's like that.

They find themselves in a market. Inky, their conspirators, and- as it happens- Cullen who had ben passing by the room when it went off. He is very unimpressed once they all realize something happened with their shiny toy. They don't know what, or whete they are. They don't realize they're inside of a memory.

At first they think they teleported somewhere.

So they go to explore a little, to find out where they are, you know? But it becomes pretty obvious something's up when they can't talk to anyone or interact with anything. It's like they're invisible.

They sliwly group back up, but they notice thst one of them seems to be in some sort of stupor.

Cullen's got this slightly dazed look on his face, and he can't take his eyes off of a young woman about twenty feet away from him.

She's very pretty, and she's smiling and laughing with some other women.

Someone- let's say Sera because I can- makes a crack about live at first sight. That Cullen's clearly been bewitched by this woman. She's instantly ready to make fun of him for being so obviously out of it. In fact so is everyone else, because they really can't resist such a golden opportunity to tease Cullen.

But then she's turning away from her friends- and towards them as it so happens. They can now see a baby in her arms (only a few months old at most), looking around curiously while trying to shove a tiny hand into their mouth. Unlike the mother, the baby seems more interested in staring at something else and finding out how edible a hand is.

The jokes almost immediately begin to turn to commiserations. She must have a family of her own, too bad, Cullen was too late. Perk up, eh? Plenty of fish in the sea and all that.

He ignores everything they say, his eyes never leaving the woman and her baby.

She begins to nuzzle the infant, and she lifts a chubby hand (the one not being stuffed into a mouth) as her friends call back to her to loudly say their goodbyes.

She's smiling so wide her cheeks must hurt as she makes her baby 'wave' at her friends. Because she's so close to Inky & co, they can hear what she's saying to her baby:

"Say bye-bye Cullen! Bye-bye!" She laughs into that tiny head of blond curls as a chubby fist tries to curl around one of her fingers. She tosses her own blonde curly hair over her shoulder as they walk away.

"Bye," Cullen whispers softly. Almost like he can't help himself. He has to stop himself from following her, and it almost looks like it's painful for him to do so.

Meanwhile Inky is putting two and two together and has a shocked expression growing. So does everyone else, and suddenly they all start to wonder.

That woman did look an awful lot like...and she was talking to her baby, right? Who she called...

Holy shitballs.

PS @lostinfantasies38 @darlingrutherford side note, if Alistair happened to be in the group, this would be his first and only glimpse at Cullen's family. And by extension- because shipping or no shipping once you're besties you get adopted into each other's families- his own.

#at this point #let's say Cullen hasn't talked about his family #well he's mentioned his siblings but not his parents #they don't know that they're dead #yet #and they don't realize that while they died 11 years ago #Cullen hadn't seen them since he was 13 #for a heartbreaking moment #he wants to go home #he wants to follow his mother home #in a village that-in this memory- still exists #cullen Rutherford #its late #I'm rambling #but enioy my weird scenario because feels #bittersweet feels all around

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beca-mitchell · 4 years

Text

fool’s gold (1/1)

Summary: Beca finds herself in Colorado bidding on a date with one Chloe Beale. Accidentally, of course. Besides, it’s for charity. Set after PP3.

Word count: 4,216

Rating: T

Read below or on AO3.

Beca finds out about it accidentally. A total accident wherein she did not intend to find out this information. She had been perusing the Bellas groupchat, a chat which she had been slightly too busy to participate in recently, when something caught her eye.

Chloe’s name plus the word “date”. It had taken a few tries and a few shaky swipes of her finger before she figures out that Chloe is participating in some charity event.

Beca hesitates at first, about to type out a message to Chloe right in the groupchat, but she quickly switches over to her private conversation with Chloe and winces when she realizes that her and Chloe haven’t really kept up an ongoing text conversation (and hardly any phone calls) over the past few months.

Beca sighs, flipping back to the groupchat and hoping against hope that somebody else—probably Aubrey or Flo—will ask Chloe about it.

Flo F. What kind of charity is it?

Chloe Every year, the senior vet students run some kind of fundraiser. This year it's for research. In the past, this auction thing has been a huge hit!!

Fat Amy So you’re selling your body? Nothing wrong with that of course.

Chloe No, I’m just…auctioning off a date.

Beca puts her phone down slowly.

Had three and a half years really flown by that quickly? Chloe was almost done with veterinary school and Beca felt like she was still struggling to stay afloat herself.

Well, that was a little untrue. Six Billboard Top 100 hits, a Grammy nomination, a North American tour with an international tour on its way, her first album had gone platinum with the second hot on its heels—

It’s just that Chloe Beale had always seemed so wholly unattainable even with everything that had transpired between them. And Beca wasn’t completely stupid, she knew some of this was her own fault, but life just came at her too fucking fast.

(This being the whole ‘we definitely have feelings for each other but we are also definitely not doing anything about it because one of us is in Colorado and the other is in California sometimes but not always’ thing. God, that always knocked the wind out of Beca. In any case, it had been one weekend of Chloe visiting Los Angeles and a drunken kiss that led to a little more, but nothing really, then an unspoken decision to never speak about it again.

Yeah. This.)

— — — — —

It takes Beca another two hours to finally message Chloe and she almost has a heart attack when she pulls up their conversation.

Chloe’s last sweet dreams! xo stares back at her accusingly.

Beca So, a date huh?

She groans.

Yes, obviously a date. Aubrey already asked for more details an hour ago and the groupchat had long moved on.

Chloe’s reply is nearly instantaneous.

Chloe ??

Beca The whole auction thing you know for charity

Chloe oh haha, yeah. It’ll be nothing. Just some rich student with too much to spend. I don’t have my hopes up or anything.

But if Chloe could have her hopes for somebody in particular…Beca’s fingers tap anxiously on the edge of her table as she stares back at Chloe’s innocent-enough message.

Beca oh, well fingers crossed lol

Chloe yeah.

Beca winces at the one-word response, telling herself not to read too much into it—it doesn’t mean anything, they’re fine, they’re fine, they’re fine—

Chloe I miss you

She sighs in relief.

Beca miss you too chlo

— — — — —

“You didn’t ask her out yet?” is Theo’s confused inquiry. “Wait, you weren’t dating already?”

“Just—just look up flights to Colorado.”

“I’m not your assistant, just in case you forgot.”

“I know, but Jeff’s on the fritz today and I don’t need another snide remark from him.”

“Snide remark? About what?”

“…about Chloe.”

“Ah.”

— — — — —

Beca isn’t sure how she ends up here, but she ends up doing some casual research about this supposed senior tradition at CSU’s veterinary college and it ends up being more of a thing than Beca originally expects. Like a super serious thing where people buy tickets to attend.

All proceeds go to the National Animal Disease Center and the Animal Welfare Institute. Tickets at the door will be $55.

Beca stares at the long list of details and scrolls for an embarrassing amount of time until she finds a list of “Auction Participants”. She exhales noisily through her nose when she finds Chloe’s name, surprised to see separate profiles attached to all the students participating.

Chloe Beale, Rising 4th Year Veterinary Student, DVM Candidate

Chloe enjoys singing and morning runs. She will probably fight you over whether the CSU Rams could hold up against the Barden University Knights. In her spare time, she enjoys volunteering at Larimer Humane Society as well as the CSU Zoo. You might have seen her running a few weekend educational programs for children 10 and under.

PS. She’s single!

Beca isn’t sure what grates on her more, the fact that the description doesn’t say anything about how Chloe hums her favorite songs when she gets nervous, or how Chloe’s hair grows at least a shade and a half lighter during the summer, or—or how Chloe can talk at length about nearly anything if she thinks it’s something that another person will find interesting. She is selfless and beautiful inside and out.

And that last line. Beca’s fist clenches. She isn’t sure why it annoys her so much, but she hates the idea of this auction gimmick even if she knows instinctively that it is all in good fun and Chloe genuinely wouldn’t have consented to it if she didn’t believe in it or trust everybody who would be participating. Still, maybe Beca doesn’t want Chloe to…be single.

Her brow furrows at that last tapered-off thought.

To distract herself, she taps Theo’s number into her phone and waits with bated breath.

“Hello?”

“Did you book the ticket yet?” she asks in lieu of greeting.

She’ll let his amused chuckle slide this once.

— — — — —

So maybe it isn’t really an accident.

She’s in Fort Collins, Colorado, on a beautiful but pretty damn chilly campus. Beca pulls her windbreaker tighter around herself and tugs her scarf up over her mouth and nose. She hasn’t been recognized yet, but she has a suspicion that there have been two young ladies following her, but she can’t be certain.

Though her fame is manageable, it still flares up unexpectedly and at inopportune times.

Like the last time she had visited Chloe on campus and they had spent the weekend eating at Chloe’s favorite spots and drinking cheap wine until they were laughing and leaning heavily against each other. Beca had loved the scent of Chloe’s shampoo as it wafted up from where Chloe had her head pressed against Beca’s shoulder and neck, her giggles tapering off into nothing. Back then, they hadn’t kissed yet—Beca was still recovering from the sting of seeing Chloe kiss Chicago even though it had happened months prior, but nothing had ever transpired.

And for a moment, when Chloe lifted her head off Beca’s shoulder, Beca had thought Chloe was going to kiss her. And she wouldn’t have minded, not at all. It had been something she had been thinking about for so long that Beca’s heart began to pound in anticipation. Then Chloe’s roommate had let herself into the apartment despite Chloe’s insistence they were going to be alone and she had recognized Beca surprisingly quick considering Beca had only one or two viral music videos released at the time. Beca hadn’t been sure, but Chloe had looked supremely disappointed.

Focusing back on the present, Beca gazes at the familiar, yet unfamiliar campus. She had made sure earlier that there hadn’t been a completely strict dress code for the event and opts for a loose wool sweater and nice jeans (a memory of Chloe’s fleeting “those jeans make your ass look good” passes through her mind, but she pays it no mind). She buys a lanyard with the CSU name and mascot emblazoned on it. Just to add to the look.

She finds the student center soon enough. Happy to be out of the chill for a moment, Beca pulls her scarf down but leaves her toque on, keeping it tight over her eyebrows.

“Hey,” a voice calls instantly and Beca jumps because for a moment, it sounds like Chloe. But that would be impossible, she’s barely been there five seconds— “I know you, you’re Chloe’s friend, right?”

Beca turns to see young man, around her age, smiling in a completely nonthreatening manner. She vaguely recognizes him from some of Chloe’s social media posts, but she can’t quite place his name. “Hi,” she says instead.

“Did Chloe invite you to this?” he asks, sounding entirely too amused for Beca’s liking.

“Uh…” Beca isn’t sure what the better answer would be—yes, Chloe invited poor hapless Beca Mitchell to watch her get auctioned off and alternatively the implication that Chloe would need some pull from somebody like Beca which is dumb because despite the crappy dating profile on the website, Chloe needs no help at all; or no, Beca invited herself because she’s there on a mission. “Hm,” she says evasively instead. “Sorry, what was your name again?”

“Benjamin, but you can call me—”

Beca smiles. “Ben,” she finishes. It’s cute how much he reminds her of Benji. “Chloe posts about you a lot.”

“Yeah, we kind of…” he laughs, pushing up his glasses. “Bonded, I guess. She’s been a good friend. Helped set me up with my boyfriend.” He nods his head towards the door. “Want to come sit with us? We’re mainly here for the show and the food. Do you have your ticket?”

Beca blushes but tamps it down as best as she can. “Uh no, I was gonna buy at the door.”

He grins again, but says nothing about that. “Okay, we’ll see you inside. We’re kind of near the back. Turn left when you get in.”

— — — — —

The emcee is fairly decent and Beca cracks a laugh at a few jokes. She has a pretty good view of the stage and she feels comfortable enough sitting near Chloe’s friends. They seem to take a shine to her and teasingly press an auction paddle into her hands.

“For an emergency,” Ben says, mirth in his eyes. And something akin to knowing, as if he knows something Beca doesn’t. She tries to scowl at him, but she misses that opportunity because Chloe is being walked on stage looking like—

“Oh,” Beca murmurs, blushing when she can feel eyes on her. There is no way Chloe can see her in the crowd because she’s sure the spotlight is bright enough based on Chloe’s squint and embarrassed smile. But otherwise, Chloe looks stunning, wearing a pretty blue sundress and white doctor’s coat. Beca blinks back the unexpected surge of emotion—not quite tears, but her eyes do sting a little—that she gets upon seeing Chloe in person for the first time in at least a year.

God, she had gone a whole year without seeing Chloe’s face—without having Chloe’s hands to hold and Chloe’s arms around her.

She never wants to do that again. She never wants to be apart from Chloe for that long, too afraid of her own feelings to push for something she knows Chloe wants as well. She had seen it in Chloe’s eyes over the past decade and more of knowing her. Chloe, her best friend and confidante—the person who most got on her nerves but also knew how to put her back together in more ways than one—

“We’ll start the bidding at fifty dollars! Ten-dollar interval minimum, please and thank you.”

There’s some cheering and laughter in the crowd from a group near the front. Chloe blushes again under the spotlight, but she flips off the group whom Beca assumes consists of people Chloe knows well enough.

“That’s kind of low,” Beca comments.

“You should bid,” Vlad, Ben’s boyfriend, suggests.

“No, I’m just here for support,” Beca replies distractedly as another person bids up to $100. Beca’s fingers tighten momentarily around the paddle before she relaxes and wills herself to scan the crowd as nonchalantly as possible. But before she can really settle down—

“Two hundred!”

It’s arguably the biggest jump Beca has heard over the last few auctions and the murmur that rushes through the crowd indicates that they think it’s something worthwhile as well.

Beca tries not to think about how she made two-hundred dollars in the first minute—probably less—of releasing her second single on Spotify.

“Two-fifty,” a female voice calls out, distinctly confident and self-assured. Beca notes that the blush on Chloe’s face is a little different now, this time a little shy and demure like she knows that person and is touched by the gesture.

“Who is that?” Beca asks quickly.

“Oh, I think that was Amelia,” Vlad says when he notices that his boyfriend is not responding. “She’s in Chloe’s cohort.”

But who is she, Beca wants to demand further.

“Two-seventy,” the same male voice from earlier counters, though with a tinge of hesitation.

“Three hundred,” ‘Amelia’ counters.

A pause. “Three-twenty.”

“Four-fifty.” Without hesitation. An excited murmur ripples through the crowd. Chloe’s hands are now covering her face, but Beca sees that she’s smiling ever so slightly.

“She likes her,” Ben says simply.

“Who likes who.” Beca considers this a very important distinction.

“Amelia likes Chloe.”

“And does Chloe like Amelia?”

“They’re friends.” He stares at Beca pointedly. “Like you guys are friends, right? So what’s a little competition.”

“But Chloe and I are—we’re—”

Beca finds she has no real justification, no real insight to offer because she and Chloe have been teetering on that edge of almost for so long that she has forgotten what it meant when competition came along.

Until Chicago.

And before that, for Chloe, Jesse, but Beca had been nearly completely blind to it.

And now this.

Beca’s hand is rising before she can stop herself. Her brain seems to shut down completely—the rational part at least—as her heart grabs the reins. It’s stupid, it’s archaic, but this is for Chloe (almost literally, but Beca will never succumb to the belief that this is any valid way to date somebody). “Seven hundred,” she calls out. Her eyes widen when heads swivel to her and she quickly ducks, pulling her scarf back up to her nose and mouth. She waves her paddle above her head, too embarrassed to see whether Chloe’s eyes are scanning the crowd for her.

“Holy shit,” Ben mutters.

“Eight hundred,” Amelia counters somewhere in the distance, but suddenly Beca’s ears are roaring with the oddest sound—like a chorus of fucking angels or something.

“Oh my God, the animals are lucky today,” somebody mutters somewhere to Beca’s left.

“A thousand,” Beca counters.

“Um—” Ben seems to think better of it and clamps his mouth shut, though he looks like he might laugh, or worse, smile at Beca. God.

“A thousa—”

Beca’s had it. “Two thousand!”

The shocked silence that follows is enough to tell Beca that she’s completely lost it.

(But she lost it long ago—somewhere between agreeing to join an all-female acapella group when she was eighteen because of that girl with blue eyes and a killer voice and that chaotic year that followed, somehow ending with her kissing the wrong person at the end of it all. No more of that.)

“Um,” the auctioneer has apparently lost all capabilities of auctioneering. “I…guess…? Sold to—” He peers over the crowd. “You?” he asks again, still unsure. “For two thousand dollars.”

Beca quickly presses the paddle into Ben’s hands and sinks lower in her seat, distinctly avoiding all eye contact. Those closest to her finally seem to catch on and she catches the faintest hint of whispers.

“Is that…?”

“No fucking way.”

“God, I knew Beale was lying when she said they weren’t hooking up.”

Beca tries not to think about any of that, suddenly very interested in the patterns on the carpeted floor.

— — — — —

Beca i did something really stupid

Aubrey Yes, the auction was livestreamed. Chloe sent me a link.

Beca holy fuck could you see me???

Aubrey No, but thank you for confirming. Two thousand dollars, Beca Mitchell.

Beca is about to type something incredibly cheesy in response to the mild snark in Aubrey’s text, but she is distracted by Ben’s shadow appearing over her.

“Hey, so uh, you have to actually meet Chloe backstage. To set up the details and stuff. And they’re going to need a check or some other form of payment? For that two thousand dollars you just dropped?”

“Do they accept Amex,” Beca deadpans.

“Yes, I believe so. So now that that’s covered, shall we?” He holds out an arm for Beca.

Beca sighs and clicks off her phone, decidedly ignoring the very long paragraph of text Aubrey just sent to her (she caught words like “my best friend” and “hurt her” and “bear trap” so she figures that’s something she can laugh or cry over when she is inevitably sent back on a plane to Los Angeles).

“Does she know it’s me?” Beca finally asks.

“I honestly don’t know. You’re kind of short and I don’t think she could actually see you.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Beca says, feeling lightheaded.

“It’s going to be fine.”

“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t it be? We’re friends. We’ve done stupid shit before. She stayed back three years to just be part of an acapella group.” And to be with you, an annoying voice sounds in her head.

Oh, that was actually Ben. Who sounded eerily like Aubrey in that moment. Beca steps away from him.

He stares at her pointedly, pointing at the door.

Fuck, Beca thinks.

It is a simple study room and when Beca opens it, she isn’t expecting the space to be so small and so brightly lit. She winces immediately and nearly steps back out, but Chloe’s gasp is enough to keep her rooted to the spot.

“Beca,” Chloe squeaks. “What the fu—what are you doing here?”

“Hi,” Beca says, waving. Chloe continues to gape at her. “Hi?” Beca tries again.

Before she realizes what’s happening, Chloe is flying towards her and wrapping her arms so tightly around Beca that all the air rushes out of her in one fell swoop. She has enough sense to grip tightly at the back of Chloe’s coat, her fingers scrabbling on the thick, coarse fabric until they settle easily into each other like no time had passed before.

Beca sighs—literally sighs—like a disgusting teenager in love and she kind of thinks Chloe does the same before Chloe is pulling back and punching her in the arm oncee she’s at arm’s length.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“You seriously paid two thousand dollars?”

Oh right, that happened and was still happening.

“It was an accident,” Beca says instinctively and defensively.

“You raised the price by a thousand dollars accidentally,” Chloe clarifies.

“Don’t—don’t call it a price, like you’re…” Beca gestures uncomfortably. “Like you’re on sale or something. And I totally believe it’s your right to do what you want with your body and stuff because you should be allowed to have all that agency and—”

“Wow, Beca slow down.” Chloe grins affectionately. “Nobody’s doing anything with my body, not without my permission anyway. These things usually just end in a quick dinner or like. Laser tag or something. It’s never that serious.”

“I knew that,” Beca says quickly, trying to ignore her own blush at Chloe’s choice of words. “I just…I wanted to be…I wanted to,” she takes a steadying breath, “go on a date with you. And be your girlfriend. And do couple-y things. Because we’d be dating…as girlfriends.”

“You did?” Chloe asks quietly and so delicately that Beca’s breath catches. She tries to maintain eye contact as best as she can.

The air around them feels so heavy. “So much.”

“So you…” Chloe’s brow furrows. “Came to Colorado and paid two thousand dollars to go on a date with me? And I’m assuming you flew…so even more than two thousand dollars.”

“I…it sounds weird. I know. I’m weird. I just—” Beca heaves a breath. “I panicked, okay? I had this crazy vision of you ending up with somebody…with somebody else. That wasn’t me. And that sounds crazy jealous and crazy possessive and I have no right, but I’ve been thinking about you so much and I don’t know that I’ve ever really stopped thinking about you since that first day at the activities fair that entire fucking lifetime ago.” Beca feels winded suddenly and quickly looks up at Chloe with desperation. “I should have just…” she trails off, unsure.

She should have never let Chloe slip away the first time. Then the second time when she had the chance. When Chloe met her in the middle so many times before.

“Beca,” Chloe whispers, pulling her out of her swirling thoughts. “It’s…” She struggles to think of a word for a moment. “It’s okay. I’m not mad, I promise. It’s just…a lot.”

“I’m just so sorry because it seems like I’m always like…just one step off from you. And I just want to be on the same page. I want to be what you deserve.”

“Me too,” Chloe replies, reaching forward to take Beca’s hand. She doesn’t hold Beca’s hand however, opting instead to gently grip her wrist, her thumb beginning to trace soothing circles along her wristbone. “I want to be what you deserve too.”

Beca swallows the immediate protest. She lets it die in her throat because she knows Chloe is right—that they have so much to work on. But they can do it together.

“Things have been weird between us, haven’t they?” Beca asks quietly. She fixes her gaze on the “Since you came to visit me. And we…” she swallows. “We kissed.”

“We did,” Chloe murmurs.

“And have things been weird?” Beca presses.

“A little,” Chloe admits after a pause. “But things have always been a little weird between us.” A small smile slips across her lips as she uses her free hand to tilt Beca’s chin up so their gazes meet once more. “But I’ve liked that.”

“You have?”

Chloe shrugs. “Kind of.”

“We…we don’t have to go on this date, you know?” Beca clarifies, eyes flicking between Chloe’s eyes and her lips frantically. Chloe draws closer. “We…” Beca’s voice cracks. “Don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“What do you want to do?” Chloe asks, her finger still tracing the underside of Beca’s jaw and the side of her neck.

Beca’s eyes flutter shut. “I want to kiss you again. If that’s okay.”

“Do you…” Chloe’s breath is warm against Beca’s mouth as she moves closer still. “Do you…have another thousand dollars?”

Beca’s eyes would fly open if she weren’t completely lost in the sensation of both of Chloe’s hands coming up to tangle into her hair. She moans at the sensation before she can help herself and immediately closes the distance between them, their lips bumping uncomfortably for a second before they settle into a somewhat familiar rhythm. Just like that, with a hint of banter and the way their touches soothe each other, they settle back into familiarity—back into what made them work all those years ago.

Instantly, Chloe’s body seems to press into hers with ease. Chloe’s head tilts and her mouth parts and Beca just about loses her mind. She reaches up to grab Chloe’s shoulders with difficulty before she moves her hands down to hold Chloe’s waist while subtly tugging her closer. Chloe sighs a little into the kiss before she pulls back with Beca’s lower lip trapped between her teeth for a brief moment.

Beca shudders. “Unfair,” she murmurs, momentarily forgetting her own name. Chloe’s name. Amelia. Ben.

There is nothing but this moment, with Beca’s heart threatening to burst from nerves and excitement and passion and sheer joy at the feeling of having the woman she loves in her arms once more.

“Never wait that long to ask me out again,” Chloe teases, pressing her forehead against Beca’s. “This was like…weirdly romantic, but I don’t need you to drop two thousand dollars. No matter how rich you are, miss Grammy nominee.”

Beca tilts her head to steal another kiss. “Again? As in we’re going to have multiple dates.”

“If you play your cards right.” Chloe’s nose brushes against Beca’s lightly. “Not your fancy credit card though.”

“Oh,” Beca says because Chloe’s hands are tugging through her hair again and somehow her toque is on the floor and they’re kissing again.

She could get used to this.

But of course:

“Wait ‘til I tell the girls you paid two thousand dollars to go on a date with me.” She doesn't need to sound so smug, but Beca would be remiss if she didn't acknowledge how hot Chloe sounds saying that.

It isn’t an accident that Beca shuts her up with a kiss.

fin.

#bechloe #fanfiction #pitch perfect #beca mitchell #chloe beale #my fanfic #mine #text #fool's gold

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circumstellars · 3 years

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5 works tag game

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

Tagged by: @matuk-art and @kakakuroo, that’s sweet of you guys, really. Thanks! In no particular order, hm:

1. Close ups, S1 vs. S2 (Art gifs) I just did this all layer by layer and it took me ages and ages to do seven siblings, but it turned out close to what I had in mind, if a little rough. I can see a bunch of mistakes, but overall, I think they came out well enough. :>

2. Five + Axe (Fanart) I only started drawing, and on a tablet, for the first time since joining TUA fandom. This was one of my earliest attempts just a couple months ago. I still like it! But I have a lot of room for improvement. I wish I had more time to practise.

3. Harlan (Art gifs) Now that I’m a couple months into giffing again, some of my muscle memories were returning when I made this exactly one month ago today. Still has some mistakes but especially considering how PS was crashing every hour, and corrupting my layers, I’m pretty happy with how a lot of my animations came out.

4. Aphonia (One-shot) I don’t write very often, another one of those very old, ingrained fandom hobbies I’ve picked up over the years but very rarely indulge in my adulthood. I do enjoy it, when I can actually finish something, and I wrote this with my friend in mind, so I put extra love (and pain) into it. I really love Luther, I just do, and the tragedy of his story.

5. Klaus, Luther (& Ben) + Saving Eachother (Gifset) Another gifset because that’s what I do, for some reason, a lot. Like it’s my job, but I’m still very broke, definitely unpaid, and yet it makes me a lot happier than schoolwork... anyways, I enjoy how the colours turned out in this quite a bit, but moreover, Luther and Klaus give me a lot of feelings, and Ben too. They love eachother, guys, so much. I wanted to pay homage to that.

I am absolutely *blessed* to be friends/acquaintances/mutuals/friendly neighbours with a ton of amazing, incredible artists and fandom creators. I’m sure no matter who I choose you’ve probably been tagged already!

@anglophile-rin @chikinan @imrights @mokolat @taakotuesday69 @fivesmargarita @disco-tea (metas definitely count as work too!) @albaharu @vareapix @glitchinthedark @dykefive @kneworder @electric016 ... I could go on!

#tag games #stellar answers #my nonsense #myworks

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nosferatyou · 4 years

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If I Can Be So Bold: Chapter 5 (Jack White x OC)

Summary: Shes back in Nashville and Ben finally drags Lee out to a Third Man show. To Lee’s surprise, she runs into an old friend...

WC: 3k

Warnings: Cigarettes, maybe cursing (?), and death by Jack White.

Notes: Damn y’all its my best chapter to date. Honestly im pretty damn proud of this. Also why is jack white so damn hard to write. Is he a hard ass with a heart of gold, or a dad who happens to play guitar. When i figure it out ill let you know. PS. If you find my fic reference (or fic rec for anyone who hasn’t read it) shoutout to you. If youre anything like me you read the whole series in two days and couldn’t think about anything else. You probably also looked up Rosaries for sale.

This was 14 years in the making. We were bound to run into each other again. I was expecting it in a weird way. It always works out that way; you get over old turmoil, and the moment it’s gone, they show up. Your breath is sucked from your lungs, and you’re practically drowning on the spot even though you’re not even near water. Every single emotion in your being is trying to cram through your mouth, and you end up choking on it. Who knew it’d be today I die a death by Jack White. Guess I ran that risk when I entered his stomping grounds.

“Lee, I swear I didn’t know he’d be here. I wouldn’t have brought you if I’d known. I’m gonna buy you any record in the store, whatever you want. Oh god, how am I going to fix this? Guess I could do emergency distraction plan #6. Though id need a knife-” I subtly flicked the back of his arm to shut him up. His panicked ramblings were only making me more nervous. He was here, actually here. I guess I just thought I'd have a couple more years of peace.

He was staring so intensely at me, but not in anger or guilt. He was nervous. He was frozen and rigid. He was always so loose and eased into a room. Even when he was anxious, it never showed. As soon as I gained something from the absolute shock of it, all my body went against my brain. I felt my legs start to make their way over to him shakily, and there was no stopping them. Fuck I didn’t will this happen. Panic was bubbling up in my chest again. It didn’t help that he wasn’t reacting other than his eyes growing larger with each step I took. Finally, I reached him, and my arms tightly wrapped around him. This was better than the alternative that I thought would happen, which would end with a shiner and some bruised knuckles. He hadn’t grown length, but as I finally felt it all, I realized he'd grown into a man, out of his boyish figure from all those years ago. I sank into it, warm feelings bubbling up in my chest. I could finally breathe for a moment. He didn’t reciprocate my hug, but I met his eyes when I looked up at him, and all I could see was pure shock. I don’t think he would’ve moved if someone yelled fire.

He mumbled, “Why don’t we find somewhere a little more private to talk, Rosie.” I quickly nodded my head, and all that anxiety came back as soon as it was gone. I did not appreciate this little roller coaster I was on. He put his hand on my back to softly guide me to wherever we were going. It was a painfully silent walk as we weaved through Third Man. My brain kept flashing back to all the moments of our short end, mixing with all the good memories it made for a weird emotional cocktail. The more I thought about how little time we’d actually known each other, I got even more panicked. A year. That’s it, and I still acted like we were childhood friends who wronged each other. I shouldn’t be feeling all of this over a man who had such little time in my life. Still, that doesn’t change that he was at the forefront of my mind for all those years after. God, his hand was burning me where it lay.

I hadn’t realized we’d made it to the spot until his words broke my thoughts. “Welcome to the Third Man roof, my secret spot, if you will.” I looked up to see a couple of lawn chairs and a crate between them, acting as a makeshift table. Cigarette butts strewed around the chair farthest from the edge. Jack was already walking towards what I assumed to be his chair. In tow, I followed, pulling my pack out of my pocket and lighting a cig. If this was going to happen, I was going to need a goddamn cigarette. He grimaced at the sight of Marlboros, pulling out his pack. Red Camels, still the same all these years later. Somethings just don’t change. Guess that’s comforting.

“I thought you were a camels girl. What happened there?” He was already reaching for another to hand to me.

“Oh, just had to settle when on tour for whatever others had. It just stuck, I guess…” A lie. I put mine out on the ground when I sat down and grabbed the nostalgic camel out of his hand, our fingers barely touching.

We sat in silence, smoking a piece of our past. I sure as hell didn’t know where to start, and I don’t think he did either. My body took over just as it had before and did what I couldn’t manage. I was blurting out words before I knew what was happening.

I stumbled out, “I bought all your records over the years.” Smooth.

A small smile fell onto his face, and he took another drag. “I did the same thing.” He looked over at me, quickly looked me over, then took a quick drag and put it on on the ground. “Have a favorite?”

I pretended to think like I hadn’t thought of having a favorite. “I guess I’d have to say Consolers of the Lonely, but if we’re talking The Stripes, I’d have to say De Stijl. Though I always feel like I should say your first, since you know, I’m on it.” I sent a small smile his way and started to ease into my seat more. Not sitting up so straight, ready to bolt at any moment. “What about you, Jack? Hm? Have a Rosalie Wright favorite?”

He answered without hesitation, “Surrender. I really liked that sound you had in 2004, where you got dirty and loud. It was a big change from your old blues tone. Someone told me it was because you moved to New Jersey, which honestly makes sense.” He stopped for a second and looked off. “That band, Leathermouth. When that album dropped, I played it when I was working in the upholstery shop, and Karen walked in. She turned right around after hearing, I think... My love has gone flat? I don’t know, but she asked me if I was doing okay at dinner that night.” He quietly laughed to himself, thinking over the memory.

“Anyone who wasn’t in the band asks me the same thing! They all said, “Hey, your new albums great! How are you doing? You need someone to talk to?” My smile fell. “Too bad all the guys found god. Nothing against that, of course! Just sucks they had to quit the band. Not Frankie, though. He wouldn’t find god even if he came to him on a piece of toast. I’d probably take some freak case of Stigmata for him even to consider it… Why am I still talking?” I blushed, realizing I'd been rambling too long about nothing that probably interested him

Jack waved his hand in the air to dismiss my worries. “We’ve got years to catch up on, Rosie. Besides, I’ve missed your ramblings.” He lit two more cigs, handing one over to me. His stare lingered on me, and his eyes softened from his stoic face. “I really have missed you, Rosie… All these years and I’m still not quite sure what you’ve been up to. I’ve only heard things here and there from Ben.” He took a long drag. “Where have you been all this time?”

I took a deep breath in, knowing the answer wouldn’t be the best. I spent a fair amount of drinking myself into oblivion over something he caused, so I kept my answer brief, “Oh, you know, toured, drank, slept in fans and friends basements. You know, a typical musician’s life. Oh! Got put on the FBI watchlist over a Leathermouth song. That was a fun night for Frankie and me.”

He chuckled, put out his cig, and turned his body towards me. The same warm smile was adorning him. As I said, some things just don’t change. “I mean, I don’t know what you expected when you play a song with that title. It’s one of the only things you legally can’t say.”

“Punk is punk, Jack. Too bad I was only playing guitar. I would’ve loved to scream that.” I put my cig out and put all my attention towards him. I hadn’t thoroughly looked at him the whole time we were up there. “It was hard not to stay caught up with you, Jack. You were everywhere. I tried not to pry, though. I never trusted the press. Though I heard about the divorce last year… I’m sorry you had to go through that again.”

His smile faltered, and he stared down at his hands for a second. “It was inevitable. We were too different for it to last. I guess this shit always happens for a reason, huh? We just fell out of love, and that was that. I had a party to commemorate new friendships and everything. At least she can’t hide my Billie Holiday records now…” He trailed off on that last sentence. I could barely hear it, but I caught the small comment. He still thought about me. I didn’t mention it though. I could barely think back to the old memories. Me making him dance with me to Billie Holiday's self titled album. I guess I just wanted to feel like we were really together back then, creating that fantasy. I felt like I had to wave my imaginary hands around in my head to clear out the memories that had risen to the surface. He was making it so hard to have a clear head.

We stayed quiet for a moment. He seemed lost in his thoughts. We were always good at comfortable silences. I think we just liked being in each other’s presence, having that person next to you. It was weird to think that I only had these old images of him to think back to. He looked so different. He was built, his face filled out, his height would make him look skinnier than he was back then. He’s muscular, probably from years of touring with heavy equipment. He looked his age. His eyes hadn’t changed though. His face was almost menacing for how serious it naturally rested. His eyes stayed bright, excited for everything ahead of him. He always hid that, and he probably still does.

“I’m sorry, Rosie. For everything that happened. It was selfish of me to -” I cut him off. This was for another day. I don’t think I could handle drudging up the past tonight.

“Make it up to me some other time. I just want to enjoy you tonight.” I sent a smile his way and went to stand up. “Better make it good though.” I went to lean against the wall to take in the Nashville skyline I missed so much.

I heard the gravel crunch underneath his shoes as he made his way next to me. His lighter clicked, and the sweet smell of tobacco filled the air. Moments later, he appeared next to me, cigarette in hand, ready for me to take. He clicked his lighter on and offered it out for me to light. I leaned in close and took a heavy drag. My eyes caught his left hand, cupping around the flame. No ring. It really was done, no lingering feelings. I moved back to lean against the small wall, leaning my head against my hand. I tried not to focus on the emotions that stirred in me when I noticed the absent metal on his finger.

“I really did miss this. Detroit was beautiful, but it never could beat the Nashville skyline. Maybe I was just missing home.” I finally got to take in the scenery around us. September in Nashville has never really been cold. I feel like I should be worried about that, but if I can avoid a sweater, I will. It was a comfortable kind of warm. You could sit out on your porch and not think about a thing. The small breeze was nice, taking away from the constant humidity. Then there was that constant. It never felt like Nashville’s downtown ever changed from far away. It was just stuck in time. The deeper you go, the more you realize the magic of music city is being taken over by honky tonks and drunk bachelorettes. Though the farther you drift away, the more you can feel like you're in the good ole days of classic Nashville. Back when the Ernest Tubb Record Shop didn't have a constant flow of Lynyrd Skynyrd cover bands but had undiscovereds like Loretta. Now you just have to settle for the sights and the small music scene curated by The End.

“Is it bad I feel the same way? Even if it’s not home home, it still feels like it. I think the skyline reminded me of coming home after long tours. It’s always the first thing you see. It’s a comfort.”

We weren’t touching technically, but our shoulders were so close I could feel it. I think he was deliberately keeping his space. I should be mad or angry. Something. But the feeling of him next to me was just as calming as the views. That same feeling of home lulling you in. He always felt like that to me. That dumb warm feeling in your chest that makes heavier days just a little lighter. It’s a bit shameful that I feel it all now, just as strong as back then.

“You know the only reason I came tonight is because Ben told me you wouldn’t be here. Something about your kids,” I took a drag. “Not that I regret coming! I just- Kids. How fucking weird is that? Never pictured you with kids. I always saw you as the same lanky kid from before.”

He snorted and bumped my shoulder with his own. “You know I found it odd you never had any. I mean, you were always weirdly maternal with Ben back when he was a teenager. You about took my head off when I told you I gave him a couple of beers. Oh, and those times I practically had to rip Jasper out of your arms after we got home from one of our first tours.”

“He was 16! His brain wasn’t fully formed yet, plus your mom would’ve murdered you.” I gave his arm a small playful hit and took another drag. “And I just haven’t had the time. Or the means to. I mean, I dated like two guys? Both were shit bag roadies who lasted all of two weeks. I kissed Frankie once, but the moment it ended, we about threw up. He’s a different kind of family. His kids call me Auntie Lee if that says anything.”

The conversation ended at that, and we fell back into our silence. I looked over and saw a small, content smile on his face that I was so used to seeing. Some things just don’t change.

It feels weird sitting here with him. We both were so happy to see each other. We just wanted to enjoy this time. At least, I think he’s the same way. He seems guarded, it’s subtle, but that wall is there. He used to be like this, but for different reasons. Secret wife reasons. I can only assume that now it’s the fame he’s been showered with. You can't show all your feelings with recognition like that. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him checking his watch. He muttered out shit when seeing the time.

Exasperatingly he said, “Speaking of kids, I’ve got to get home. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten. I promised Scarlett I'd be home to say goodnight.”

My smile faltered a little, but my heart grew at the comment about scarlet. He’s always loved so hard. It was only natural that he would be a good father.

We both put out our cigs and silently made our way out to where his car parked. I just mindlessly followed along, definitely not thinking about him and how wonderful he probably was with his kids.

When we got there, we just kind of stood there. Neither of us knew how to say goodbye. It was never something we did.

“I’m really glad I got to see you tonight, Rosie. Seriously.”

My body betrayed me, just like it had in the recording room. I quickly moved forward and hugged him tightly, except this time, I could enjoy it a little more. His frame was so warm compared to the chilly September night. He finally wrapped his arms around me and practically threw himself into the embrace. He had no hesitation whatsoever. I nuzzled my face into his chest, a bit too shamelessly, but this was 14 years in the making.

When we finally (and hesitantly) pulled away, he asked, “ Listen, I don’t think I can just walk around town knowing you’re here and not see you. Can we get coffee or something? I don’t care what we do as long as it’s with you.”

I felt a giant smile fall onto my face. I was afraid this whole time we would just kind of say goodbye and not talk again. It was dumb to feel so happy over a small gesture, but it was just what I was looking for. He was infectious back then, and he is. Once you fall back into his circle, you never wanted to leave. “I’ll agree to coffee only if,” I gave him a playful poke in the side, “you help me fix my amp. I can usually do it, but I really did a number on her this time.” I held out my hand for him to shake. It’s not a deal if you don’t shake on it.

“It’s a date then.” A small smile appeared on his face, and he grabbed my hand to shake it.

“It’s a date.” We stood their just shaking hands and smiling at each other. We probably looked insane from far away, but who cares. Me and Jack were on the road to reasonable terms.

Tag list: @shamoane @elinyaes

#jack white #the white stripes #nosferatyou writes #if i can be so bold fic #if i can be so bold #the raconteurs #leathermouth #frank iero #UHV reference #can you tell that ive hyper fixated on frank as well #its obvious i know #gotta slide him into my works somehow #also they really got to cut down on the cigs #the bastards #also ben whats the distraction plan number 6 #im curious #and as i always say #bet Jack is a bottom #bet you like 5 bucks and the little clay mushroom house i made

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bisluthq · 3 years

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Jake gylenhall is closeted. That's why he is "private" and still dating 20 year old beards.

Ehhhh I mean I’ve heard that rumor but every actor has rumors and this isn’t actually a super persistent or believable one IMO. Like every actor has rumors. Idris Elba - a man who has UNQUANTIFIABLE fuckboy dzaddy energy - has been extensively speculated over on gossip sites/forums.

Now for example I believe Leo is in the closet because he shoves his carousel of “girlfriends” down our throats and they’re constantly changing and they’re NOISY af and like essentially interchangeable.

But Jake has been with Jeanne for a few years now and I think aside from whatever people actively follow him or people who actively follow fashion - tho even then not really because she is so arb - nobody knows they exist as an entity. Or me because I looked it up. That’s a... truly bad beard. Like if nobody knows you have a beard what is the point of having one? That’s the thing some self-appointed PR experts in this fandom lie about. PR relationships attract publicity. If it doesn’t attract publicity it’s a VERY BAD PR relationship.

An age gap could be a sign of a beard, sure, or it could be a sign the older person - so in this case Jake - is a bit of a prick. Which seems more believable to me in this case, given the other relationships he has had publicly (eg his long tumultuous thing with Kristen Dunst who we know is also ~troubled). I did a bit of a deep dive on Jeanne’s Insta so you don’t have to and aside from the fact that she’s much younger she has that whole intellectual vibe and aesthetic he seems to relish and she’s French to boot, which seems like something he’d like.

I’m sorry but I’m not convinced you’re right and that he’s a closet case.

PS agents are very reluctant to let closet cases play gay btw. That’s why Ben Whishaw only really started taking gay roles after he came out. He’s a great example of someone who pinged but played tortured straightz until he snapped and admitted it.

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thomas-mvller · 4 years

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Tag games x 283129

Hello everyone so uh lately i've started to be more active on my music sideblog which means i've been hearting stuff like crazy for the past couple of months aka all the things i've been tagged in has been buried under all that nonsense SO because i hate leaving things undone i thought on doing them all at once and tagging a bunch of people so they can get a little distraction by doing them (as in, not all of them but whichever they might want to do)

Again: you do not have to do all of them, not even one if you don't feel like doing so! there's a game for everyone so hey!

Tagging: @havertsz @foreverbayern @germanynts @sherlockisonfire @debushit @sadiiomane10 @miasanmuller @elishamanning @abcde-fc @bbjim @littletentaclemonster @tamtam-elizabeth @minimalloss @pearfight and whoever wants to do this! if you see it, consider yourself tagged >:))

Alright, here we go:

1) I was tagged by @/tamtam-elizabeth and @/sadiiomane10 to post a capture of my lockscreen, homescreen and last song i listened to. Thank you both <3

I used to be very annoying when it came to changing my lock/homescreen so now i just don’t do that often anymore (previous to that my homescreen was a pic of lfc winning ucl OBVIOUSLY) also i haven’t really been listening to music lately but i did have a depeche mode phase like two weeks ago and this was the song i replayed the most so hey!

///

2) “Get to know me” tag

Tagged by the always thoughtful @/tamtam-elizabeth , thank you and i’m sorry for taking so long ;-; <3

Name: Cloud

Birthday: sometime in november

Zodiac Sign: scorpio

Height: 5′4′’ or 1.65 (last time i checked..... which was like seven years ago)

Hobbies: lately it has been sewing facemasks 😂 that aside i like watching movies, random videos on yt, baking and crafting sometimes

Favorite colors: black, red and teal

Favorite Book: don’t think i have one :o

Last Song Listened to: barrel of a gun by depeche mode

Last Movie Watched: currently watching prince of egypt. if that doesn’t count then ben hur 😂

Inspiration or Muse: i really don’t know what to say here 😂

Dream Job: i still haven’t given up to my goal but at this point i just want a job that gives me stability and zero worries

Reason Behind my URL: Thomas Müller (German pronunciation: [ˈtoːmas ˈmʏlɐ]; born 13 September 1989) is a German professional footballer who plays for Bundesliga club Bayern Munich. A versatile player, Müller plays as a midfielde- okay no in all seriousness yess this url is bc of a football player 😂

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3) Ten songs playlist tag

Tagged by the joy that is @/foreverbayern and the always sweetest @/havertsz . thank youuuuu <3

Rules: We’re snooping through your playlist. Put your entire music library on shuffle and list the first 10 songs and then choose 10 victims.

Some months ago I made the mistake of transfering the songs i had in my old computer to my current laptop and there are some stuff that just........ should not be acknowledged so i can’t do shuffle HOWEVER i will choose ten random songs i’ve listened to/discovered this year (technically speaking is the same) so here it is:

art-i-ficial by x-ray spex

sunny afternoon by the kinks

desire lines by lush

paper cuts by incubus

pure love by hayley williams

spirit by bauhaus

no one knows by screaming trees

let’s love by suho

all we need is a dream by cheap trick

cosmonauts by fiona apple

bonus: you’re so close by peter murphy (god i adore this song)

I wouldn’t be surprised if these aren’t your cup of tea tbh 😂

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4) “Core aesthetic” tag

Tagged by @/havertsz - i’m sorry for the delay ;-; and thank you <3

rules: search your name + "core aesthetic" on pinterest, get a moodboard & select a few photos that come up

i can’t really use pinterest so i googled it instead, as you might’ve guessed this is what i got 😂

ps: i’ve been informed not to use pinterest so if you wish follow this post’s indications

ah this is so pretty, i loved doing this!

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Tagged by @/germanynts @/havertsz and @/elishamanning to do this tag, thank you all <3

rules: describe yourself with pictures you already have saved. no downloading or searching for new ones. then tag 10 people.

if you want further explanations for each pic... ask ahead 😂

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6) “bold what applies” tag

Tagged by the always enJoyable @/foreverbayern, thank yoooou <3

rules: bold what applies to you and tag a bunch of people

- Appearance

I am over 5’5 // I wear glasses/contacts // I have blonde hair // I prefer loose clothing over tight clothing // I have one or more piercings (had three...) // I have at least one tattoo // I have blue eyes // I have dyed or highlighted my hair // I have gotten plastic surgery // I have or had braces // I sunburn easily // I have freckles // I paint my nails // I typically wear makeup // I don’t often smile // I am pleased with how I look // I prefer Nike to Adidas // I wear baseball caps backwards

- Hobbies and interests

I play a sport // I can play an instrument // I am artistic // I know more than one language // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition // I can cook or bake without a recipe // I know how to swim // I enjoy writing // I can do origami // I prefer movies to tv shows // I can execute a perfect somersault // I enjoy singing // I could survive in the wild on my own // I have read a new book series this year // I enjoy spending time with my friends // I travel during school or work breaks // I can do a handstand

Relationships

I am in a relationship // I have been single for over a year // I have a crush // I have a best friend I have known for ten years // my parents are together // I have hooked up with my best friend // I am adopted // My crush has confessed to me // I have a long-distance relationship // I am an only child // I give advice to my friends // I have made an online friend // I met up with someone I have met online

- Aesthetic

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell // I have watched the sunrise // I enjoy rainy days // I have slept under the stars // I meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // I enjoy the smell of the beach // I know what snow tastes like // I listen to music to fall asleep (i did that for a long time and i sicnerely don’t recommend it) // I enjoy thunderstorms // I enjoy cloud watching // I have attended a bonfire (quick story time: one time when i was 12 my friends and i sneaked into our seniors’ school anniversary activities and they lit this huge bonfire near the football field, it was nuts) // I pay close attention to colours // I find mystery in the ocean (spoopy shit) // I enjoy hiking on nature paths // Autumn is my favourite season

- Miscellaneous

I can fall asleep in moving vehicles // I am the mom friend // I live by a certain quote(s) // I like the smell of sharpies // I am involved in extracurricular activities // I enjoy Mexican food // I can drive a stick-shift // I believe in true love // I make up scenarios to fall asleep // I sing in the shower // I wish I lived in a video game // I have a canopy above my bed // I am multiracial // I am a redhead // I own at least 3 dogs

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my god this is getting embarassing i had stuff long due ;-;

Tagged by @/tamtam-elizabeth. think you for thanking on me when doing tag games, i mean it :-: <3

How old are you?: 24

Surgeries?: one

Tattoos?: none yet ://

Ever hit a deer?: i have never seen one so... no 😂

Sang karaoke?: yeah... years ago 😂

Ice skated?: nope

Ridden a motorcycle?: had the chance but nope

Ridden in an ambulance?: nope

Skipped school?: a handful of times

Stayed in a hospital?: for a few hours

Broken bones?: nope

Last phone call?: i haven’t called anyone in ages 😂

Last text from?: my mom

Pepsi or coke?: coke but i don’t mind having pepsi

Favorite pie?: haven’t had one

Favorite pizza?: chorizo + corn + red pepper

Favorite season?: autumn

Received a ticket?: don’t even know how to drive

Favorite color?: black, red and teal

Sunset or sunrise?: both!

Favorite Christmas song?: don’t think i have one, maybe universe by exo?

Cupcakes or cookies?: uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh good q, cookies?

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8) “find your match” tag game

Tagged by @/tamtam-elizabeth, you’re allowed to punch me in the face at this point

Rules:

Take the test

Reblog this post with what type you got

Tag 7 mutuals to do the same!

I got the Dreamer and my ideal partner would be The Innovator ?)

Seek out opportunities to collaborate with INNOVATOR types, who combine your lofty idealism with a focus on pragmatic solutions. The grounding energy of the INNOVATOR can inspire you to apply your imagination to real-world change.

that’s deep fam 😂 but okay!

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9) “get to know me tag”

Tagged by: @/littletentaclemonster . thank you and sorry for the delay ;-; <3

nickname: cloud zodiac: scorpio height: 5′4″ / 1.65 last movie I saw: can you believe i managed to watch another thing while making this? anyway it was The celluloid closet last thing I googled: block site extension favorite musician: as of right now? depeche mode song stuck in my head: you’re so close by peter murphy other blogs: @/brltpop and @/s-lay-ing amount of sleep: as long as i can get (usually 7 or 8) lucky numbers: don’t think i have one dream job: whatever gives me stability what am I wearing: pajamas favorite food: chinese, mexican and italian language: which ones do i know? spanish and english somewhat. i want to learn japanese and german :c can I play an instrument: nope favorite song: atm is YOU’RE SO CLOSE (8) random fact: my nails usually grow sort of square except for my thumb and index fingers, they grow round for whatever reason describe yourself in aesthetic things: ?????????? idk man, messy room? loose clothes? football? cd’s on a shelf, posters on the walls ?????

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MY GOD WHY AM I LIKE THIS?????????

10)

Tagged by @/littletentaclemonster you too can punch me in the face

Rules: Bold the statements that apply to you, italicize your aspirations, then tag nine people.

AIR: I have small hands • I love the night sky • I watch small animals and birds when I pass them by • I drink herbal tea • I wake to see dawn • The smell of dust is comforting • I’m valued for being wise • I prefer books to music • I meditate • I find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

FIRE: I don’t have straight hair • I like to wear ripped jeans • I play an organized sport • I love dogs • I am not afraid of adventure • I love to talk to strangers • I always try new foods • I enjoy road trips • Summer is my favorite season • My radio is always playing

WATER: I wear bracelets on my wrists • I love the bustle of the city • I have more than one set of piercings • I read poetry • I love the sound of a thunderstorm • I want to travel the world • I sleep past midday most days • I love dimly lit diners and fluorescent signs • I rewatch kids’ shows out of nostalgia • I see emotions in colors not words

EARTH: I wear glasses/contacts • I enjoy doing the laundry • I am a vegetarian • I have an excellent sense of time • My humor is very cheerful • I am a valued advisor to my friends • I believe in true love • I love the chill of mountain air • I’m always listening to music • I am highly trusted by the people in my life

AETHER: I go without makeup in my daily life • I make my own artwork • I keep on track of my tasks and time • I always know true north • I see beauty in everything (sort of) • I can always smell flowers • I smile at everyone I pass by • I always fear history repeating itself • I have recovered from a mental disorder • I can love unconditionally

Water an aether huh, i don’t know what to do with this information 😂

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if you ask me i would very much appreciate it if you do the songs playlist tag bc i need recommendations thanks. Also massive apologies to the ones that were due since last year I had them in my drafts i swear!

Stay safe everyone :D

#ask games #yaay!#FINALLY #THE GUILT........ GONE #well this was fun

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seven-oomen · 4 years

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Okay, so first off, you are amazing, that headcanon response was so much more than I could ever have hoped for, and I loved every bit of it (And that’s whether you do the other two pairings or not.) And yes, I can very much imagine scruffy, stable dad Peter with a lapful of pretty omega (I feel they’re a little too tall to try for both at once, though, amusing though the attempt might be. XD ) In fact that sounds like an excellent way to pass the time at work as a distraction from customer stupidity.

Secondly, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! I hope your day is as wonderful as possible, and your cake is plentiful and delicious. I am so, so proud of you for making it this far despite everything, and for working hard to heal and move forward. You deserve all the awesome things. This is not a particularly awesome thing (Google was being deeply frustrating about my searches), but I think I did manage to at least finish it in time for your birthday(maybe? Time zones tend to confuse me despite my best efforts.) I mainly just wanted to do something with all the Fluffy Family Feels I had going on that I hadn’t managed to work into the previous moodboards, and tried to cram everbody in somewhere (including Ben, Rabbit, and some bonus wolf!Peter with his pups.) I also have Feelings about the boys (I know they’re all technically about my age in the story, but they are still my precious boys) and their (almost) matching shirts, so I couldn’t resist throwing that in there, too. I hope you like it!

Well, I don’t know about amazing but I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying all my little headcanons. And I’ll see if I can make up some more for Chris/Noah and Chris/Peter, I might do that later today since right now I’m focusing on responding to comments and interactions. But yeah, def gonna post more if people want to hear them!

(Omg do not get me started on customer stupidity, I thankfully don’t work retail or food service anymore. But have done both in the past. I work Tech Support now, which, is painful too but at least I only speak to people over the phones. but I feel ya, you need distractions!)

How about this image of Peter trying to fit both Noah and Chris in his lap, their legs are completely tangled and Peter’s legs went numb about half an hour ago. But they don’t care, they cuddling. (after a lot of fitting and playing Tetris on how do we both fit into Peter’s lap.)

The answer is both on one leg with their legs all facing one way and with their backs to Peter’s chest and Chris and Noah both have to wrap an arm around Peter’s shoulders. It’s very difficult to do and not very comfortable, but they manage.

And thank you so much! It is still my birthday, (May 30) and I did get a cake, or well, a vlaai (pie) technically? Dutch cakes are a bit different, mine looks like this:

And you are far too kind my friend, far too kind. But your words are very appreciated and I adore you for it. I hope you too, have a fantastic day and that you’re staying safe in this madness. <3

And shhhhhhh, this is awesome and I love it. I’m not sure what my favorite part is, everything actually.

I love the top four where it’s Noah, Peter, Chris, and Rabbit. Noah’s just looking like; I’m gonna be pretending to work and look busy because I don’t want to deal with this. Chris just looks tired like he’s thinking; dear god, why did I have kids? And Peter is looking like he’s either going to burst out laughing, or there’s an epic bitching or scolding coming.

And then you have Ben both in wolf form and human form and his wolf form is either playing with Cousin Derek or dad. I’m not sure which of those I love more.

The other wolf picture kinda strikes me as either Malia and Derek or maybe even Jackson and Scott? I kinda like that idea too.

And then there’s all these family feels and omg I’m dying XD

It’s just so good! <3 Thank you so much I love this.

Ps. these gifs sum up my feelings surrounding this fictional family.

(That’s either Chris or Noah saying that. Or maybe even Jackson, Ben, or Stiles. Not sure what works better.)

#ben says stuff #once upon a time comments #petopher #chris/peter/noah #submission

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jojoreadwhat · 5 years

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what would it take to think about me any other way? | j.m. x fem!reader

a/n; Hi everyone! Before I get into anything else THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH FOR THE FEEDBACK ON MY LAST IMAGINE!! Like I’m over the moon, I’m feeling so humbled and welcomed by all of you! I can’t wait to give you guys more material! So I thought to show my appreciation, I’d give you some smuuut. Hehehehe, I hope you guys enjoy it! 😉🥰

Ps. I’m sorry for errors and this bad boy is longggg. I will edit it this after seeing Grouplove tonight. See ya babes ❤️

prompt; Fem!Reader and Joe have been best friends since as long as they can remember. Joe also sees you more than just his best friend. He’d love to confess his feelings but there’s just a liiiittle problem... you’re getting married.

words; 3.1k

mentions; Ben Hardy, Rami Malek & Gwilym Lee.

Warnings: feels, strong language, sexual content.

Title inspiration:

After a long rehearsal dinner and a invitation to a bachelor party that they passed on. Ben, Rami, Gwilym and Joe had a brilliant idea to create a party of their own at their favorite, Rocco’s. To celebrate being in the same place again and finally catch up on missed time.

Rocco’s was your average dive bar and club on the outskirts of LA. Smelling like organic menthols and expensive trendy boozes. Dimly lit with neon lights guiding against exposed bricks and abstracts hanging along side them. Scattered tables, with more space for the people to dance. Ugly stools lining the bar with the traditional mixtures siding new age concoctions on the shelf behind. Fit for the yuppies and balancing out for the ones not so keen on the "hip" crowd tonight.

All the guys held up the bar, each taking turns on buying the next round of drinks. Laughing and carrying on, enjoying the atmosphere. Joe on the other hand, wasn’t paying so much attention to the conversation amongst the guys. Mindlessly turned against the bar, looking out to the crowd. He watched the people living their best lives tonight. All dancing and enjoying themselves. Downing the last sips of his beer. Eyeing some pretty women that had him thinking outrageously of taking one home. But only if they could replace the person running through his thoughts right now.

You.

You’re Joe’s best friend. You guys have been best friends since he had moved from New York to LA for college a few years back. You both attended and crossed paths at USC even with two different majors. Just one conversation about movies at a mutual friends party left you two inseparable since then. You guys practically did everything together. Ate lunch, studied, partied and so on. You two even lived together for a short while before Joe had to move for a film. Even then, you guys stayed in constant contact with each other. The miles didn’t exist in your friendship.

It wasn’t until the films started becoming more frequent for Joe and the extended time away that he realized that he not only missed you. But he was noticing that you were on his mind more ways than being just his friend.

He wanted to tell you so badly. It was always number one on his mind whenever you guys were around each other. To tell you everything he was feeling. He even planned it out to your favorite movie, because you always loved the sweet endings of rom coms.

But his plan was delayed when you invited him to dinner to meet Chris. You looked for approval from Joe before bringing a new person around others. It was important to you to hear him first. Chris was an overall nice, genuine guy Joe thought when he first met him. Attractive, sweet, funny... everything that kept a smile on your face the whole night. A smile Joe wished was for him again, but loved unconditionally. So to continue seeing it, he approved of Chris. With the little selfish thought that it wouldn’t last long. Joe hated himself for that.

Karma reminded him of that months ago over a FaceTime call with you, gushing over your engagement ring to Chris. He felt like his heart was ripped slowly from his chest that whole hour and half. But again, that smile and your happiness kept him quiet.

So now here was Joe. Leaning against a bar, with an empty bottle, checking out women that could never compare to you. On the night before your wedding.

Joe was starring at the floor when Ben snapped him out of it. “Mate, it’s your turn.” He nudged, Joe took a second before registering what was being asked of him. Turning to the bar now and placing his card down. Ben kept staring at him, knowing exactly what was going through Joe’s head.

“You have a few hours left.” Ben spoke quietly. Joe looked at Ben with a dumbfounded look. “I’m not going to do that to Y/N.” He said,

“She’s happy with Chris.” Taking a sip of his fresh bottle. “She doesn’t want me.” Ben knew Joe and knew he was sticking to his words. But he also believe in the possibilities.

“She could be happier too.” Ben said again and Joe knew that was his que to call it a night. Downing his beer faster than his mind could lose all thoughts. Gwil and Rami noticed the sudden change, but Joe didn’t get into it as he excused himself to get a head start on some sleep for tomorrow. Saying goodbye to them all.

Joe drove home with the windows down. Letting the warm, crisp of the LA night hit his exposed skin and rearrange his dark red locks. He passed your apartment as it was on the way to his house. Your lights were out and you were probably out celebrating your last night with your maiden name. He knew Ben was right, he had a few hours left. That there was a possibility that he could make you happier. But he also believed in reasoning and there was a reason why you were home for him to fuck up everything.

He was arriving home as he crept closer to his driveway. Noticing a figure sitting on his step, trying to make of it but finding no use until he pulled in all the way in. Almost leaving him breathless as he became aware of who it was.

It was you. Standing up slowly as he put his car in park and stepped out. You were dressed differently now from the last time he seen you hours ago at your rehearsal dinner. You were in your jogging attire, which you did before you’d go to sleep. Your Y/H/C hair falling everywhere from the ponytail it was in. And when he got closer to you, he noticed you had been crying from how swollen your eyes were.

“Are you alright?” He asked, silently kicking himself for choosing such a dumb question to start with. He watched as you wiped your cheek with your fingers. Nodding, “Can we talk?” You replied in question, before Joe gestured you to follow him up to the door.

He stayed calm even with feeling like a raging bull to find out what Chris did. But Joe didn’t say a thing. He knew things were not right for you right now. As you followed close behind while he unlocked the door.

Joe apologized for the mess as you both walked in. Looking as Joe turned on the lights leading to the living room.

“Want something to drink?” He asked as you entered the living room, standing in the middle of it as you far from wanting to sit and get comfortable. You shook your head and he obliged, taking a seat on his sofa, “what’s up?” Next he asked, casually.

You placed your hands over your face groaning into them. Feeling all sorts of ways for all the things that you were about to say. Mentally preparing how they would sound in the first place,

“The wedding is off.” You bluntly announced, Joe, who was lounging back on his sofa. Straightened his posture, his brown eyes made daggers as they grew wide. “What happened?” He asked again, “Where’s Chris?” He went on, vamped like he was going to kill him. I shook my head, reassuring that this wasn’t Chris’ fault.

Joe raised his brow, “Then what’s going on?” He spoke, “Is it cold feet?” Which made you chuckle, wiping your face from an escaping tear. “Something like that, I guess.” You exclaimed. Beginning to look at the floor.

You ended things because denying your feelings for Joe had become unbearable. You felt so stupid letting it go for so long, but the rehearsal dinner and him leaving early just pulled a string. You were pretty sure you were going to lose your best friend and possibly the love of your life if you walked the aisle in the morning. That scared you more than anything.

You decided to take a seat next to Joe on the sofa. Feeling his chestnut eyes cutting you like daggers as he waited for you. For the first time feeling nervous to speak to him.

So you sighed, blinking your eyes before moving them up to Joe’s. “I had ideas on what I was going to say to you on my run here.” You began, “but I don’t think none of its going to come out like I want it to.” you added, biting your lip.

“It’s been a scary few months since this has been weighing and the days have been passing and how much of an asshole I’ve been just wasting time.” You started, taking a breath, “At first I just thought it was normal. That it wasn’t anything. That they would pass.” Shaking you head at your concealing. “But it never passed and I was only realizing that I was about to lose what I need.”

Joe just continued to stare, listening to you with his heartbeat going a mile per second. Hoping to fucking god you couldn’t hear it like he did. You looked at him again before meeting the floor, clearing your throat and preparing for what you’ve been wanting to say this whole time.

“So here it goes,” you continued. Closing your eyes, “I have feelings for you, Joe.” You confessed, then. Placing your hands on your knees as you felt yourself start to shake. Feeling relieved but terrified all in one. More horrid when Joe didn’t move, or say anything and you seen everything you’ve been through with him flash like life would.

It made you panic, the silence as it grew longer. You stood up fast, shaking your head to yourself. “This night is turning into a disaster. I-I’m so sorry.” You stuttered, about to make a getaway to Joe’s door. But you were so caught up in your rambling thoughts, you didn’t notice Joe’s immediate action when he grabbed your arm. Spinning you and crashing his lips upon yours.

You didn’t move for a moment, stuck in your mind until you realized what was happening. Joe’s wrapping around you, deepening the kiss. Yours moving swiftly in time around his neck and your lips beginning to move against his. Your fingers lost in dark auburn hair. You felt like you were dreaming.

Joe pulled away gently, coming up for air. Snapping you back into reality as you opened your eyes slow. You met his sweet smile, feeling his hand caress your cheek as he leaned down to pepper more kisses to your lips and face. Causing your heart to beat astronomically, leaving you smiling.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” Joe spoke, moving the hair from your face. “What’s been going through my mind for the last 24 hours.” Adding, “I was set to lose you, Y/N.” He confessed, noticing the tears about to fall over the brim of his eyes. You shook your head, bringing him into a embrace.

“You have me. All of me.” You said, softly. “Always.” Kissing the skin between his neck and shoulder. You both stood like that for minute before he pulled away, leaning down to kiss you again. This one feeling different than the last, needy, eager and intense all wrapped in one. As he grazed his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for entry.

It picked up from there and so were you. Joe wrapped you around his waist, holding you as he took you through the hall and to his bedroom. Laying you down carefully, like you were porcelain, onto his bed. Spreading your legs as he made room for himself to hover over you. Prolonging the kisses and letting them discover you. From your lips to your jaw and down your neck, like he already knew what made you tick as you hummed into them.

Your hands resting on his neck and then on his back. Moving the fabric up to discard him of his shirt. You had thoughts like this about Joe often, feeling bashful about them before this. It was like you two had done this together before. How relaxed and comfortable you were.

Joe paused, letting you help him out of his shirt and throw it behind. His hands meeting the exposed skin of your stomach, letting him move your shirt up and over his body. Leading to him leeching onto the new areas of skin. Kissing trails over your collarbones, your lightly exposed breasts and feathering kisses under the band of your bra. Giggling as it tickled a bit. Joe then reached behind you, unclasping your lilac colored bra. You hissed, delightfully as the cold sharply met your tender breasts. Turning into a moan immediately when Joe mouth took them upon themselves. Kissing, sucking, x’s and o’s over all the sensitivity. Your hands tangled into Joe’s locks as he kept looking up at you. Smiling, embedding this picture of you in brain as you looked beautiful as ever.

He then trailed his lips down again towards the waistband of your leggings, lapping his fingers until it as he began to discard them off you. Leaving you in your panties before him and he could see how wet you were through them. Over the moon that this was happening, that he caused this of you as thought about it for ages.

“Please, Joe.” You pleaded. As he was inches away from your heat. He wanted to toy but the way that his name sounded falling off your lips. He wanted to hear it again. Joe trailed his lips on insides of your thighs, coming close to damp fabric over your heat. You gasped when his thumb found the middle, swiping down slowly through your folds. Feeling how wet you were now.

He then took a hold of the band of your panties, slipping them off and leaving you meet the cool air. You moaned, lightly. Feeling completely exposed and so ready for what Joe was going to do.

Joe began shortly after, kissing your mound lightly before his tongue moved through your folds. Finding your clit and making you a moaning mess. Your hips bucked eagerly as he worked you, wrapping his arms around your bottom half to keep you in place. Your fingers lost in his hair. Pleading for Joe not to stop echoed throughout his room.

You were beginning to feel the knot forming in the pit of your stomach as your orgasm as approaching vastly. But you didn’t want to it yet, not without him. “Joe, baby.” Barely being recognizable from your lips. “I-I need you to–stop.” You breathed, Joe finally coming to his senses as you were trying to grab his attention.

He crawled up to you immediately, “Did I-” you shook your head, placing your hand on his face. Giving him a soft peck, before meeting the pillow again.

“I need you.” You simply explained, Joe relaxed then. Smirking before he leaned down and kissed you again, deeply. You let your hands trail down his slender chest till you reached the buckle of his belt. Feeling his cock pressing against the restricting fabric as you palmed him, falling to pieces as he groaned against your neck now.

Joe backed up off the bed, you followed leaning up on your elbows as you watched him. Hearing the zippers and buttons of his jeans hit the floor. Feeling giddy like teenagers on their try, your cheeks getting red when he was left in boxers, to only get hotter as he took them off and his cock sprung free. Biting your lip at the sight. You crawled to the end of the bed, ready to take care of him as you reached. But Joe stopped you, clasping his hand into yours.

“No, baby.” He said, “I need to feel you.” He confessed. Bringing your hand to his mouth and kissing it and down your arm. You smiled, enthralled by all of this. This moment. You still felt like you were cloud 9, none of it felt real as you were in a dream state right now.

You followed Joe’s lead as he helped you lay back down. As he positioned himself between your legs, kissing you as he lined himself with you. One hand on your hip, the other on the side of your head. He thrusted in slowly, his eyes never leaving your face as you gasped from his size.

He waited for you to adjust to him, kissing your sweet spots till you gave him the go. Slowly pulling out and pushing back in a few times till your discomfort turned into moans hitting against the walls. You brought him down to you, kissing him hard before pulling away. His forehead leaning against yours and his eyes closed as he took you both to where you need to be. His name becoming sing song off your lips, telling him how good he was making you feel. Joe’s moans were what was bringing you closer. The way he looked above you was a sight for sore eyes. Your hands meeting his face and shoulders, around his neck and back again. Watching his body contract as he snapped his hips into yours.

“You look so beautiful” You whimpered as you watched him. He made a cross sound between a laugh and moan, his cheeks flustered now, kissing you heavy, “Fuck, I love you so much. So so much.” He stuttered, picking up his speed erratically. Making you aware he was close like you.

That familiar knot started forming again, like water beginning to boil at the pit of your stomach. “I’m so close” you breathed, then. Feeling yourself growing closer as your back began to rise off the mattress. Joe noticed, wrapping his arms around you and adjusting you both till you straddled his lap. The change shocked you, causing you to get louder. Joe watched your body collide beautifully together, before looking at you.

He got close to your ear, “Come with me, Y/N” He said, resting his forehead to yours, watching you. Before moving that hand again to your clit, helping you. As he thrusted up into you and grinded back to him.

Soon your orgasm broke free, your body beginning to tremble and profanities you didn’t even know exist fell from your lips with Joe’s name. Joe a second later met his, helping you both ride out the euphoric moment. Attaching his lips to yours in need before laying back down on the bed, still wrapped up in you.

He had both of his arms at each side of your head, moving your scattered hair from your pretty face. Your hands running up his back softly as you took each other in. Without any word as you both waited to cool off, staying like this. Meant to be.

#mine #joe mazzello blurbs #joe mazzello #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello smut #joe mazzello headcanons #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello imagines #borhap #bohemian rhapsody #slutforbritdick

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sevenseasofrog · 5 years

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Lads ‘n Lasses

pairing: highschool!ben x fem!reader

summary: single sex schools are never boring

word count: 2982

a/n: wagwan gs, this might not be to everyone’s taste but i’ll see how it goes, this is the first time i’ve imagined myself as the reader while writing ?? not as someone else reading it ?? it’s also set in a manchesterish sort of place bc i had a major mind block trying to write about anywhere else other than where i actually live ,, that probably sounds weird idk aha, it’s defo an au where ben basically is still in education and all sorts of chaos takes place as the year moves forward ,, anyway ,, enjoy !! if you have any questions or likewise feel free to send an ask bc i see how it could be semi confusing ,, love u all a lotta :) ❤️

here’s also some stuff that could make it less confusing (especially if you’re not familiar with lingo from north west england, i’ll maybe add to this with each new chapter that comes out :)

St. Mary’s/ Mary’s- the all girls school the reader attends, quite middle class and full of students who like to make drama for their own entertainment, strong focus on languages and arts

St. Peter’s/ St. Pete’s - the all boys ‘brother’ school to St. Mary’s, very laddish with a focus on sports and science

Niamh & Maria - the reader’s two closest and longest friends

Tram/Met - British version of an overground subway?

Shout - another word for a houseparty

Snide - unfair

Swear down - saying you are telling the truth

also, the reader and ben are between the ages of like 17 and 18ish, the whole thing isn’t very accurate to the uk school system but it works a little better like that so yall are gonna have to go with it aha

ps, this chapter is spilt in two bc i got very carried away when writing it and tumblr has a word limit, hmph. however, that does technically mean that i can say i’ve written two chapters not just one ?? go me !!

Chapter 1: September

4th of September, the night before a new term, new academic year and a nearly fresh start. Your last year at St Mary’s had not been something you were dreading so to speak, and now it was finally here. Thanks to upcoming exams, you only had a little over five months to get through before freedom, and eventually, a completely clean slate at a new, far less intimidating school environment. Anticipation building, you called it a night

6:15am. You woke up to the painful sound of your alarm clock, early morning sun peeking through the split between the curtains. Eager to silence the blaring noise you crawled out of the comfort of the duvet and hastily clicked the stop button in the centre of your phone screen. You made your way into the bathroom, careful not to wake your parents, brushed your teeth and quickly got undressed before stepping into the shower, letting the cool water run down your back without getting your hair wet, since you had it cut and washed yesterday afternoon. Slipping on your school uniform you caught eye of yourself in the mirror and decided that you had nothing to lose by putting on a little makeup, you had time after all. It was about 7am when you made your way downstairs, the house still quiet with only you awake. These mornings were the ones you liked best, just you and your own thoughts, with no one to bother you other than the dogs. It was still relatively warm during the September days so you chose to leave your jumper hung over a chair in the kitchen, putting just your blazer over your crisp, white blouse. Throwing an apple and cereal bar into your bag for later in the day, you figured that you might as well also pack some paracetamol and chewing gum for good measure, knowing it would come in handy eventually. You headed into the hallway to sit on the bottom step of the stairs to put your shoes on, tying the laces as tight as you possibly could, slung the black tote over your shoulder and grabbed your set of keys, which were usually on a hook which your dad had attached to the wall earlier in the year.

The walk to the tram stop was pleasant enough. There was no real breeze and you walked with your hands in you pockets to the beat of the music. Skipping down the steps to the platform to buy a ticket for the week, the change rattled in your pocket, and you had to cover it to stop anything flying out. Once you had finally managed to get the machine to produce a ticket after it spat out the coins you tried to use a few times, you spun round and walked towards the sheltered seats down the further end of the stop. It was only 7:45 by this stage and there were still very few people around. Missing the school rush was certainly worth it for you, and it also meant there was time to grab a coffee on the way to school with Niamh and Maria, who both got on at later stops anyway. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, deciding to text your parents, as you did every morning to let them know you were okay. You skipped a few songs before slipping your phone back into your pocket and looking up to examine your surroundings, following a good few weeks of not coming to the somewhat grimy metro stop, nothing had changed. The ground was still caked in chewing gum, graffiti littered the ticket machines, and the bin was, as ever, overflowing.

There was one thing different though, slightly odd too. A blonde haired boy who you had never seen before was stood on the opposite platform. Weird. It was then that you noticed he was in the uniform for St. Peter’s, with a backpack hung on one shoulder and a gym bag on the floor- grim move from the newbie. It suddenly hit you however. He was on the wrong platform, and could end up getting on a tram further into the city centre rather than away from it. God, this was awkward. You could leave him? it would be kind of funny? but also a bit snide.

No.

Don’t do that you told yourself. Deciding to ‘start the new term right’ you cleared your throat before shouting across

“You going to St. Pete’s mate?”

He looked up from the ground, obviously somewhat confused, checking to see whoever the person who had shouted was talking too. Luckily, this was quite easy, given that he then noticed that he was in fact the only person on the platform. You gave a wave and as friendly a smile as you could muster given it wasn’t even 8 o’clock yet, in a desperate attempt to get his attention, which just so happened to work.

“Um, yeah. Why?”

“Because given that you’re on the wrong platform, you’re gonna have a very hard time getting there”. His jaw dropped a little

“You are joking, right?”

“Nope!”, you popped the ‘p’, just for emphasis, “So... are you just gonna stand there like a lemon or change platforms then?”. He quickly picked his bag off the ground and jogged up the steps to the bridge. As he crossed you rolled the waistband of your skirt up, realising that you previously looked a little to nun-ish for your liking. By the time you had finished fixing up your appearance the mysterious blonde was plodding down the steps, towards you. Shit. Now what?

You had just about composed yourself by the time he reached you.

“Ben. Ben Jones” he spoke, before offering his hand to shake.

“You’re very proper aren’t you!?”, you thought out loud “guessing you're not from up here then hm? Name’s y/n l/n by the way, I go to St. Mary’s”, you said, trying to remain friendly.

“Yeah, moved up from Bournemouth at the start of summer. My parents wanted to come up here so I had a chance of getting some sort of sports scholarship or something for rugby, y’know, for uni and that”. He spoke with quite a low, quiet voice, but definitely had a southern accent that you couldn’t imagine going any time soon. Now he was stood nearer, you had managed to get a clearer picture of Ben; he was very well built and had the physique of a genuine sportsman, He wasn’t too tall- but still taller than you by a considerable amount. His facial features were mostly soft, although his nose looked like it could have been broken in past games and he had the most striking green eyes.

“Well, you’d have had a pretty difficult time getting anywhere if you were stuck in the centre of town.” you both let out a laugh.

“Honestly, I’m such a melt, only I could do that on one of the few days that being on time actually matters”. You broke eye contact momentarily to see that a tram was approaching.

“Right then” you said, stepping towards the edge of the platform. “We’re a bit early but I normally get a coffee anyway, you can come if you want? I mean, you don’t have to get this one if you don’t want but if you do then the offer’s there..” You trailed off, noticing that you had waffled on a bit.

“Aha, no it’s fine! I’d be happy to get this one, you’re literally the first person I’ve spoken to who’s like, my age so it’s not like I have anyone to wait for. Plus, I’ll probably get lost if you abandon me now.” He looked up with puppy dog eyes after picking his gym bag off the floor again.

Stepping on the tram, you decided to offer him your first piece of valuable advice; “Right… Well. If we’re gonna be mates I better give you the rules of the road up here”.

“Go on then, local expert”, he said with a smirk.

“First things first. Don’t put your bag on the floor. It’s crusty and makes you look like a gimp”.

“Noted”, he spoke as the pair of you sat on the grey seats.

“Second. Most of the boys are maniacs and the girls are awful bitches, I’d say that I’d help you figure out who’s who but you’ll probably be able to decide for yourself”.

“Hm, you’re really selling it to me. The brutal honesty is a nice touch”. You gave a playful punch to the side of his arm, with a grin smeared across your face.

“Swear down mate, you’ll thank me later for this though.”

The journey passed in a flash, the pair of you talking like friends reunited. You learnt that he had a beagle named Frankie, lived not too far from you, he played rugby for teams but also enjoyed drama and music.

“You’re quite the character aren’t you! can’t say I took you for a performing arts kinda guy”

“Well… What kind of person did you take me as then, all knowing-y/n”

“Well Ben from Bournemouth.. that would be telling wouldn’t it, I can tell you however that this is our stop though”. You both stood up, grabbing your bags and heading for the doors of the carriage. You had a text from Niamh and Maria earlier on in the journey saying they’d be late and there was no point waiting for them, so you carried on the walk alone with Ben.

“If I left you here right now, would you have any clue where to go?” you questioned, genuinely intrigued.

“Erm.. no… I would have to stand around for a bit and hope someone takes pity on me”

“What about google maps though??”

“Hmm.. Let’s just say that there’s a reason I don’t take geography”

The coffee shop was about the same distance from the tram stop as is was from school, and it was about 20 past 8 when you pushed open the door with a small chime. It was a cosy little café, situated on the corner of the market street with wicker chairs outside and brown leather sofas inside. You never stayed in however, much preferring to enjoy whatever you brought during the rest of the walk to school. Today was a latte day, no questions asked. You liked to rotate throughout a few different drinks, depending on your mood. Ben stood close by as you explained how you’d most definitely be on black coffee by this time next week, but you might have the odd pumpkin spiced latte as September moved into October, just for novelty really. He gave out a small chuckle,

“You really are in a league of your own aren’t you? I’ve known you like an hour and I’m convinced you hold the secrets of the universe or some shit”. You liked Ben. He was good company and you had a fair bit in common;

“and what if I did hold the secrets of the universe huh?”

“I’d use the black market to sell you to a looney philosopher somewhere or other and make myself some fat stacks.” You both doubled over in complete hysterics. Would it be weird to say that you’d never bonded so quickly with someone? yeah, probably you thought, brushing the idea away quickly. Your giggle fit was quickly broken up however when the barista announced that your drink was ready, you fished the loose change out of your pocket and handed it over moments later,

“keep the change mate” you said politely, turning on your heel towards the door once again.

“You really are quite the angel aren’t you?” the boy walking next to you said “ooooo, keep the change mate, I’m y/n and I am the source of all life and joy” he mocked.

“You know it blondie”, you retorted with a smirk.

You had walked a fair deal further, now following the main road and considerably nearer to school when Ben reached into his inside pocket .pulling out a cigarette and lighter. You silently watched out of the corner of your eye as he held the stick in his mouth and lit one end, he inhaled deeply before taking it from between his lips to exhale. Before his could bring his hand back up however, you plucked it from his fingers and drew a breath from it yourself before throwing it down and stamping on it. Ben simply stood with his mouth hung open looking dumbfounded. “Whoa steady on...What the fuck was that about then? Oh… and for the record, you owe me a cig now!”, he spoke with a tone of shock mixed with annoyance

“Boo-Hoo”, you spoke back, “But neither of us can have a first day back if we get excluded before we even get to school you dimwit. There’s teachers stood by the traffic lights down there”, you pointed further down the pavement. “See for yourself if you want…” you trailed off. Ben looked a little guilty, realising that he could have got you both in a good deal of trouble,

“Ah, Right, Okay… Sorry about that..”

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly. It’s fine, you’re new! You’ve got a lot to learn still”, you gave him a reassuring smile, but you could tell that he still felt a twinge of regret.

The pair of you carried on the walk in a comfortable silence, and as you approached St. Peter’s a thought struck you. “Right. After school, wait for me here, I don’t really want you being lost in a new town stuck on my conscience all night”

“How noble of you, Miss y/l/n! How will I ever repay you for this selfless act of charity!” He exaggerated, running his hands through his hair as he spoke.

“We’ll have to see about that one won’t we, I guess”, You hitched your bag back onto your shoulder properly. Before he turned into the courtyard of his new school he grabbed your arm,

“Wait a minute... you give off way too much chaotic energy for things to run smoothly. What’s your snap or your number or something incase something goes horribly wrong” He spoke again, with a slight twinkle in his eyes.

“Hm, go on then, I’ll give you my number then you can just add me on snapchat with it too if you really want. Two birds with one stone ‘n all that”, you reached into your bag and pulled out a pen. “Gimmie something to write on, chop chop matey!” you spoke hurridley, realising that you only had 10 minutes before you needed to be sat down in your first registration of the academic year. In a panic, he stuck out his hand, and you began to scribble down the first few digits.

“Fucking hell! I thought you were writing it down not tattooing it!”, he took in a sharp breath.

“Hm.. What.. Wait! Shit, sorry.. I’m a bit heavy handed”. You finished writing the numbers down with a conscious attempt not to press quite so hard and then threw the pen back into your bag.

“Aight then, I’ll see you later yeah?” He looked up at you,

“See ya later lemon boy”. You shot another smile before continuing on a few meters further down the path and approached the gates of St. Mary’s.

Hello old friend, you thought before taking a deep breath and turning into the school, with no way out for the next few hours at least. You stepped hurriedly through the labyrinth of corridors before reaching the room where you’d be registered. Throwing your bag onto your usual desk you could feel two sets of eyes on you.

“y/n l/n, You have some explaining to do! go on then, who’s the boy?” Niamh began, a devilish grin on her face.

“Gimme a second to sort my life out yeah? I just need to get my bearings then you can interrogate me”, you spoke, followed by a heavy sigh. After you put your bag in your new locker you returned to the desk where you were greeted by your long time friends once again. “Wait a minute, how do you even know? started hiring government spies or some shit?”

“Erm, no. But that’s quite a good idea actually. If you’re that desperate to know, Lewis sent me a message asking if you’d got a boyfriend over summer..” You let out a scoff before Maria could continue. “He still really likes you ya know?”

“Yes mum, I do know, you remind me most days” You all let out a laugh, attracting some attention from the neighboring tables.

“We’re off topic, you still need to explain yourself and we have like, 3 minutes until the bell goes” Niamh interrupted, she had always been the most conscious member of the group, as much as both you and Maria hated to admit.

“Right, I’ll keep it simple. I was at the met stop and he was stood on the wrong side so I told him to switch otherwise he’d never make it to school then he told me that his name’s Ben and he’s new and he’s in our year and then we got on the tram and then we went to get coffee then he decided he wanted a smoke and then I told him off and then we got to school and then I told him I’d meet him after school then I walked into school and now I’m here with you two” You barely paused for breath and gasped before either of your friends could continue, both of them looking shocked and rather confused.

“Right. You can explain that all again later in a bit only at least 76 times slower. ok? thanks? nice” is all Maria managed to respond before the door swung open and your teacher walked in...

Hope you enjoy !!❤️

Let me know if you want adding to the taglist !! :)

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