#charles: probably off doing scary boyfriend things | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wundurrae · 6 months ago

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@rattatoinger

saw someone do something similar and got motivated lol

I present to you…Albert rates F1!!! ( but they know nothing )

(parentheses is my input)

Oscar Piastri: He’s so me! He kind of looks like a side character in a Disney movie, he looks like the best friend of a Disney original movie whose there for like the first 10 minutes of the movie and then you never see him again. He’s silly.

Lando Norris: He has very strange unexplainable vibes. If he was next to me on a bus I’d scoot away. If he was my Uber driver I would play those “play this if you feel unsafe” audios. He also looks like he’s gonna have a mental breakdown. One curly fry in his normal fries away from ending it all. Probably be really good at the uncanny valley trend ( for some reason ).

George Russell: He looks like a middle school boy. Like an elementary school boy. He looks like when you open Facebook and there’s just a random kid. Looks like he’s the little brother of someone at a pta meeting. He made everyone play airplanes with him at recess. Looks like he’d help an old lady across the street but the wrong way.

Lewis Hamilton: Looks like a Dhar Mann actor. Would go on strike. “So you see…” If you stared at him for too long his eye would start twitching. Would flip if you ask him if he’s okay after that. Would be bandit in that one obstacle course bluey episode where he cheats and throws bluey to win.

Charles Leclerc: If he sneezed too hard his hair would jump off and crawl away. A creature. Polite, but a creature nonetheless. Really nice and great but if he stubbed his toe he’d start speaking in tongues. ( When showed a picture of a younger Charles ): he looks like that kid who cried cause his cat was gonna get sold.

Carlos Sainz: gives off the vibe of the guy who green screens himself onto the TikTok thirst traps. If I was in a coffee shop and he was behind me in line I’d get out of line to get away from him.

Max Verstappen: If there was a Minecraft movie he’d play Steve. Really square ( not sure if that’s a compliment ). Would give up his bus seat to a pregnant mother. Delightful. Would be scared of snap bracelets.

Sergio Perez: ( There was silence for a good minute ). Looks like the male version of “A single mom who works two jobs, who loves her kids and never stops.” Tucks phantom hair behind his ear and bats his eyelashes.

Logan Sergeant: Looks like Preston plays. Looks like he gets called a meow meow on tumblr. Would insist on watching horror movies but then scream and hide behind the couch when anything remotely scary happens. If he smiled really wide all of his molars would be gold teeth.

Alex Albon: He looks like if Mikey from tmnt was a person. Would partake in the trend where people do the spin and their boyfriends run in and grab them. Would have eaten glue as a kid. Gives off square marble vibes. Spoon in the fork drawer. Would also give up his seat to a pregnant mother.

Fernando Alonso: He has the human eyes that dogs have. Wouldn’t scoot away, I would just get nervous everytime he moves. At least once in his life has held out a hat for a penny.

Lance Stroll: Looks like he posts TikTok thirst traps but all the comments are making fun of him. Would turn around and say “so erm…that just happened.” Give the waiter a stink eye if they took too long to get his water. The villain in the Dhar Mann universe. Would be given a shitty redemption arc that doesn’t redeem him.

Esteban Ocon: ( Would have said toxic masculinity but saw the photo of him with the face mask things on ). Looks like he glued his hair back on. Looks like nat the rat from Barbie island princess. Why does he have an eagle? Looks like he was born in 2017 and never left. Also gives off “erm…so that just happened.”

Pierre Gasly: Is he ugly on purpose?

Yuki Tsunoda: I like him! Looks like he’d be mischaracterized by an entire fandom. Would be called “a little bean” and never be able to escape it. Guides an old lady across the street but the right way. Tried an ouija board and got cursed. Would say he’s a pro gamer but only plays fortnite and is kinda bad.

Daniel Ricciardo: Coquette. Looks like he sings the song that goes “Baby lock them doors and turns them lights down low.” Gives off the vibes of the “ROOTBEER” guy. ( when shown one specific picture ) LOOKS LIKE THE THUMB PEOPLE FROM SPY KIDS.

Nico Hulkenberg: Looks like a street interviewer. “Reminds me of Johnny Bravo as well” If Johnny Test was raised in a normal family with good values. Looks like a very distant cousin twice removed of Gordon Ramsey. Unironically listens to Ed Sheeran and plays it REALLY loud. You’d catch him humming “Shape of You” Looks like he’d go to a library solely for picture books. The uncle that only shows up to weddings and gets absolutely wasted. He probably ate his twin in the womb.

Kevin Magnussen: Thought his name was Kevin Magnussy. Is always in pain, even just a little bit. Turned 9 and went “augh my knees…” Eats garnishes off dishes ( forced to specify: grabs them full force with closed fist, gripping it, shoves it into his mouth and then goes back to normal ). If you tried to tell him about your interests he’d go “haha yeah” and walk away. Looks like he’d say “Don’t kill yourself…You’re so sexy haha”

Zhou Guanyu: ( When learning about his cat ) Sweetcorn? That’s cute! Would hear about controversial topics but does not research. He definitely posts fake paparazzi videos. Reminds me of the baby in the sardines commercial in cloudy with a chance of meatballs.

Valterri Bottas: Looks like Bertram. Drinks the ink out of pens ( force to specify: would drink the ink out of pens, you’d come back and ask him where it went, deny involvement but all of the ink would pour out of his mouth ). Looks like he purposefully goes into target and scratches the bottoms of Stanley cups off to give everyone lead poisoning.

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avastyetwats · 6 months ago

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Continued from here. @fornassau

"I look huge? You've seen yourself, Charles. We both know who the larger one is between the two of us." He made a face after saying that, realizing how filthy that must have sounded but he absolutely did not mean it that way. But he couldn't disagree with looking a little scary, he's heard that before. Probably didn't help that he didn't smile much. He had a nice smile, something he's been told when he did smile, but he just... didn't show it much. His attention returns to the girls being held by his boyfriend when he introduces them both and he gives them a little wave accompanied with that kind smile of his which widens when Lily finally peeks out from Charles's chest and says hi, shy as can be. "You're very welcome. Made sure to dust it off for you, too." He adds with a chuckle, following Charles deeper into his home.

"Of course." He nods, taking the flowers back as he follows him into his kitchen. He remembers where some things are from his last few visits here, but never needed to know where the vases were so it took him a couple of minutes to locate them, opening and closing a few cabinets until he found the correct one. It was during his first visit he learned how much Charles adored porcelain and he'd been reminded of it right now after opening said cabinets and finding more. It was cute, really. Incredibly so. "Yes, it would appear you have your hands quite full at the moment." He chuckles, what with Charles holding both girls in his arm. That is until he set Ellie down on the ground and she immediately hurried to the table and climbed onto the seat. "Does she? And she believes that I'm a good man? Are you so sure of that, Little Lily?" He questions in a plafyul tone, daring to reach forward and tickle her tummy which actually elicited a giggle from her lips. That made James beam ecstatically.

It wasn't that James was necessarily bad with kids. He was just... a little awkward at first. Took him just a few minutes to warm up, but it did help that Charles knew these girls. That they were related. It made James more comfortable... at ease, even if he had panicked earlier thinking they were his. But seeing Charles holding them... how good he was with them... how natural it all was for him... it made James feel... soft. Warm. Made him a little less scared of the future and a little more sure of what he wanted. Admittedly, someday he did want to be a father, he'd often thought of long before meeting Charles, but... tragedy struck and his life changed. Now, it had changed again, but for the better, finally. And gods if Charles didn't look good like this. He'd be an incredible father. Already was, really.

He snaps from his daze when he hears Charles's voice, cheeks a little red from the thoughts he'd been thinking, and he nods, clearing his voice. "Sure. The plans I originally had were suddenly canceled, so it would appear I'm available." He teases his boyfriend, showing he wasn't at all upset about their date being canceled. It didn't have to be, really. "We can still consider this a date, I think." He smiles at him, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek before he glances at Lily. "Mashed peas?" He gently gasps. "I think I might want what she's having." He chuckles, filling the vase with water and setting the flowers in them. "Ellie, where do you think I should put these?" Oh, he was falling right into it with ease.

#it just takes him a minute to warm up xD #then he's great #still awkward sometimes though #c; james flint #fornassau

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leclerced · 8 months ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/leclerced/745220654172864512/httpswwwtiktokcomtzprt2cxdt-this-has-acc

obviously when it all starts, you do start to cling to them a bit more right? Because all these murders happening around is enough to freak a sane person out, especially when it’s classmates, and people you see every day at college you know? and sure there are little things that tip you off, but you don’t want to see them, so you don’t really notice them. how they don’t want you driving around after dark can just be seen as them trying to protect you because there’s a scary murderer around! they’d love the fact that it makes you a little jumpy, and you become so much more attached to them, and they do also have to admit that your fear is hot as hell. They like being your big strong protectors you know?

And realistically. You are probably the safest girl on campus right now, and just because they are a little murder happy doesn’t mean they don’t love you, though it is odd that every time you tell them something that someone did to upset you, that person ends up dead.

🩰

ok sorry … this was actually saved in my drafts … so it was my fault this time not tumblrs. i hit save not post. but i found it !!!

the first murder happens after the three of you go to a party, at some point you get separated from them. you went to pee while they were playing beer pong and somehow get distracted, bump into some friends after peeing and forget to make your way back to your boyfriends. twenty minutes pass and you suddenly remember promising to return to them, so you do. only they aren’t at the pong table anymore. you check your phone for texts, assuming they went looking for you and may have texted or called, but there’s nothing.

you spend an hour searching the house party for them, texting and calling both before you give up and decide to go home. you text the group chat, and both of them privately, and hit the “notify anyways” button that tells you their phones are both on do not disturb. the walk is short and uneventful, but because you’re alone and it’s dark, you’re a bit scared until you get home. you go to bed and try not to be annoyed that you were ditched. there’s got to be a worthy explanation.

when you wake up hours later to your boyfriends crawling into bed, you’re angry. mostly, from being woken. “excuse me. what time is it?” you lift your wrist and check the time on your smart watch, not even allowing them enough time to check and answer. “it’s four am. where have you been?”

max grunts, “we fell asleep upstairs.” your brows furrow in confusion but before you can ask why they went upstairs, he adds, “fooled around.”

you gasp, “seriously? without me?” it’s a bit rude to be honest. to go upstairs at a party and not take you with.

charles presses his face into your chest, “m sorry, pet, i thought i texted you. make it up in the morning? too tired now.” you glare at max as he cuddles up next to you too, but let them smother you despite the annoyance.

you have a nice morning, they wake you up after letting you sleep in later than usual and clean the apartment up. they debate making breakfast to surprise you, but charles points out their lie from the night before, and how he promised they’d make make up for fooling around without you. so you’re woken with sex and then breakfast, in that order, so it won’t get cold. then you take a nice bath and finally pick up your phone to check it, screen any socials you may have posted on the night before.

instead of seeing photos and videos from the night before on your feed, it’s full of news stories about a student being found dead. it takes two scrolls of your thumb to find out who. eric from your physics class. the guy who sits behind you and incessantly bothers you with his attempts at flirting. the last time you saw him outside of class was a few weeks ago, when he tried to force himself on you at a party. he was kicked out by the frat brothers, one of them caught him trying to corner you on the way to fetch a drink and he was kicked out. you hadn’t told anyone about it, just forced yourself to forget about the situation. you feel guilty for thinking he deserved it.

you find out a few hours later what happened. or at least, what your friends know from the rumor mill. he was at the same party you were, and he left around midnight, then his roommate found him murdered when he came home. it never crosses your mind that charles or max, or both, could be behind it; they went upstairs around two in the morning and came home at four. two of your friends even joked about seeing them go upstairs only to see you coming down minutes before, saying they thought you may have been fighting since you weren’t with them.

you think it had to be related to something he did, you’re convinced it’s a one off. the first murder doesn’t shake you too much, but your boyfriends insist on walking you to and from every class, taking you anywhere you need to go. they make a schedule that works around their own to create a buddy system so you’re never alone. when neither are in class, they’d just wait around for you to need to go somewhere so they could escort you. you think it’s silly until the second person dies. an ex boyfriend who was really shitty to you. your first thought is it was probably a drug deal gone bad until you find out he was stabbed just like eric. that one shakes you.

you excuse it though, and list all the people that also knew both of them. your ex was in the same friend group before he was ousted for treating you like shit, and a few of your friends have had classes with eric. one shared a dorm with him freshman year.

the third one is a girl you met once in the library. she spilled coffee on your laptop and refused to replace it. that doesn’t mean you knew her. it’s not another person connected to you. you tell yourself there’s no reason to freak out. but you really fucking like the buddy system.

#ask #🩰 anon #ghostface lestappen

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mysticscorpia · 1 year ago

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🔍 What's been your biggest challenge in writing so far?

🖊 What do you write with? (Computer, paper, etc.)

📚 What are some books that have influenced your style?

🔍 What's been your biggest challenge in writing so far?

Wow, that's an interesting one. I think, is coming from a background of little faith, that the most of my life I've been able to live off cynicism. But with writing, I've had to have faith. That when I'm lost, I will find my way again through writing. That when I'm stressed, I'll find passion with it once more.

It's the realisation, that I feel half real without it, and that is one scary thing to deal with. How can one say, "they don't feel whole without writing"? You find that in books and media, where faith like that has foundation. But real life? That's where it gets difficult to justify.

So finding my faith in myself and keeping my faith in my passion for writing through hard times, is the thing I've struggled with the most!

🖊️ What do you write with?

Oooo, well, I mostly write with my computer now, as Google docs kept crashing on my phone, and I knew I actually needed to practice proper keyboard techniques on a computer!

On the odd occasion I'll jot stuff down on paper (such as when I go to my writing club,!) because I still want to be used to writing down things. You feel less comfortable otherwise!

(plus, it's more fun when you're feverishly writing with a fountain pen pretending you're a certain OG) 😂

📚 What are some books that have inspired your writing?

Wow, that's another unexpected question!

I think there's a lot, but I aim to make a shortlist: Skulduggery Pleasant by Derek Landy (a skeleton detective series), is actually something that made me fall in love with urban fantasy. I think Marissa Meyer's Lunar Chronicles series (which is making untraditional takes with traditional fairy tales), made me fall in love with powerful heroines, who can still fall in love, and have agency (oh, and probably one of the first monster boyfriends I fell in love with too).

I think poetry has also influenced the more poetic side to my prose (but I don't know how it came to be!).

I also have The Magician's Guild (The Black Magician Trilogy), by Trudi Canavan, for my deep abiding love for tragic characters and the first character who struck me so hard I cried at the end (which definitely made me fall in love with anti-heroes forevermore!).

So, for literal inspiration for writing, I would say the book A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, as both the quotes "to decrease the surplus population" and "dead as a doornail" can pop up in my writing!

Other than that, I'm not sure! I think it's easier to note books which have affected me, rather than my writing. Hence the examples above! Which, is a mix of two.

I loved your ask! Thank you!, 😋🙏💕

#enigma answers #Ask games #Emoji games #Writing asks

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timetorace · 2 years ago

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Hiiii I love your writing I was wondering if your requests are open if you wouldn’t mind doing a request for Pierre the same that you done for Daniel when he got in a crash and you’re super worried because he hasn’t woken up yet. If that’s okay, no worries if not! Thank youuuu

𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐬

I'M SORRY IN ADVANCE THIS IS PROBABLY MY WORST DRABBLE ANON. I imagined an accident like the one Alex had in Silverstone. I hope you like this anon, I didn't want to repeat the quotes or resources I used for Daniel. The 'Au con' thing I got it from here. NOT MY BEST.

ship: pierre gasly x fem!reader

warnings: hospitals. Minor accident.

word count: +1.0K

When you drive at 300 kilometers per hour, you are susceptible to unexpected accidents. It was part of the risk of doing that. Peter knew it. You knew it very well too. That didn’t mean you would have felt better when you watched as it crashed into the concrete wall. Alpha Tauri didn’t have the best car that year, they were still trying to fine-tune it and only Aston Martin and Williams had been further back in the constructors’ championship table. Pierre had been pushing the car to the max and had continued to push that weekend at his home Grand Prix.

He had been conscious after getting out of the car but they had had to put him to sleep to finish running a couple of tests. Pierre had been a little dizzy when they put him in the ambulance too, so they were going to keep him under observation for a few hours until a concussion was ruled out. In addition, the doctors had diagnosed him with an acute spinal cord injury but it was not serious so they hoped they could release him late at night at the latest. The old injury that Pierre dragged in his vertebrae because of a car accident that he had had with his parents when he was younger had not yet been evaluated. They had to wait for him to wake up for that.

You were worried, and you kept thinking that if he needed rest; he would not want to. Pierre was stubborn, and you doubted he would agree to take it easy for a few days. His definition of calm was to keep going to the gym instead of spending two hours doing just one.

You liked to play sudoku when you were nervous and usually Pierre would complete the words you didn’t know or you would try to solve them between the two of you. He liked to pretend he was dumb, but you knew he had been a nerd in school.

“Having fun without me?” His voice interrupted you, and you jumped in place, placing a hand on your heart.

“A notice would have been nice,” you replied, causing him to burst out laughing before wincing.

“Water” He panted almost voicelessly. You reached for a glass from the bedside table and handed it to him.

“Here”

After he took a sip, you took the glass again to put it aside.

“I’m done with the race?” He asked.

You nodded in response. The race finished almost three hours ago.

“How did that end?”

“Verstappen won, Hamilton and Russell after him, Charles had a DNF as soon as the race resumed”

“He must be furious,” Pierre commented.

“Yes, his radio was very self-explanatory,” you said and searched the Formula One app for Charles’s radio after going off into one of Paul Richard’s corners.

Your boyfriend hissed back, “Yeah, he’s definitely not happy, reliability issues again?”

You shook your head “Apparently not this time, he said it was all his fault”

“Charles won't say it out loud either if that’s the case.” Pierre rolled his eyes.

“Yuki also had a DNF after colliding with Ocon, I think”

“Ugh, au con” He grunted and you let out a laugh. He pronounced Ocon as ‘au con’ on purpose, which translated to stupid in French.

“And I think overall that’s it”

“I’m so mad,” He complained, leaning his head against the pillow.

“I know,” you paused “That crash was scary though”

“It looked worse than it was”

“They were picking up your car parts for almost forty minutes after they took you out of there,” you pointed out. It wasn't ‘worse than what it was‘. It was horrible to watch, and that was it.

“That bad?” Pierre frowned “I only felt the impact”

“It looked horrible. I thought you had passed out at one point when you didn’t respond on the radio.” Everyone in the garage had done it when his engineer received no response on the radio.

“Between the heat and the shock, I almost made it,” he admitted.

“How does your back feel?” You asked, leaning a little closer to him.

“It hurts,” He sighed “The vertebrae...?”

“Too soon to say, but they think you should be fine. You have an acute spinal injury that would not be serious and the concussion,” you informed him.

“I hope to get out of here soon,” He moaned “I hate hospitals”

You nodded your head. Your heart had returned to beating a little more normally. Even though the doctor had told you that everything was fine, you didn’t calm down until he saw he was awake. “That was scary,” you said after a couple of minutes of silence.

“I’m good, I promise” He reached out to take your hand.

“It was scary nonetheless” You swallowed hard before he kissed your hand in an attempt to comfort you.

“I know,” He nodded “I’m sorry you have to go through that”

“Perks of the job, isn’t it?” You responded with a sigh.

“Yeah”

“Did the doctors tell you when I’m going to leave this place?” Peter asked.

“Maybe tonight. They have to finish running some scans and the doctor will be here any minute.”

“Good,” He stirred in bed “I hate hospitals”

“I know, but to keep repeating that won’t make it any better,” you scoffed.

“I can try” He winked at you and you knew everything was fine. At least he was in a good mood, which was a start. “Did you finish it?” Pierre asked, nodding at the sudoku puzzle.

“I left you some that I didn’t know”

“Topic for today?”

“Motorsports” You let out a giggle. At least sudoku was on topic.

“I like that,” He nodded “I don’t think I can read them or move enough to write. Can you read them to me?”

“Sure” You agreed. With one hand intertwined with his and the other with a pencil, both completed the sudoku. The worst was over. The hours of waiting before knowing he was okay. Now you knew Pierre was fine. He was going to ache for a couple of ideas and he was going to cry about not being able to do his full gym routine, but everything was going to go back to normal, eventually.

#pierre gasly drabble #pierre gasly one shot #pierre gasly imagine #f1 imagine #f1 drabble #formula one imagine #formula one drabble #pierre gasly x reader

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shotorozu · 4 years ago

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encountering a ‘pick me’ girl

character(s) : kirishima eijirou, todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki (bnha)

warning : PICK ME GIRL, misogyny (?) pick me girl makes an off handed comment about your body but it’s not detailed at all

PART TWO — PART THREE

legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, but they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff, angst if you squint

note(s) : i made 2 versions of this post so,, if you’re reading this— then i probably decided that i liked this one more than the other one i made,, anyways, i used real life examples 💀

»»————-　♡　————-««

kirishima eijirou

i’d imagine that eijirou would have an idea of what a pick me girl is— i mean, there were probably 2 of those girls in middle school

but has he experienced it first hand? nahh.

though, eijirou didn’t think he’d encounter one when he was already in a healthy and committed relationship!

eijirou is practically friends with everyone— and yeah, even the most unexpected. so, he’s bound to accidentally befriend a pick me girl

him, being the nicest one out of all of the characters in this list, will still be nice to said pick me girl, despite wanting to snob them to the core

because really— you can’t really fight fire with fire in some cases

but, he can be everything but lenient when the pick me girl starts insulting you for doing certain things, and for absurd reasons too

like,, how you laugh, and how you take care of yourself (for example— if you wear makeup, or how you style your hair)

which is odd! everything about you is everything but the things the pick me girl has stated so.. he cannot stand by.

SCENARIO

the girl giggles to herself after that snide comment leaves her lip gloss coated lips. eijirou shifts uncomfortably— honestly taken aback by the anything but subtle insult that was thrown at you

“like.. seriously! it’s honestly quite superficial if you look at it like that. who the hell would put that much effort infront of your boyfriend? i’d assume they’d see everything AND everything but.. i guess not.”

you blink. superficial? now that’s a new one. the girl infront of you has been babbling insults sugarcoated in boasts the entire time, and you’re just wondering if it’s about time you guys leave but—

“well that’s unfair,” your boyfriend laughs, “i put the same amount of effort as this cutie right here,” eijirou pokes at your cheek, earning a quick laugh from you— which he can only thank the heavens for that

“but that’s different. it actually looks put together when you’re doing it, eiji.” the certain glint in her smile makes you want to wipe it right off with a dirty mop, “it’s impossible to look put together with expensive clothes, but being built like a—”

the sound of the sliding of a chair is quicker than your actions, and it easily cuts her off.

“i’m sorry, but we gotta go, it’s totally not cool of you to say those things about Y/N!”

“what? but i mean.. it’s true, right? i’m looking out for them! they’re literally out here l—”

“bye!” eijirou waves her goodbye with your hand, dismissing the sour expression on her face— as he dashes off with you

you’d question how he’s just so nice to people like that, but when he turns around, you could see the distaste in his eyes

“so that’s what a pick me girl’s like,” shaking his head, his expression lights up with such a quick manner “i’ll never make friends that are like that again!”

safe to say, eijirou’s friend list has been a a person shorter ever since that incident

bakugou katsuki

oh, so that girl’s bold bold.

if she thinks she could get away with being a not so subtle pick me girl infront of bakugou katsuki, then she couldn’t be more wrong.

it’s absolutely revolting— i mean, he hasn’t displayed any romantic feelings towards ANYONE that isn’t you.

also, they’re quite gutsy if you ask me. so congrats for having guts??

i don’t think he’d be friends with a pick me girl. he’s very selective of who he’s befriending, so it’s probably your friend that’s the pick me girl in this case

he wouldn’t know what a pick me girl would be, but he’d probably know the description of one.

over some time, he’d grow some resistance to insults directed at him, but when someone insults his s/o

oh boy. that’s not good. remember when i said that katsuki was almost like your scary and intimidating dog

this is what i mean

knows he can’t make a scene, so his first option is to be dismissive asf— but if said pick me girl literally can’t get it, he won’t be afraid of shoving some explosions into her face

because his hands are rated e for everyone

SCENARIO

“so you wanna be picked or something, is that it?” he hates how you literally have the resistance of a rock— which is something he always liked, but in this case hated. if it weren’t for you— he would’ve blasted explosions into her sorry excuse of a face until it’s beyond recognition (that wouldn’t be hero like, is what you’ve said in the past, but he disagrees.)

but seriously? ugh. he just wants to leave this horrid place, and make some dinner with you in the comfort of his home. why are you even friends with her anyway? she’s not even trying to be slick at this point.

“p-picked? i’m not understanding, katsu.”

“it’s bakugou.”

“right,” her laughter is like nails on chalkboard, “i’m just watching out for Y/N, y’know? there’s no point in wearing all of that.. on their face.” and she’s obviously referring to your obviously very well done makeup

“it’ll make your skin terrible in the long run! and really— i couldn’t really understand on why someone would wear that much, when you could survive with i dunno.. lip gloss at most?”

you would’ve actually said something as a rebuttal, but your boyfriend is quicker, and a lot more direct than anyone else in the area.

“just say you can’t do makeup and fucking scram,” katsuki’s ice cold glare finally breaks out of the act he’s been trying to hold together for you

“their makeup is fucking bomb as hell, compared to your ridiculous spider lashes, lady. come back when you’ve watched james charles’ entire fucking channel.” he harshly states in similar bakugou fashion, despite the lack of screaming.

and if you squinted hard enough, you could see tears welling up in her eyes. but katsuki tugs your hand before anything else could be said

“let’s fucking go, you need better friends.”

he makes you cut ties with all of them, and he practically scolds your terrible choice of friends— but he goes quiet when you tell him that you’ve been friends with her since middle school

“good fucking riddance. next time, i’ll punch them as soon as they say something outta line, got that?” and next time (hopefully, there won’t be a next time) you’ll actually lash out— or maybe,, you’ll let him loose for once.

todoroki shouto

now shouto might be,, socially unaware sometimes. but he can tell whenever someone’s trying to insult his s/o

like,, right away.

now— you both run into this person after a pleasant date, and she eagerly presented herself as your friend

so, her attitude catches him off guard because who’d have anything rude to say about you and towards shouto’s face? especially when it’s about something normal.

like,, wasn’t she your friend?? why is she even like this?

his hostility is very well known, so they should be scared.

he gets detached from the conversation, and he’ll immediately go cold— and shouto would probably go as far as walking away with your hand in his

doesn’t matter if he properly says goodbye or not— if a girl’s being rude to his s/o, they obviously don’t deserve his usually polite attitude. nope, that’s a luxury.

oh— and what more when they’re seeking for his validation. newsflash! said pick me girl won’t be get any from him.

SCENARIO

shouto couldn’t stop the bitterness bleeding into his mouth, when the girl in front of him continued to babble and take up the valuable time he had left with his s/o

initially, she presented herself as your friend from middle school— but as of now? she seems to be more interested in him more than you, despite knowing you first.

she’d ask him a string of obvious questions with very obvious answers, like ‘is she treating you well?’ ‘is she acting correctly?’ and questions of the sort

“oh, sorry! i’d hate to cut this conversation short, but—” you finally decide that it was about time to leave, while shouto looks pretty,, deadpanned right now, you could tell that he was gradually starting to get irritated by your friend’s words.

“wait. thats.. kind of controlling, don’t you think? do you ever let shou make decisions?”

“uh.. controlling? since when??” you question at the accusation. this girl knows nothing about your relationship dynamic, and she’s already jumping the gun and making conclusions.

your gaze snaps back to shouto, who looks just as surprised as he could possibly be.

“yeah! it clearly looks like he still wants to talk” which is an obvious lie, shouto just wants it out of here “i wonder how you managed to snag such a guy like him,” she comments with a smile that looked anything above suspicion (yet, it makes your stomach churn)

you could see the way her hand gets gradually closer to him— and frankly, you’re not sure about what she was planning to do next, “you wouldn’t need to dress all expensive and fancy, if you’re with a girl with an already classy appear—”

“i think this conversation is over,” shouto grip is firm on the wrist that was attempting to grab his shoulder, shouto makes no attempt to even look at the girl infront of him “i don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it’s not humorous. at all.”

“what?” she stammers, drawing her hand back “i-it’s obvious they don’t know how to take a joke! this is why there are barely any good w—”

shouto’s next actions knocks her speechless, his hand rests at the small of your back, before gently guiding you forward— “love, what movie are we watching later?” he says, making an effort to press a quick, yet intense kiss on your lips

“oh,” you breathe out, surprised by this action. “don’t be so tense, love.” shouto comments on how tense your shoulders have looked, ever since she started running her mouth, “now.. what movie do you want to watch tonight? comedy? thriller?”

“you pick,” you laugh at the quick shift of topic. and when you look behind you, you could see shame and defeat welling up on her face. shouto finally feels like he could smile again, the bitterness dissipating from his mouth

after shouto questions you if that was what a pick me girl was, he makes sure that you guys won’t ever encounter such thing again

“you.. don’t have more friends like that, right? if you do— we could always do another friend list cleansing.” this statement makes you laugh but shouto is anything but joking

but being reminded of his reaction to that ‘pick me’ girl does puts a smile on your face.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

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karlajoyner · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request a Charlie Gillespie x reader , where Charlie Gillespie is the reader’s boyfriend who dress as a clown for Madison Reys’s halloween party while they were in Canada and where Jeremy and Owen dress as clowns too to scare to Charlie’s girlfriend who is the reader but she hates getting scared.

It’s Stupid (Charlie Gillespie x Reader)

A/n: Hey guys so I hope you enjoy this one. I don't know if I'm gonna post the sunset curve one next yet because I have so much to work on for it. So I might post the one after unless you guys are willing to wait! Let me know if you are if you'd just prefer I post the next one!

Requested by: @fantomlovesjuke4ever (Tumblr)

Warnings: None

————

I placed the orange beanie over my head. Finally finishing off my final look.

Giggling to myself I walked out into the living room to see Savannah there in her Kim Possible outfit.

"How do I look?"

"Oh my god Charlie's gonna die!" She laughed throwing her head back.

"You look great"

"Are you sure it's not too....booby" I said moving the muscle tee away from my body to show my black bra. The muscle tee being directly from the show itself courtesy of the wardrobe department.

"It's Madison's Halloween party. I don't wanna show up looking like a slut"

"It's not too booby. You look great plus no ones gonna get to look under there except Charlie" She teased.

I playfully rolled my eyes grabbing a large oversized jacket to cover my costume.

"Where'd Tori go?"

"She went to go check on the boys to see if they were almost ready"

"Oh sounds good. Hey thanks again for letting me room with you two"

"Of course you know you're always welcome when your here. Plus I know Kenny always appreciates that you choose not to room with your boyfriend when you visit us"

"Kenny and apparently Owen too" I said earning a giggle from the girl.

"Tori just texted said the boys are ready and scary"

"Really?"

"Yeah. What's Charlie gonna be this year?" She asked as I grabbed my phone off the kitchen countertop.

"Beats me. He said it was top secret"

"Same for Owen and Jer" She spoke as I received a message from my boyfriend himself.

"Oh" I muttered.

"What's up?"

"Charlie just texted they'll meet us there. Something about needing the makeup department"

"Oh my"

"I just hope it's not anything too scary. I hate anything terrifying. I don't even watch scary movies at night due to the fact that I'm a complete wimp"

"Does Charlie know that?" Savannah bit her lip.

"Of course we've been dating for 6 months. If he didn't I'd be worried" I said walking out the front door.

I sighed stepping out of the Uber taking in the freezing cold air. Nothing too bad.

"How are you not freezing your socks off?" Tori asked.

"Toro you forget I've lived in Canada my whole life. You Californians cannot take the cold"

"Your the female version of Charlie. It's actually crazy" The girl said as she looped her arm through my own.

"Yeah he kinda rubbed off on me" I smiled walking into the warehouse with my two temporary roommates.

Immediately we spotted Madison, Sacha and Jadah.

"Y/n!" Madison and Jadah shouted running up to me.

"There's my angel. And my devils" I grinned at my boyfriends cast mates. Taking in the warmth's of the new surrounding.

"Okay let's see it. I've been waiting in anticipation to see your take on Luke Patterson" I giggled opening up the jacket to reveal the rest of my costume.

"You look great!"

"I think you look better than Charlie"

"Yeah my guns look great too don't they?" I asked flexing my arms causing laughter to erupt from the group.

"Okay seriously though where's my boyfriend and his posse"

"We have no idea"

"I do" Sacha stated smirking at me.

"Are you going to tell me?" I asked.

"Nope" As soon as the word left his lips my phone dinged.

"It's Charlie. He's asking me to meet him in the makeup. Where's that?"

"I'll walk you" Sav said taking my hand. We made it to a large door with windows to peer in.

"It's dark" I stated jiggling the knob to find it locked.

"Well that's weird" Sav said knocked. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as the door opened slowly.

"Take my hand"

"Okay Troy Bolton" Savannah said making me giggle. We walked forward slowly my heart dropping feeling a pair of arms grab my waist. I screamed in fear as the lights turned on. The three faces in front of me smiling widely.

"Ahhh" I shut my eyes hugging Savannah tightly. Who seem to have had a similar reaction because she didn't hesitate to pull me close either. My heart beating out of my chest wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and cry all my anxiety out. We gripped onto each other for dear life as......laughter erupted?

I slowly peeled my eyes open to see Charlie laughing loudly clutching his stomach along with Owen and Jeremy. A frown fell upon my face as I let the light haired girl go.

"Charlie" I whispered a small tear escaping my eyes.

The laughter quickly died down. Charlie's face now expressing concern.

"Y/n baby what's wrong?"

I scoffed walking past Savannah to be anywhere but here.

Flashback

"Come on babe"

"Charlie I'm serious. I hate scary movies and I hate being scared. It sends me into this weird panic mode and I get anxious" I ranted watching him turn the tv off.

"You probably think I'm some sort of freak who can't take a joke. If you don't wanna date me anymore that's fine but just don't make me watch that movie especially right now" I spoke looking out the window into the darkness of the dimly lit street.

"Why would you ever think I wouldn't want to date you because of this?" He asked hurt flashing his eyes.

"I don't know. It's just my past boyfriends have called me lame for not wanting to go out to a scary movie with them at night. Or not wanting to dress up as some sort of badass scary character for Halloween. It just sucks to be left out because of some stupid irrational fear"

"It's anything but irrational. So you got a fear of something. We all do. Hey I'm insanely afraid of spiders"

"Really?" I asked biting my lips.

"Yeah baby. It's a stupid fear I know but something about their long legs makes me just ugh" He said getting the chills.

"It's not stupid. Thanks Charlie" I smiled.

"Anytime y/n. Now come on" He spoke sticking his hand out to me.

"What about the movie?"

"We're still watching a movie. Frozen to be exact. Upstairs in my room, cuddling up in a pillow fort. Sound good?"

"Sounds amazing" I grinned taking it. I sighed contently as he pulled my into a hug.

"I promise I won't scare you or take any of your fears with a pinch of salt"

"I promise to do the same" I said looking up at the boy in front of me. Looking up at the face that I was slowly but surely falling in love with.

I made my way back towards the party immediately spotting Madi and Tori talking. Their eyes landed on me quickly sensing something wrong.

I made my way over to them wiping away the strayed water droplets under my eyes.

"Hey what's wrong?"

"The guys are assholes" I spoke bitterly.

"Did they scare you too?" Madison asked as I nodded. The two understanding me immediately.

"Yeah..... Its just when Charlie and I started dating I specifically explained to him why I don't like being scared and he promised he'd never take that one specific fear and use it against me. And he just scared the living crap out of me and Savannah. Which I'm glad I did figure out it was him and the boys before I passed out or puked. I'd expect it from Owen and Jer but my own boyfriend. I know it's stupid and I probably over reacted but I just- I've always made sure to kill every damn spider in our damn apartment so he wouldn't have to do it. And he does this to me"

"I don't think you overreacted. You have the right to be mad"

"You think?"

"Yeah but I also know Charlie's an idiot and needs to be reminded of things from time to time"

"You're right" I sighed.

"Look he's obviously gonna apologize. Just don't be too hard on him. His memories almost as bad as his handwriting" Madison joked making me let out a strangled chuckle hearing my name being called.

"Y/n! Y/n! Where is she?" Charlie shouted running into the room. The music coming to a halt.

All eyes landed on me as Charlie ran up to me.

"Please continue" I awkwardly chuckled pulling the brunette off into a random hallway.

The loud music blaring through the speakers once more.

"What is it Charles?" I spoke sternly turning around to face the boy who's makeup was much worse than before.

"Y/n baby I'm so sorry we pranked you. The boys convinced me that it'd be funny to get as many people as we could today. I didn't know you'd get so upset. I'll go take off this stupid costume right now if you want me to but please don't be mad at me baby. I love you" He finished nearly out of breath. I took in a deep breath hearing the sadness in his voiced as he had ranted like any other time he screwed up which wasn't very often. But still.

"Do you remember the night we watched frozen in your room?" I questioned nervously playing with the rings on my fingers. Another prop from Luke's character that tied my costume together.

"Of course it was amazing. We made a pillow fort and ate popcorn and afterwards we did stuff that was definitely not pg 13" He smirked making me roll my eyes.

"Do you remember why we watched frozen?" I spoke once more hoping he would get where I was going with my questions.

"Yeah we watched it because- oh. Y/n I'm so sorry. I'm such an idiot I can't believe I forgot about that"

"Yeah......Listen I'm not mad that your a clown which by the way I do happen to also be afraid of too but it's not gonna kill me. And I'm certainly not mad at Owen and Jeremy because they wanted to have a little fun tonight. But they didn't know about my anxiety that I get whenever I get scared. You did Charlie"

"I know I did" He groaned throwing his head back.

"And if my memory wasn't so damn bad I wouldn't have even thought about doing it baby. I hope you know that. And I'll do literally anything to get you to forgive me starting with never putting you through that again when your with me" He spoke taking my hands in his.

I sighed intertwining our fingers pulling him close to me.

"I know you won't. I also might have overreacted a bit" I said nuzzling my face into his chest.

His arms immediately wrapping around me completely.

"You didn't overreact. Overreacting is me when I see a spider. In all seriousness I love you and I'm really sorry for doing that"

"It's fine Charlie. I'll get my revenge on you guys" I spoke kissing his cheek before skipping away back to the party.

"Y-you're what? Wait baby your what? Y/n!" I heard him call after me as I laughed.

————

Up Next: Sunset Curve x Reader (Maybe)

Carrie Wilson x Reader

Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Alex x Male Reader

————

@lolychu @headheartbellarke @bookish0918 @kcd15 @ifilwtmfc @moviesbooksandfandoms @lovesanimals @lavender-writer @kaitieskidmore1 @morganayennefertyrell @iloveteenwolf @ghostofmgg

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floggingink · 4 years ago

Text

OH HERE WE GO LADIES IT’S RIVERDALE, CHAPTER EIGHTY: “Purgatorio”

I’m tuning in to be VERY entertained on the grounds that I missed almost the entirety of S4 and will not understand anything

we open with an incredible analogue comparing the football team to the Army, as men do construct rituals: football players get blown into the sky, etc., in a heartrending mash-up of Archie’s innocence + the American ideal/expectations/pipeline of masculinity

Archie Company is decked out appropriately to storm Hürtgen Forest

that art direction trope where a character’s hearing goes EEEEEEEEEEEEEE after an explosion……...delightful

the Vixens and friends cheering him on from the sidelines as if Archie can only process his unprocessable present through the lens of his past………...hits the spot

distressingly wood-based rifles for our purposes

Archie > Dawson: I don’t mind telling you I felt emotion upon Archie hoisting his war buddy over his shoulders to that quadruple-toned “Chivalric Archie Using His Strength for Good” tune, like when he broke his whole hand busting Cheryl out of Sweetwater River

WHEN HE SAW HIRAM LODGE, I’M TELLING YOU!

Hiram’s dragon-scale gloves? absolutely savory; he would

“Yonkers” is one of those New York place names I don’t totally buy is real (Poughkeepsie is another)

the sepia-toned light in this hospital room rings true judging by all the Captain America fanfiction I’ve read; I also like the mint-colored hand towels draped on Archie’s bedframe bought, one assumes, using the Department of Defense’s Kohl’s Cash

Archie made Sergeant, which is the best ranking for a fictional character: important enough that they can be a leader, get into trouble; low-profile enough that you don’t have to write them in the room making terrible decisions; probably won’t die immediately, as a Captain or Private might be

Fifth period is AP English: Archie reads A Farewell to Arms to Corporal Jackson, a WWI novel by Hemingway that Jug definitely turned him onto

Christ, Archie looks good in that on-leave jacket thing

I like Jackson’s subtle graph paper-print hospital gown

Gay?!: was Jackson in love with Archie? is he gonna bus to Riverdale once he’s off his pain meds? RAS, is that you in there?

God you know I love that haunted-ass Exorcist wooden bench bus light lighting

how long has the WW been relocated under Pop’s??? I do NOT know what happened to La Bonne Nuit

Sexy, aesthetic Southside: Fangs’ hair? his Tony Stark glasses? the girls’ “I’m a Slave 4 U” Burmese pythons? Toni’s headdress and immaculate glossed lip?

Sixth period is Intro to Film: the only part of From Dusk till Dawn I’ve seen is Salma Hayek putting her toe in Quentin Tarantino’s mouth but judging from that I figure I’d like the rest

The female gaze: Jesus Sweet Pea still looks good

Toni’s stage is flanked by twin pillars of melting candles and I would like someone to track those down for my bathroom

if they lay one hand on Pop Tate…

Betty appears to be, on her own, running the FBI training course. Betty is such a freak

Betty’s FBI-appointed psychologist is “Dr. Starling,” wears a great yellow blouse; Betty eats what appears to be a mini-sized Milky Way

her blond FBI trainer-boyfriend (uh) Glen appears to be an unholy fusion of Jimmi Simpson and that one actor with brown hair and really sharp light eyes whose acting credits I can’t think of right now, you know who I’m talking about (not the guy from Vampire Diaries)

I quite like her patterned blouse and I hate his yellow (gold?!) and blue tie

Please protect Betty: obviously we stan the Silence of the Lambs shit even as it remains infuriating Bryan Fuller couldn’t get his hands in it

Betty’s cat’s crying was so disturbingly baby-like that I had to leave the room once I realized it was in fact a cat

I’ve watched the Elisa Lam tape too many times in recent hours to handle this hallway shot

REALLY GROSS LICKING NOISES

the Trash Bag Killer coming at her was scary :(

Betty’s lovely blue knit cardi with the puffed sleeves!

50 Shades of Betty: clearing her throat before the doctor quite finishes her sentence—Lili Reinhart continues to be great at conveying “slightly perturbing subterranean tension”

was Charles a serial killer too??? oh damn!

Betty has been successfully holding off giving Glen a key to her place until now, an era that must come to a close

fellas, “Do I at least get a kiss?” is a bad move

Veronica was rich: Veronica’s new digs: exposed brick, bougiely avant-garde chandelier; possibly an elevator door right there behind the dude?

Veronica has married Hiram, to no one’s surprise

Chadwick looks like Jimmi Simpson and brunet Evan Peters plus a jaw

Veronica’s single-puffled-sleeved gown…..madamn (she has absolutely been taking secret birth control pills)

Summer + Blair = Veronica: of course Veronica would be great at Howard Ratner’s job; I MUST know what ��specialty showcase haute couture offense” Vinnie has committed

T-Dubbs’ green jacket

Veronica pretended she was working at like, a department store? but she MISSED the EDGE post-day-trading

their apartment is so expensive that their bedroom is totally exposed

oh my god, Hermione

Best costume bit: please get me these satiny green high-waisted slacks?! and ugh her blouse has shoulder tassels……..she’s flourishing

“That’s threatening to an alpha like Chad.”

yes, they have a private elevator. fine.

Glen and Chad get their ties from the same Men’s Warehouse

“When that helicopter went down on the way to Martha’s Vineyard…”

you know kissing is 4-real when one person cups their hand to the back of the other person’s neck all close

I don’t understand the drop of the Glamergé egg but I appreciate that there is one and that Veronica is like, get this the fuck out of my house

Veronica’s shiny cropped tweed two-piece, Yvonne’s weird feathery coat that matches her bf’s shirt (you know she’s supposed to be “too much” because she’s got big hoop earrings)

God, Jughead is next and I’m not gonna be able to handle it

OH GOD IT’S SO MUCH WORSE THAN I THOUGHT

Alphabet City?! the piano?? the fucking East Coast Beat typewriter shit—the day robe? I’m—READING CLUBMASTERS? FORSYTHE???

OH GOD HE’S DATING ANOTHER WRITER (she has nice pants)

Jughead eats: “that place you like” is a HOT DOG STAND in the middle of SOME GRASS

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: Jughead wears high-ankle light blue jeans, grey socks, and spectators that blend to create the illusion of wading boots. I’m going to commit a crime

Jughead doubts it: “So did Kerouac. And Hemingway. And Fitzgerald.”

fuck yes I love Floundering Jughead, and his Pushy Agent who pronounces “career” like “Korea,” and the continuing tradition of Jughead getting kicked out of his house

I like Literary Grifter’s sweater

the Brat Pack, and most of the Rat Pack for that matter, were actors, but I assume RAS couldn’t resist the rhyme

I was 100% afraid we were about to learn Cora was an uncomfortably-young undergrad

the musical cue as she reaches into her bag is absolutely as if she’s taking out a gun, and it might as well be! it’s the scariest thing in NYC: an unpublished manuscript

showrunners doing a classic I Love Lucy job partially concealing Vanessa Morgan’s pregnancy via medium close-ups, draping black clothes

Cheryl slowly turning to ask if doesn’t she look okay 10/10 icon

Cheryl’s pins: she has either a tiny spider or maybe a tick

Cheryl’s sheaths: the lacy red thing, amazing

why is Cheryl’s left hand gloved?

Cheryl’s a chaos angel from hell: Cheryl’s going to forge a Rembrandt, which unfortunately means she’s my favorite person on the planet (she does not look happy about doing this)

btw is Nana Rose an Immortal?

please tell me about Toni’s eyelashes

EXTREMELY HAUNTED DOLL?!

“Damn good coffee”: Archie’s earnest “Where are people gonna sit for the bus?” slayed me

fuck YEAH Ghoulies party house! terrible music but really good skull spray paint art

Jug looks LOW lol

Veronica’s blouse + buttons, impeccable

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: Tabitha/Squeaky

the hellscape semi’s red backlighting and its skeleton’s red eyes

I like Linette’s glossy bomber!

the trucker who’s about to kill her can’t also be the Trash Bag Killer….truckers have to stick to too much of a schedule….but he could be Betty’s meandering serial

I loved this episode

NEXT WEEK: Archie brings the FBI down on some people paying their rent :(

#riverdale #i say #commentary #tropes

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xmenshenanigans · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, it's me again, lol!

Well I've been thinking about this pretty a lot and, I don't know if this is your kind of post, but I was wondering who would be like date someone of x-family, but you are an outsider. Like... not of other country or other necessarily human, but... I mean they live in a school and almost don't get out but to stop villains, so they are probably in their own world inside the school. I really hope you got it because I made a mess to explain.

Anyway, how would be to date a member of x-family begin an outsider?

I think I understand!

I did my best to answer, but I may have gone more in depth than you were thinking. I’m not sure exactly who you mean by X-Family, because they’re all one big family. So, I added a lot of people!

NOTE: I did not put Erik and Charles in because they are kind of the parents of X-Family, and you specifically asked for X-Family. I don’t know if the parents would date anyone besides the other.

I don’t really do character x reader stuff, but this was a fun prompt. I hope I cover everything! Tell me what you think—feedback is appreciated! As always, thank you so much for the ask. Keep them coming! They are a lot of fun!

WANDA MAXIMOFF– Wanda likes domesticity. We saw that in WandaVision! I think you would likely meet her at the movie theatre, or a coffee shop. She can be a bit of a sap for things like that. She would be closed off at first, but if you could make her laugh, she would fall pretty fast. After that, it would be drive-in movies with popcorn fights in the front seats, references to sitcoms that the two of you watched together, and other fun dates (playing Twister, making cupcakes together, pretending to be witches and/or a witch and wizard attending Hogwarts together, etc.). Wanda might even show off her magic a bit to make you smile! It would be very two-way. Both of you would get a lot out of the relationship. Charles would likely dote over you if you could make Wanda smile. He would be the parent that constantly asks Wanda how her girlfriend/boyfriend is doing. Erik would probably be skeptical until he saw you making Wanda happy. Pietro would play lots of jokes on you to see how you react—do you take it well, or get mad? That would determine how he views you.

PIETRO MAXIMOFF— Pietro does have a life outside of the mansion. He gets away every moment he can, and because he’s so fast, there’s nothing his parents can do to stop him. You would probably be a friend of his that he met on one of his excursions from the mansion. It would start as just a friendship. But then friendship would probably turn into fun practical jokes that you could both laugh at. Karaoke nights would start to get later and later as the two of you refused to watch the clock and just spent time with one another. Halloween would be a lot of fun—I think Pietro would probably want to do a couple costume. He would refuse to call it that, though. Everyone else would meet you first as a friend, and then the psychics (Jean and Charles) would catch on that there was something more to it. They would make lighthearted fun of the two of you, but because they are both so caring, they would also take you under their wings, so to speak. Erik, on the other hand, may threaten you if you hurt his son. And Wanda would probably judge you.

JEAN GREY— Jean is studying to be a doctor, and I assume she still goes to classes outside of the Xavier Mansion. In order to get her attention, you would need to prove that you don’t like her for looks. She has had a rough love life, and they always seem to want her because she’s pretty. If you could prove to Jean that you like her because she’s funny, CRAZY smart, and fun to be around, then she would start inviting you to things. If you let her make the first move, she would probably like you even more. Dates would include long drives where the two of you could talk about anything and everything, book store dates where you would buy each other books, and the occasional food fight. Jean has a fun side that she rarely shows: she likes to be a kid, too, not just a superhero that studies medicine. She likes to make a mess, dance around, and stay up all night telling scary stories. If you were into that kind of thing, Jean would be a lifelong lover. She’s very heart-to-heart. Erik would probably look at you and nod slowly, because he could see the love in Jean’s eyes. Charles would be the skeptical one here. He would not want to see Jean get hurt, and it would take a few weeks for him to warm up. The other kids would probably adore you—after all, you would be someone totally new that can bring out the good in just about anyone.

RAVEN DARKHOLME— Would You Date Me? That was the song (yes, from the soundtrack of X-Men: First Class) that Raven would think when she met you. You would probably meet her on the battlefield. Raven is attracted to bad boys/girls. You would probably be a villain, and she would be a reformed hero. She would meet you and want to know more. You would not hurt her in battle because you have a softer side, and she would want to understand why. That would lead to her sneaking out of the mansion in the middle of the night to meet with you in various places. The dates would include was-that-fighting-or-flirting and a lot of heart-to-heart talking. Raven needs body positivity, and if you gave it to her, she would be eternally thankful. When you eventually would meet the rest of X-Family, it would be a little awkward... you would have tried to kill everyone in the room multiple times. Charles forgives easily, so he would accept you quickly. Erik has been in your position before, so he would like you, too. The other kids might take some time though!

ORORO MUNROE— Ororo used to be a pickpocket, and I think you would likely meet her by trying to pickpocket her. She would see you and decide that she wants to help you. You would start by meeting up for coffee and lunch where she can help you overcome your desire to steal. After that, you would open up and start to trust her more, but you would also want to spend more time with her. She would meet up with you at any time, whenever you needed her. Dates would include dancing in the rain and Ororo taking you up into the clouds to watch the sun set. She would teach you to garden and give you self-worth until you no longer felt the desire to steal to get by. The others would accept you very easily—if Ororo likes you, you have to be good.

SCOTT SUMMERS— Scott is very traditional. He would probably rescue you during battle—maybe a stone tower was going to fall on you or something, and he blasted it away. He likes to be the hero. After that, the two of you would start meeting up in all the cliche ways. He would take you to the movies or out to food. He would throw pebbles at your window, and send you long texts about how beautiful you are. Scott has gone through many lovers before, but the others would see the way he looks at you through his visor and quickly decide that you’re one of the better ones.

KURT WAGNER— Kurt is super religious, and I suspect you would meet him through church. He would be very shy, but if you were able to look past the blue, two-fingered, tailed exterior, you would find the softest of hearts. He would bring you flowers with small poems attached, and take you on short vacations—teleporting, not traveling—to the beach or to the big city. He would like to see your smile. There would be a lot of surprise gifts, too. If you ever needed him, he would teleport to get there as fast as he could. The others would think it is adorable that you make Kurt smile so much. They would invite you over all the time, for dinner and for game nights.

ROGUE— The poor woman is so touch-starved. You would probably meet her on an occasion that she snuck out, the little rebel. She would like to give you hugs (without skin to skin contact) and run her hand through your hair. The two of you would spray paint walls and have water gun fights as often as you could. She would probably leave you gifts outside your door on a weekly basis. Because she is, well, Rogue, I doubt she would tell the others about you for a couple of months. She would not want to make a scene. She’s also just rebellious like that. When she finally did, though, she would get a talking-to from Charles. Erik would want to meet you immediately, because he would think that you sound awesome. Charles would come around to that view, too. The other kids would probably be a little wary... until they met you.

KITTY PRYDE— NERDS! She is such a geek, and you would probably meet her through robotics or something. It would start as a school girl’s crush, complete with sending one another notes and giving each other looks when no one else is around. Once you got together (she would probably make the first move, but if you beat her to it, she would definitely say yes), she would make bad pick up lines and puns all the time. She would meet up with you to do things like fly drones over restricted areas. When she would take you to meet her family, she would make a big deal out of it. She’d make sure that it was a formal dinner with everyone on their best behavior, and... yeah. The others would find it endearing, and with a good first impression, they would easily accept you into the family.

LOGAN— This one is fun. Logan is a lone wolf. You would likely meet him on a separate mission, possibly in Japan. You would need to chase after him. He would not make the first move. If you chowed him that you really cared for him, then he would start to get protective and try to keep you safe. There would be a lot of late nights drinking and whatnot... I’ll leave the ‘whatnot’ up to your imagination. I mean, this is Logan. But he would love you very deeply. Seldom does Logan fall in love, so when he does, it’s a big deal. That being said, it would probably be a long distance relationship. You would probably not meet the rest of X-Family for a couple of years, until the relationship was solid and he wanted to take you back to the States to meet everyone. It might even be the wedding. If it was the wedding where you finally met the X-Men... expect some laughs. They would tell every embarrassing story about Logan, just to make him flustered.

Holy cow, that was long. I hope you liked it, and I hope it answered your question!!

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johnny-and-dora · 5 years ago

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kiss in the kitchen like it’s a dancefloor

46. “i caught the bouquet” requested by the loml sara @macperalta!!! used a harry styles lyric just for you bb 💐💕

read on ao3 -

Jake wouldn’t call himself a domestic god, per-say.

He supposes that his best efforts to haphazardly fold laundry qualify him for at least a bronze in the boyfriend category, although he anxiously suspects he’s somehow done it wrong. The silverware that he’s laid out all fancy and the pizza he’s shoved in the oven in anticipation of Amy’s arrival should score him some hefty bonus points, though. And the fact that he even attempted to vacuum earlier means he must be eligible for some sort of domesticity award at least.

(The celebratory domestic bagel he ate afterwards may have resulted in him getting crumbs all over the carpet again, but it’s the thought that really counts.)

So maybe he’s not quite god-level yet – really, he’s only doing the bare minimum of what’s expected of a functioning adult/good boyfriend/super sexy roommate. But he’s kept their apartment relatively clean in Amy’s two-day absence. He even remembered to use coasters and where she keeps the fabric softener. In short, he is the champion of total domestic bliss.

Jake grins as he pours two glasses of red wine and fist pumps at not spilling a drop on Amy’s favourite fancy tablecloth, knowing that she’ll be home in a matter of minutes and find a nice, non-takeout candlelit dinner waiting for her. He steps back to admire his handiwork – there’s even a full salad bowl, which he has no intention of eating from – and smiles, content. He’s totally marriage material.

As if on cue, he hears Amy’s key in the lock. She barely has time to kick off her shoes before he’s practically tackling her, revelling in the sweet sound and feel of her laugh buzzing against her lips as she melts into his embrace.

“Hey, babe.” She says sweetly, a knowing and loving glint in her eye. “Did you miss me?”

“Maybe a little.” Amy rolls her eyes, but then her gaze leaves his and lands on their dining room table, just visible over his shoulder. When they unfurl from each other her expression has gone all soft and he can’t help but feel some scattered embers of pride start to flicker and spark, putting his nerves at ease.

(After all this time, he still worries about being too much sometimes – but any fear or doubt usually crumbles when he looks to her and realises he must be doing something right.)

“What’s all this?”

“Dinner.” He says, a little shy, rocking back and forwards on his heels slightly. “I thought you deserved something nice after the drive from Jersey.”

“Oh, this is perfect.” She leans up on the balls of her feet to kiss him – for all his love of her sensible work boots and her strappy heels, he’d hide them all to spend more time savouring their height difference. “Thank you, Jake.”

“It’s no big deal. How was the wedding?” He asks as they move to the kitchen and he hands her a glass of wine. She hums in content, leaning back against the counter.

“It was beautiful. Almost beautiful enough to distract me from my entire extended family asking probing questions about my love life.” She teases, reaching out to playfully poke his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Jake says gingerly, feeling a sting of disappointment at the thought of leaving her at the latest Santiago wedding without a date. He had actually really been looking forward to meeting the rest of Amy’s brothers and a whole swarm of other relatives, but an ill-timed new lead and a crucial stakeout had put a wrench in that plan at the last minute.

“It’s not your fault, babe. You know I would have cancelled if it had been me. Besides, I showed them some cute pictures of us and that shut them up. My aunt thinks you’re adorable.”

“Oh, well I’ll have to give her a call.”

“I also…might have…caught the bouquet.” She says sheepishly, her gaze hooded and apprehensive. It takes a second for his brain to hurry up and realise what that means, and his heart does a funny thing where it trips up on itself. Sort of like mentally slipping on a banana peel.

The whole weird who’s getting married next thing. Which isn’t a problem, actually – if anything it works in his favour, because the plan absolutely is for them to get married. He would propose here and now if he’d found the right ring yet (Gina has been unsurprisingly unhelpful in all four of the jewellery places they’ve visited so far) and if he didn’t have the beginnings of a really dope proposal plan that he really wants to pull off.

“Oh, really?” He has this irrational fear that his voice might have jumped up two octaves, but thankfully it remains even enough, yet still making it very clear that he’s trying to remain as casual as possible.

“Yep. In front of my entire extended family. Who then proceeded to give me embarrassing knowing looks for the rest of the evening.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Oh, it was the best.”

They share a grin, but it’s still hanging in the air. Amy’s still looking at him in that shy, uncertain way, as if she doesn’t already know that she’s the love of his life, and that absolutely won’t do at all.

“Well, you know what that means.”

“…I do?”

“Yep. You better get the binder started now.” His heart is in his mouth as he’s saying it, because it’s not a proposal but it’s a hey I’d love to get married someday soon and that’s only slightly less terrifying. He feels like he should be holding some flowers at least, or else anything else but a dishcloth.

But he’s smiling, smiling, and then her eyes get this glowing shiny quality as she smiles back that just really makes Jake want to kiss her, so he does. And it doesn’t feel scary at all, giving some voice to the visions he’s had of Amy with a ring on her finger he’s been having since late April.

It just makes him feel even more like the champion of domestic bliss when he’s crowding her up against the kitchen island he thoroughly dusted earlier and he knows he wants this forever.

“I may or may not have possibly made some vague wedding-related outlines on the flight home.”

“That’s so hot.”

The oven timer goes off before they can get into any specifics, which is good because the whole of Brooklyn can probably hear Amy’s stomach growling, and because he’s about two seconds away from keeling over with joy if they talk about their hypothetical wedding any longer.

It’s not like he ever really doubted that the feeling wasn’t mutual. But knowing that Amy’s thought about it, that she has a vague outline somewhere just as he has a few plans and ideas hastily typed at 3am on his phone, knowing that she wants to be married to him someday – it’s a warmth, a security, a rare kind of love that he can’t quite put into words.

It doesn’t come up again for the rest of the evening. Instead, they clink their wine glasses together and dance while they do the dishes and make-out on the couch until it’s time for bed. Amy laughs while Jake regales tales of Charles bringing an actual portable cheeseboard to their stakeout, and Jake listens as she fills him in on the latest scandalous Santiago family gossip, gasping in the all the right places.

It’s not until he’s staring up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to crash over him that he even remembers the subject coming up – quietly, tentatively, he listens out in the quiet, still darkness of their bedroom to see if Amy’s still awake.

“Hey, Ames?”

“Mmm?”

“You…you know that I’m all in, right? Like this is it, for me. You and me. I mean you probably already knew that, I just wanted to double-check because of what we talked about before, and I thought-“

“I do know.” She says softly, a soothing balm to his thundering heart. “And you should know that it’s the same for me.”

“Cool.” He says, a little breathless, easily overwhelmed. “I love you. And hey, I promise not to miss our wedding for a stupid stakeout with Charles and his obscure cheeses.”

“That’s all I ask.” She says mock-seriously, shifting closer to him as he laughs and knows that he is truly home whenever she is beside him.

That night, Jake falls asleep with a smile on his face, content with knowing that he may not be a domestic god, but Amy still wants to marry him, so that’s got to count for something.

He’s always valued her opinion more than anyone else’s anyway.

#b99 #b99 fic #peraltiago #jake x amy #brooklyn 99 #happy anniversary to these nerds #god i love them #shut up sian #my writing

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santiagoswagger · 5 years ago

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i've never fallen from quite this high

Amy's birthday falls one month into her very new relationship with Jake, and he promises her he has plans to blow her mind.

Set sometime after “The Funeral.”

In all the years Amy’s known Jake, she’s been witness to the downfall of most of his relationships, and she knows they all tend to follow a similar pattern.

He was disorganized and completely consumed by his work throughout most of them, perpetually forgetting to show up for dinners or drinks because a case always took precedence. He could be selfish, unfiltered with his words and competitive to a fault. Most of the women he dated never seemed to last very long, and if they did, Jake usually found a reason to end things. There were a few exceptions, just as there are with any rule, but Jake was nothing if not consistent. He was a lone wolf, even in his personal life.

But the Jake Peralta that Amy finds herself dating now might as well be a stranger.

In the month since they decided to screw being light and breezy, she’s observed several small changes in him that often have her questioning if he’s the same man who once took her on a date designed for maximum humiliation.

When they make plans, he immediately adds them to the calendar on his phone so he won’t forget. He shares his snacks with her at the movies, even if he rolls his eyes while passing her the popcorn bucket. He takes the time to compliment her whether she’s dressed up for a date night out or wearing her ratty sweats on the couch at home, and genuinely means it either way. He’s still overly competitive, but that only makes her like him more.

She catches herself staring at him from across their adjoined desks, in awe of the person he was and the person he’s becoming. She can’t believe she’s actually falling for her goofy, infuriating partner. It’s scary, just as any big change is for a control freak like Amy, but she’s starting to believe that anything worthwhile begins with a little fear.

Much to Amy’s chagrin, Jake catches her mid-stare and smirks.

“Amy, I know you think I look extremely handsome in my new flannel, but this is a workplace. What would the Captain say?” he asks smugly, keeping his voice quiet enough so their coworkers can’t overhear. It’s something they’ve both perfected over the last month.

She rolls her eyes but can’t stop a traitorous grin from materializing on her face.

“Jake, we both know you took that flannel from the lost and found last week. And I wasn’t doing anything,” she says unconvincingly, burying her head in the open file next to her keyboard. “I was thinking. About my case. Because I’m a detective.”

Jake leans back in his chair and crosses his arms behind his head. “Does this ‘thinking’ have anything to do with a major life event happening this weekend?”

Amy cocks her head to the side. “’Major life event?’ What are you talking about?”

Jake lets out a loud, triumphant laugh, startling Hitchcock and Scully from their afternoon naps a few feet away.

“Amy, please tell me you didn’t forget your own birthday. No, wait, please tell me you did so I can make fun of you.”

Her jaw drops in horror. Amy Santiago, queen of organization, forgot her own birthday. Work had been so crazy the last few weeks and nights spent analyzing her planner were few and far between now that she had someone to go home with after work so something was bound to fall through the cracks. But she would rather let Charles cook dinner for her than let Jake know that.

“Shut up,” she says indignantly. “Just because I don’t obsess over my birthday like some people doesn’t mean I forgot it.”

Jake leans forward with a softer smile than before. It’s fond, almost. “You did, but that’s okay. I’ve got a few things up my sleeve for Saturday.”

“You do?” she says, surprised.

“Mmm-hmm,” he nods, grinning. “Prepare to have your mind blown.”

She laughs. “Okay, I’ll hold you to it.”

As they pack up their desks to leave for the night, Amy allows herself to wonder what Jake could possibly have planned. It’s their first birthday or holiday as a couple, and it’s so early. Their relationship is still so new and exciting, but a birthday is a big commitment. They haven’t even discussed where they see things going or if there’s a future for them. She doesn’t want this birthday to be the thing that scares him away before the relationship really gets off the ground. She’s pretty sure it could be something great if they let it.

Amy wakes up Saturday morning to the smell of fresh coffee wafting into her bedroom. It’s a shock for two reasons: she’s fairly certain she ran out of coffee grounds earlier this week and she knew Jake was scheduled to work an overtime shift today. The rumpled sheets next to her confirm his absence, but they’re still slightly warm to the touch; he must have just brewed her a pot before stumbling out the door.

She takes the time to brush her hair and teeth, and wash and moisturize her face – she refuses to let her morning routine slip, even if it’s her birthday – before walking out into the kitchen. It’s where she finds a full pot of coffee, complete with a new bag of beans from her favorite neighborhood café. It’s annoyingly expensive hipster coffee, and she can’t believe Jake shelled out the cash for it.

She also finds a note written in Jake’s awful chicken scratch on some stationery he must have grabbed from her office. Lucky for him, Amy’s been forced to decipher a few hundred of his case files over the years and can read his appalling handwriting without a problem.

Ames,

Happy Birthday, weirdo! I’m sorry I have to work on the day of your birth but I promise to make it up to you later ;) See you at 5.

Jake

She smiles as she finishes reading before pouring herself a large cup of steaming coffee and taking a long sip. She sighs, and she’s fairly sure it’s not just the coffee warming her from the inside out.

Truthfully, a day to herself is the best birthday present she could have asked for. She spends the day fielding calls and texts from her family and Kylie while also managing to organize her binders alphabetically and catch up on her very full DVR.

But by the time 5 o’clock rolls around, Jake is nowhere to be found and Amy can’t help but be a little disheartened. He had been making much more of an effort to be punctual lately, especially once he discovered what that earned him from Amy, but she supposes he hasn’t completely let his old habits die. She does her best to shrug it off. He probably just got caught up finishing a case, she thinks.

By 5:30, Amy is concerned. By 6, she’s spiraling.

He’s never been this late to meet her before, and never this late without sending an emoji-filled apology text. She, more than most, knows things can get out of hand at the precinct within an instant, but a shadow of a doubt still manages to nestle its way into Amy’s brain as the minutes tick by without word from her boyfriend.

She pours herself a glass of wine and takes a huge gulp. She knows from past observations that a month is usually Jake’s tipping point in a relationship. It’s entirely possible that he’s starting to have second thoughts about turning their friendship into something more. The thought rips through her like lightning.

It’s then that her front door opens and an exhausted looking Jake practically stumbles into the living room carrying two stuffed takeaway bags. His hair is a mess and his flannel is even more rumpled than usual. Her previously racing thoughts are immediately quelled when she sees him.

“Ames, I’m so sorry but I couldn’t find the restaurant and then the order was wrong and then I had to go to a different place and it was a whole thing,” he says in a breathless jumble. She can barely make out individual words.

“Are you mad?” he asks as he catches his breath. He looks genuinely gutted at the mere possibility he’s disappointed her.

She puts her wine glass down on the coffee table and moves to wrap him up in a firm hug. She can feel the tension leave his body at her touch.

“No, I’m not mad,” she mumbles into his shoulder. “But I wish you had texted me so I knew you were alright.”

“Phone died,” he says sheepishly. She pulls away slightly and gently swats his arm.

“I thought I bought you a charger for your desk!”

“I may or may not have been playing Kwazy Cupcakes all day and it totally drained my battery,” he laughs. “The precinct was so boring today, Ames.”

She smirks. “Did you miss me, Peralta?”

“Pshh, no,” he says, eyes darting around the room.

“You did,” she says smugly and he rolls his eyes, visibly grinning. “Now, tell me about this food.”

She pulls away from him to rummage through the plastic bags he’d placed on her dining table when he came home. It smells unbelievably familiar.

“I, um,” he stutters. “Remember when you told me about your favorite birthday parties as a kid? When all of your extended family would come over and it was just a giant party with games and the best Cuban food?”

“Yeah, I do,” she says softly. It had been such a throwaway conversation, late night memories shared while cuddling on his couch in front of the TV after a long shift. She’s genuinely touched that it stayed with him.

“Well, I found a place in Park Slope that sells those cheesy guava pastries your mom used to make you every year on your birthday,” he says, rubbing his arm uncomfortably. “But they messed up the order and I had to drive around to a bunch of Cuban restaurants to find them. That’s why I was so late.”

Maybe it’s the nostalgic smell of the pasteles de queso y guayaba bringing back her childhood, or maybe it’s the look of pure vulnerability on Jake’s face, but Amy can feel the warmth from this morning’s coffee returning tenfold. A lump begins to grow in her throat and she swallows hard to tamp it down.

“I can’t believe you did this,” she says, astonished. “I haven’t had one of these in forever.”

He’s rubbing his arm again, a nervous tick. “I hope they’re right. The woman at the last place I tried didn’t speak English so it was a lot of charades and pointing.”

She laughs. “They’re definitely right. They smell just like I remember.”

She puts the bag down and walks quickly over to where he’s standing in her kitchen doorway. She kisses him delicately, bringing her hand up to cup his cheek, thumb sweeping his jaw as she pulls away. His eyes are half-mast but they’re shining brightly.

“Happy birthday, Amy,” he whispers, moving to gently grab her hand as it pulls away from his face.

She scrunches her nose and smiles. “Thank you. Now, are you ready to try some cheese and guava pastries?”

He wrinkles his nose. “Ugh, no, thank you,” he says vehemently, backing out of her embrace.

She walks closer. “Please? For my birthday? You did say you would make it up to me after working all day.”

He groans. “Fine. But this is the last time I do anything nice for you.”

She smiles. “Deal.”

#b99 #brooklyn nine nine #b99 fic #b99 fanfiction #peraltiago #this is what quarantine has done to me

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ourplaceinthecosmosphff · 4 years ago

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Chapter 8. Louis

'No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.' C. S. Lewis

He never woke up again.

Louis got home from London and met Peter at the town house they shared. He showered and they talked about the last couple of days. Louis sat atop the kitchen table telling him all about our fight and reconciliation and what we had done on tour, while Peter cooked salmon for them to have for dinner. The food was almost ready when Louis jumped from the table to get more wine and almost immediately fell to the floor, unconscious. Peter was quick on his feet. It took him barely ten seconds to get Louis’ security officers to come help. They drove him to the hospital themselves.

There are a lot of contingency plans for emergencies such as these; In Louis’ case, when he moved into town we established a plan with a local private hospital where he could be received as privately as possible should he need it. I‌ had the same thing in America when I was at ‌University, and even today in Bellpont where I lived. It was the sort of thing we knew about in the back of our minds, it was briefly explained to us on briefings, and we then went on with our lives, forgetting it immediately after, hoping we would never need it.

Louis hadn’t even been admitted to the hospital when Charles and Auguste received the alert from our Security Headquarters and ran to inform my parents. With one look, they knew what to do. Auguste was sent to make preparations for a private plane to take my parents to Scotland as fast as possible; Charles started making calls and arrangements so that this trip could be as swift and secretive as necessary; my father ran upstairs to pack.

I wanted to make a remark about how ironic it was that we had made a point to take the train to Britain on tour for the environmental impact and to highlight the travel options, and now they were taking a jet, but even my love for Environmental Law wasn’t big enough to ignore the facts, and the fact was it was not the time.

My mother lingered before rushing off to pack, holding on to my shoulders.

“I’m sure it’s nothing!” She said, kindly. I nodded. “Maggie, I‌ know you have work in the morning, could you possibly drive home tomorrow instead of tonight? Your sister goes back to boarding school tomorrow morning and-”

“You don’t want her to be alone. Yes, of course. I’ll just leave in the morning.”

She smiled and rushed off as well; in the confusion, the dogs must have followed someone out of the room, and the door was closed, so I found myself alone in my father’s suddenly very quiet office.‌ I‌ took a seat and a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts.

When I looked at my phone, Harry had texted, but I couldn’t bring myself to focus on him now. So instead I‌ texted my brother.

‘are you ok??? mom and dad are leaving now. They’ll be there soon, text me as soon as you get this’

While I watched the message, quietly hoping it would be viewed and replied as I did, I got a new text, from Peter.

‘Hey Maggie, I have L’s phone, saw you texted. I just got to the waiting room, he’s with the doctors. I’ll let you know if I have any news.’

Completely forgetting everything else, I‌ talked to Peter for the next several minutes, getting all the information I could, which was how I‌ learned about the salmon and the wine and Louis falling unconscious from the kitchen table.

I only realized I had spent too long talking to Peter in my father’s office when the door opened and Cassidy, one of the house maid staffers, came to tell me my parents were leaving and wondered where I was; so I ran out, down the stairs and through the main hall towards the entrance atrium and down the further stairs to the same entrance I had come in from with my father.

Lourdes was there already, looking downcast, hugging our mother. Our father was on the phone with someone, while a staffer loaded their luggage into the black-tinted-windows SUV (no one would be expecting the King and Queen to be in such a car, which was usually used by staffers only).

We gave them a quick hug goodbye, and they were off. Lourdes was looking sadder by the second, so‌ I‌ tried to pretend an eye-roll was just me being heavily interested in the renascence carvings in the ceiling.

“Well, let’s go back inside.”

“What do you think happened?” She asked, teary, following me back up the stairs.

I‌ told Lourdes what I had learned from Peter in the most casual tone I‌ could, reminding myself to be patient with her. She was a kid, and I suppose this was scary. Especially with the lack of information.

“It won’t do much to be dramatic about it”, I told her. “They’ll call soon, let’s just try to distract ourselves.”

With mom gone, we didn’t have to keep the dinner plans she had made, but I knew she would ask as soon as this thing was over, so I marched Lourdes to the kitchen and we prepared dinner as well as we could. Harry had to leave for a conference call, but by the time I read this message he had already left and I felt terrible for having stopped replying so suddenly. I tried to text him a short and low on information text, but I couldn’t come up with one without a strange crampy feeling on my throat.

So I had Lou chop up some vegetables for us to roast in the oven and eat with the fillets of salmon I made on a frying pan while I thought of how to get back into the texting horse with Harry. He asked me out! I wanted to talk more about it. On his last message before he had to leave he asked what was my favorite type of food, and if I had suggestions of where we could go in Bellpont, and as much as I wanted to think about that, there was too much to handle in my own kitchen.

I had to stop Lourdes from sharing her concern - and therefore the facts - with her friends.

“They can’t know he’s in the hospital! It might leak to the public or press and it’ll generate panic!”

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t text anymore.

It was only after dinner, when Lourdes was busy taking out the plates, that I checked my phone and realized Peter had texted to let me know my parents had arrived at the hospital in Scotland. I tried calling them, but the call went unanswered. I texted them, but nothing happened, and I didn’t want to bother Peter asking for more information than he had. I was sure he would tell me more as soon as he could.

So instead I scrolled through my texts conversations, wanting to talk to someone, but unable to. I had to follow the advice I gave Lourdes, after all.

A loud sigh alerted me that Lourdes had finished loading the dishwasher, and was now staring at it with a glossy, worried look in her eyes.

So I texted our brother. ‘I will seriously kick your ass when I see you again’

I wanted to say something to Lourdes, but I had nothing. I wanted to text Harry, but I also didn’t know what to say. Not telling him something this big felt… wrong. So I said nothing.

I just closed the messaging app and put my phone in my pocket. “Let’s go for a walk.” I told Lourdes. “For the dogs.”

She smiled, and we went upstairs to grab the leashes and the babies.

The garden to the south of the Palace was private; it was only open to the public for a couple of months in the summer when we left for the beach, and the palace did guided tours on a few selected wings. It was also not visible from anywhere outside the Palace grounds, surrounded by ivy-covered high walls, so it assured us a large, open space, and privacy. As the palace was situated next to a large national park, with mountains and hiking trails, most of its vegetation was just… our lawn.

The dogs loved it. We kept them on leashes through the manicured garden; like much of our architecture, it had been modeled after Versailles, an award-winning botanical creation they would be far too delighted in running through. Beyond the garden there was a trail that led to a small forest, and there we were able to let the boys roam free. The youngest two ran towards the trees as soon as they could, but Heathy continued strutting happily only a step or two ahead of us.

“They should have called by now.”

I forced myself to roll my eyes, so she’d see how ridiculous her statement was.

“They had a long day, they must be tired. Especially dad, he just left London this morning and now is back in Scotland. Give them time.”

“But what if it’s bad?!”

“He was probably just dehydrated or anemic.” I‌ justified. “Relax, we’ll never let him live this down.”

Even as I said this in as much of a laid back tone as I‌ could, I checked my phone once more, and there were no new texts from Peter, my parents or Louis.‌ There was, however, two new ones from Harry.

‘Just got back, sorry I‌ had to dash earlier!‌ Hope we get to talk some more when you’re free’

‘I’m googling nice private places for our date. Do you like italian food?’

We made our way uphill. I watched the dogs to make sure they would poop, and cleaned after them with plastic bags. We sat atop the hill and watched the lights in the palace and the city ahead. It was a starry night, still, warm and not too windy. It was the last warm night of October. I asked Lourdes to tell me about her friend Channel getting her first boyfriend, and for the next several minutes she sounded like she was back to her old, unpreoccupied self.

I took deep breaths as I listened, staring at the sky, letting myself believe the words I had told her. He was probably just anemic. It was going to be okay. We were all going to feel so silly for worrying as soon as this was over. It was a nice night.

“Has Harry said anything else?”

I sighed, unblocking my phone. I showed her his last texts in lieu of explaining.

“Why aren’t you texting him back?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You could start with answering his question. You love italian food.”

“It’s… not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t… know. It feels like lying.”

She sighed, heavily. “Just say you’re sorry you went MIA, you got stuck babysitting your sister, and that you love italian food, but have to go now and hope you can talk more later. And then say goodnight and maybe wish him good dreams with a winky emoji.”

“...You’re relentless.”

“Do you want me to write it for you?”

“Shut up.”

We walked back. The dogs - and me - tired. Lourdes ready to keep texting her friends. I forced her to finish packing, and to have a shower, and finally to go to bed at a reasonable hour, which to me was just before midnight. Before I left her room, I realized she was using a body wash that smelled familiar. Something from L’Occitane, something citric. I was already grabbing the bottle from her when I realized it was Harry; this reminded me of Harry’s smell. I didn’t tell Lourdes this, but she called me weird anyway. I said goodnight and went to have a shower of my own.

Right before I stepped into the shower, I told myself to stop being ridiculous and typed a reply to Harry:

‘So sorry I disappeared, got stuck babysitting. I love italian! Have a good night, talk later!’

It felt… wrong. Surely I could trust him with a secret like this? Him, of all people… But I couldn’t. So I threw the phone in my bed and had a long, relaxing shower. When I got out, wrapped in a towel, I ran to my bed, dropping all pretenses, and picked up my phone hurriedly, and feeling rather pathetic, but there was no response from Harry. So I placed it in the night table, and went back to the closet to put on clothes, apply lotion and do my skin care routine, all while trying not to think too much about it.

Then, my phone rang. I ran back into the room in a fury, grabbed the phone and fell to the bed, trying not to smile like an idiot as I said, “hello?!”

“Maggie, it’s mom.”

And then I wanted nothing more than to go back uphill, lay on my back and watch the city lights under the stars to the sound of my blabbering sister and over-excited, running dogs.

“It’s not a problem, mom!‌ I’ll take care of everything, don’t worry.”

——

The first thing I wanted to do was text Harry. If I‌ had, I‌ would have written:

‘sorry I‌ disappeared today, my brother collapsed at home and my parents flew out to check up on him and I was freaking out but had to keep my little sister from telling the whole country because it could generate a panic which is the same reason I couldnt tell you, but the truth is this last weekend and speaking with you today has left me giddy with excitement and I‌ cant wait for our date!’

Instead, I took a deep breath, turned off my phone, and went to feed the dogs. My coworker Larissa had sent over a few contracts for me to help her with, so I sat down in bed to go over them in my laptop, but I‌ couldn’t focus. Next thing I knew, my eyes were shutting of their own accord and I hadn’t even made it three pages.

I crashed and slept terribly all night. I‌ kept thinking I‌ heard my parents getting home and woke up full of anxiety, wanting to run towards them and ask a million questions. Eventually, at almost five, I was so sure I had heard something that I‌ walked out, as silent as possible not to disturb the dogs, and made my way to Louis’ room. By the time I was at his door I felt silly; Of course no one was home. Of course I heard nothing. This place is too big, anyway. I wouldn’t even be able to.

When I opened the door, though, Lourdes was there. She’d slept in his bed, apparently.

“Dramatic.” I‌ rolled my eyes, exhausted, but even as I‌ did I‌ was forced to admit to myself I‌ knew exactly what she was feeling.

In the following hour, I‌ changed out of my pajamas, put on some makeup, and went back to Louis’ room at the time I‌ knew her alarm was set for. I got there just in time to catch her hitting the snooze button.

“Hey.”

“His bed is better than mine.” She justified, blushing.

“Mom called.”

She sat up, forcefully wiping her eyes.

“What did she say?!”

As it turns out, Louis’ condition was a little more serious than we had previously thought. As I tried to calmly explain it to Lourdes, as she furiously and breathlessly asked, I‌ didn’t know what that meant exactly. All mom had said was he was still unconscious and they needed a second opinion, and they were getting one in Savoy, both from our own doctors, who knew Louis since he’d been born, specialists from all over the country, as well as famous doctors from around the world who were already being flown in. So they were air-ambulancing him home as fast as possible so he could be in the country by the time the press and public was informed.

“That means it’s something bad.” Lourdes decided.

“I forget, what school did you get your medical degree in again?”

She rolled her eyes, and I could never tell her, but I had been wrestling the same thought.

That morning, a monday in late October, I called work and informed them I would be extending my leave for another couple of days. I was essentially using all my vacation days, but I‌ was more concerned with going to work and attracting more paparazzi than usual to the building’s entrance and making my coworkers hate me.

It was the same reason mom had me call Lourde’s boarding school and inform her dean she would be home that week for personal issues. The school had been briefed on what to do in this situation; her teachers would email her the workload, and she would email back questions. Tutors were available for online sessions should she need them.

The staff served us breakfast in the usual tea room we used for small meals, but without the others the room felt bigger and, at the same time, I felt more claustrophobic. So when Lourdes asked for the third time if we could just meet them in the hospital, I‌ gave up, and said yes.

When we arrived at the biggest hospital in the country, St. Agnes Royal, they had only recently arrived as well. After making sure Louis was stable, the Savoyen doctors took him for tests, and my parents sat in the two seat couch in his room, looking tired.

For the next several hours, a lot happened very fast, and almost at the same time. First, our mother had a lot to say about us arriving unexpectedly, a lot of questions regarding the instructions she had left me, and some choice words for Lourdes who should be home doing the homework her teachers hadn’t even had time to send yet.

My father sat in a chair in the bathroom - where mom’s words didn’t carry - to call the Prime Minister from a secure line and inform him of the situation. After him, he called the senator who led the King’s Council to inform him and ask that he inform the rest of his council members. He then called his siblings, and by the time he was done, mom was still going on about how important it is for us to be discreet at times of emergency, since one word of the situation at the wrong time and the country could think we were in a crisis.

“This is a crisis!��‌ Lourdes whined. “Louis could have died!”

“You don’t even know what happened!” I‌ told her.

“Yeah, because no one will tell me!”

“Alright!”‌ Mom sighed, sitting back in the couch, back straight as an arrow, legs crossed at the ankles, as if she was at work. “Apparently, your brother had a brain aneurysm.”

Lourdes immediately started googling on her phone. I‌ sat down besides my mother, my shoulder brushing hers in a supportive gesture.

“Well… is he… what’s next?”

“A brain aneurysm can leak or rupture, causing bleeding into the brain; hemorrhagic stroke”, Lourdes read, her voice becoming more strangled with each word. “A ruptured aneurysm quickly becomes life-threatening! And requires prompt medical treatment!”

“Which your brother had.” Mom told her, on a low, controlled tone, hands clasping each other in her lap tightly.

“Thank God for Peter.” Father said pacing around the room after his staff had left to give us a moment alone.

“Where is he, by the way?”

“Scotland.” Mom told me. “Poor thing stayed in the hospital most of the night with us, refused to leave until we did for the airport. Remind me to send him a thank you card.”

I‌ shook my head. “He didn’t want to come with you?!”

“Darling, we couldn’t possibly expect him to. He’s done enough, and he has classes.”

“He-!”, I‌ stopped myself, taking a deep breath, “He’s Louis’ friend, it happened in front of him! Maybe he wanted to come and be with him, you should have asked.”

My mother passed an arm around me. “We imposed enough on him. We’ll let him know when we have news.”

“This says severe leaked aneurysms can be fatal!”‌ Lourdes told us, “Do you know if his leaked? Did Peter say if he’d been having headaches before it happened? That could indicate-”

Mom interrupted, “Honey, why don’t we wait to see what the doctors say?”

“But what did the Scottish doctors say?!”

“That’s enough googling for today, Lourdes-Abigail.” Dad told her, grabbing her phone and giving her a tight hug.

It was lucky she didn’t see the worried look our parents exchanged, or she might convince herself they were hiding something.

The next thing that happened was the much dreaded moment the press was informed. An announcement was sent via email in the early morning to the main media vehicles of the country. It read:

‘From the desk of His Majesty, King Philippe IV of Savoy

In the late hours of last night, His Royal Highness Crown Prince Louis-Adolphe was admitted to Western General Hospital in Edinburgh, Scotland, where he was diagnosed with signs of an aneurysm.

The Crown Prince was airlifted to Savoy’s St. Agnes Royal Hospital where he is being cared for by a team of specialists. His current condition is stable, and he is undergoing tests.

Their Majesties, the King and Queen, Princess Marie-Margueritte and Princess Lourdes-Abigail, are in the hospital with His Royal Highness.

More updates will be given when appropriate.’

The key word there was ‘stable‘. Dad had been in a long debate with his staff over whether they should announce the particulars of his coma, or the location of the aneurysm, all things they knew would be asked eventually. They chose, however, to delay the conversation as long as possible. Was Louis’ condition serious? Yes. But it was also stable. And that put a good enough spin on reality.

After what felt like an eternity, the incredibly big team of specialists called my parents for a meeting with the hospital’s chief of surgery and director, in a conference room down the hall, where they stayed for the next two hours. In that time, I tried to take Lourdes’ mind off it by going on a stroll around the hospital, but all we did was get some food from the cafeteria and go back to his room, since we felt we were being stared at by everyone around us.

When we did return, Louis was there, being tucked in by a nurse.

He seemed calm, almost as if he was merely asleep, but too distressed to actually look it. Lourdes looked scared to approach, so I‌ dragged a large armchair to sit closer to his bed, and she eventually came by and sat on one of its arms.

Louis’ chief security officer, Stevens, was standing in the corner of the room, watching over him with tired eyes.

“How did Peter look?”‌ I asked him, “When you guys left?”

“He seemed…” He shrugged, apologetic, “worried.”

We exchanged a look of understanding, and he looked down, seeming somewhat disappointed. Stevens had been in my brother’s protection detail for the better part of the last decade.

“Thank you.”‌ I‌ told him.‌ “We heard your team got him to the hospital really fast.”

He stared at my brother in bed. “I wish we’d been faster. Maybe he’d be awake by now.”

Lourdes looked at him. “But he’ll wake up. Right?‌ He’ll wake up eventually.”

It was unfair to ask Stevens to have to deal with her at her most dramatic/sensitive, so I asked him to go check on the paparazzi outside, to give him an excuse to leave.

“He’ll wake up eventually.”‌ I‌ told my sister, as calm as I‌ could.

We let a few minutes pass in silence as we looked at our brother. He had dad’s nose and jaw line, mom’s eyes, the same eyes I saw in the mirror, the same ones fighting tears in the girl next to me.

"They've been in that meeting for a long time." Lourdes whispered.

“Yeah… they, they probably wanna be thorough.”

“Maggie?”

“Yeah?”

“I‌ read brain aneurysms can cause brain damage.”

I sighed. “I‌ wish you would just… stop this. Yes, there’s a million bad possibilities. There’s also a million good ones. Why don’t you think about those?”

“I‌ can’t help it! Okay? I‌ would love to!‌ But I can’t help it! I know it’s probably silly, and he’ll probably wake up soon, and you’ll both mock me forever for it, but right now all I can think about is the last time I talked to him!”

“You have to calm yourself-”

“It was two months ago, in person! Four days on Skype, I don’t think texts count, do they?”

“Lourdes, I‌ promise-”

But I‌ could not make her a promise I would never be able to keep, as it was then that my parents came back, and asked to have the room. Even though we tried asking for news before leaving, they were relentless, so I‌ held Lourdes’ hand and pulled her out into the hallway, where we walked towards the opposing wall and she promptly sat on the floor.

“They could have just told us if he’ll be okay or not.”

“I’m sure they’ll let us know as soon as they can.”

“They could, right now. Would have taken them one second. Four words. He. Will. Be. Ok. Done.”

I sighed, and sat beside her, legs crossed in front of me. At times like this I wish Louis could help me navigate how to keep her from freaking out. He’d know what to do.

I grabbed my phone from my purse, it was still turned off, and considered if I really wanted to turn it back on. I wanted to talk to Peter, but I‌ knew there would be a lot more to deal with if I‌ did.

“What else did Harry say?”‌

I sighed again, feeling my chest tighten. That was the other element I had been trying not to think about. He must have heard by then what happened to Louis. Would he be upset I didn’t tell him? Would he cancel our date?

I‌ had to explain. Surely, he of all people would understand the need for secrecy. I’m sure he would have dealt with the same rules if this had happened to his family. He is the one guy in the world who had to understand.

I reminded myself of this as I‌ tried to gather enough courage to turn on my phone. Meanwhile, Lourdes crossed her arms over her knees, and her head on her arms.

"They're probably just… you know, discussing whatever the doctors told them. Processing.“

She ignored me, and started biting her nails.

I‌ sighed, replaying her words from inside the room. What was my last memory with my brother? Something other than his nagging about texting Harry? I‌ tried to remember, but all I could think of now was of our stupid, ridiculous fight in London.

I was unsure of how much time passed, but when the door to Louis’ room opened, it was when my parents secretaries all walked in, together, with purpose.

“We should go in.”‌ Lourdes said, voicing my own thoughts.

“We would have been called if we were supposed to go in.”

“They weren’t called!”

“Dad must have called them on the phone to avoid walking out to find them.”

“That’s not fair!‌ We deserve to know whatever is going on!‌ He is our brother!”

“They… they are probably just informing their secretaries of whatever the specialists told them," I told her, "And processing it together, making decisions..."

"What decisions?"

"Well, to better deal with this… to make decisions into actions." I said, matter-of-factly. "They'll call us in when they're ready for us."

"Maggie." She started, in a whiny voice again. "What if it's bad?"

I returned my phone to my purse, and scootched in closer to her, "Then we'll deal with it."

She looked at me. "How?!"

I hadn’t noticed until now, but her eyes were slightly red, swollen, her lips, trembly. She was so ready to cry. She was ready for bad news. She was expecting it as if it was the only possible outcome.

"Life is not that dramatic, Lou." I said, passing an arm around her shoulders. "He'll be alright. We'll bring him home, we’ll take care of him, help him stay on top of his studies so he doesn’t have to delay graduation! We'll adapt. Learn. It'll be-"

The door opened, and out walked, bleak and somber, Gustave and Montennon, accompanied by Madaleign Qadir, our mother’s secretary. They looked at us - no, at me - for half a second before diverting their eyes.

Two steps down the hallway from us, they stopped, exchanged a few whispered words, and Montennon walked away, already calling someone on the phone. Qadir called another of mom’s staffers and they walked to the opposing end of the hall.

Gustave, however, walked towards us, hands in his back, and smiled, politely, if a little stiffly.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked us, though decidedly looking at me.

Lourdes looked at me.

"We're fine." I lied.

“Are my p-”, Lourdes stopped herself, “the King and Queen busy?”

He took in a deep breath before answering, unsure. "They are almost ready for you."

"What are they doing?" She asked.

"Lourdes." I warned.

"What?" She returned. "He asked if he could do anything. He could tell us what's going on. What did the doctors say?"

Gustave looked down, for a long time he didn't say anything. Then he gulped. Just as I was starting to think my sister was right to worry, the door to our brother’s room opened again.

It was my father this time, and though we were hoping for a sign of good news, the sight that greeted us was his reddened eyes, unkempt hair, fallen shoulders. Everything he wasn’t when he was ‘on’, when he had to be the strong, unmoving King of Savoy.

My sister got up, quickly, and followed him into the room. I followed, at my own pace; Gustave offered me his hand to pull me up on my feet. As I crossed the hall, he bowed his head. There was something very different there, something much more… reverent about the way he was looking at me. Just as I‌ got to the door, with a painful knot on my throat, a quick look into the room showed me all I never wanted to see.

My father held a shaking Lourdes tightly to his chest, a lonesome tear strolling down his cheek. Besides Louis’ bed, my mother was brushing his hair gently. I‌ looked back at Gustave before closing the door behind me, and realized when he looked at me, he wasn’t seeing me anymore.

He was seeing his future Queen.

--- ---- ---

[A/N: I know, I know. This sucks. I KNOW. It.............gets worse before it gets better. THANK YOU FOR READING <3 let me know what you think??? just click here to leave a message with your thoughts! Or click like on this chapter! Next week: reactions]

#Princeharryff #prince harry fanfic #prince harry fanfiction #princeharryfanfiction #Princeharryfanfic #prince harry #brf #modern royalty au #modern royalty fanfic #fanfiction #OPITCphff #chapters

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avastyetwats · 6 months ago

Note

“ Just a minute!! “ Charles shouted to the doorway of his apartment to the knocking. Today had been a hell of a day, and he hoped his boyfriend wasn’t going to be too upset about the fact he was having to cancel their date last minute. James was a busy man, he scheduled time for the singer and vice versa, so he just felt bad about it. But it wasn’t like he had a choice.

Louder knocking.

“ Okay! Okay! “ Charles attempted to juggle the two little bundles of pink he had in his massive arms, moving finally to the door. He had to shift with one arm full to even open it, and there Flint would be met with his boyfriend, a baby girl dressed in pink in each arm. And one of them was a bit fussy. He was bouncing them both on his hips, trying to coo them into calming down a little. He looked at him helplessly.

“ James, I am so sorry to have to do this last minute but I have to cancel our date. My sister flew into England. It’s her first time over and of course she doesn’t want to visit her brother, SHE wants to have fun on vacation. “ He rolled his eyes, one girl crying a bit and Charles turned his attention to her, cooing again and kissing the top of her head. “ It’s okay, Lily.. shhh.. “ She gurgled a little. Her sister Ellie buried her head into Charles’ tank top clad chest, hiding her face from the man at the door. “ She kinda just dumped them both on me. But I do love my nieces.. “ He smiled faintly.

“ I understand if you’re mad, but do you wanna come in at all? I just haven’t seen you in affection days. And you look so hot tonight. “ He really did, the singer looking him up and down. He was just praying he wouldn’t storm off and be pissed.

That couldn't have been a child's cry he just heard. Absolutely not. He was simply hearing things... somehow. Hearing the voice of a child coming from behind that door. Why in the hell would there be children in there? Charles didn't mention anything about having kids... unless he was hiding it from him, waiting for the right time to tell him... oh, fuck. Was he a father!? No... no, Charles would've mentioned that at some point into their month long relationship. Quite something that one cry of a child - that he simply could have misheard - brings up so many questions. It makes him panic which he knows is ridiculous because Charles does not have...

"Children..." The word slips out of his mouth when he sees the two girls, one on each arm. They're so small compared to him... even smaller than his arms. Bouncing them, trying to calm the fussy one while the other hid her head in his chest after seeing James. Was he that scary? He already knew the answer to that and this child just confirmed it. But why was Charles holding two children and why did he look so damn good doing it? He was... swoon-worthy in this moment. But why? And why on a night that they were supposed to go out? Did he forget about it? Or did he forget it was his night to watch his children that James knew nothing about?

"You have... children..." He clears his throat. "Had no idea I was dating a father.." He mutters, unsure what to even say about this, but then Charles is quick to respond and holy fuck, does James not feel really fucking embarrassed. So they're not his kids. They're his sisters'. "Oh, thank fuck." His eyes widen when he realizes he just cursed in front of the children. "Shit, I mean... fuck... no... God." Oh, he was so bad at this. Children. Two of them. "It's uh... quite alright. Um, probably best not to, uh, go out then tonight, huh?" Captain-fucking-obvious, he was. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling a little awkward and embarrassed with himself, especially standing there holding a bouquet of flowers he knew were Charles's favorite. "These, uh, these are yours." He holds them out to him, only to stupidly realize his fucking hands were full. But before he can take it back, the older little girl reaches out to take them from him and James's brows furrow. "Oh, uh... alright. There you are..." Awkward chuckle and smile which makes the girl hide again and so James's smile quickly fades.

"Nieces. Right. Not your daughters." He reminds himself with another awkward chuckle before he shakes his head. "I'm not mad. At all, actually. You... clearly didn't expect it. Not your fault at all." He felt bad for Charles, but then again, he said he loved his nieces so this probably wasn't that terrible for him, if at all. He slowly steps inside following the invite. "I don't want to intrude, Charles. You clearly seem quite busy and I'm sure you want to spend time with them and--" The smallest little girl drops her stuffed animal, then, and James is quick to pick it up. "Here you are." He smiles and the girl hides her face earning a sigh from James. "Christ, am I really that terrifying, Charles? You sure you even want me here?" He huffs, fiddling with the little stuffed animal in his hands now as he follows him further inside. @fornassau

#this is so funny #james is so awkward i'm dying xDD #c; james flint #fornassau

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george-mackay-macfine · 5 years ago

Text

Dear Diary prt. 2

A/N I have like five chapters of this written, maybe more. People requested for the second part of it. Please let this entertain you while my brain forgets to write filthy smut.

Word Count: 2,691

July 26th 2011,

And that was it, The night I lost my first boyfriend, the night I lost my best friend and most importantly my exciting night with George MacKay.

Taylor drove George, Mason and I to McDonald's where we all pigged out on French fries and Vodka laced milkshakes until they kicked us out at one o’clock. Taylor then insisted that they drive me home, no matter how much I insisted I could walk.

George walked me to my front door, kissed my forehead and thanked me for the night’s entertainment and reminded me that Julian McDonald was nothing, and Sarah was nothing more than a stalker.

That was ten days ago, He hadn’t asked for my number, he hadn’t added me on Facebook and he most certainly hadn’t shown up at my front door. No matter how much I wished he would. I was stupid for even thinking he would. It was dumb, I know but we connected on that roof, or at least I thought we had.

Who knows maybe he had some rule about waiting more than ten days.

July 30th 2011,

Dear Diary,

This is now a sad sob story. I’m infatuated with a boy I’d spent less than twelve hours with, and it was worse than everyone's current obsession with Justin Bieber.

August 4th 2011,

Dear future Y/N,

Today is the day you found out you got into Edinburgh. Congratulations.

Love, 2011 Y/N.

P.S You’re way still in obsessed with George.

September 11th 2011,

Dear Diary,

I think instead of referring to this as you as ‘Diary’ I think I’ll start to open with ‘Dear Future Y/N’ since that’s who this all for. The future Y/N whose probably lost her marbles over worrying about George MacKay and if anything he’d said to her on that day in July meant anything to him like it did to us, past and present Y/N. (And probably future) anyway,

I guess I should apologise to future Y/N for leaving so long between each entry. I suck at this thing… My bad, for your sake I hope I get better at this.

But today at least I’m doing something worth remembering. I’m finally moving away from home and spreading my wings, where to you may ask? Well, future Y/N whose lost her marbles, at one point you were smart enough to get into University. Not just any University. As previously mentioned, in my ‘many’ entries (That was sarcasm by the way, just in case you forget It when you get old) I got into Edinburgh University, and today I was officially moving in.

I walk through the apartment with a huge smile on my face.

There are three bedrooms one shares no walls and is the largest of the three, the other two shares one wall. A small slightly outdated bathroom separated the lone bedroom and the living room, offering some semblance of peace for whoever claimed it. The apartment was finished with a combined living/dining area with a door leading out onto a smallish balcony and a decent-sized kitchen.

The furniture looked on the newer side. There were some suspicious stains on the settee, and the carpet which to me looked like red wine, but from what I could tell none of our neighbours seemed too loud, nor danced naked on their balcony, not that it wouldn’t be interesting to watch if they did.

My roommates hadn’t arrived yet when mum, dad and I lugged all my luggage in. Mum and Dad couldn’t stay long once they’d dropped me off, enough to remind me to eat vegetables and take my studies seriously before Dad decided it was time for them to head on home, I didn’t really mind, the sooner they left the sooner I got used to being without them. A big change for someone who’d lived at home all their lives but I was excited. I had a flat one-thirds to myself, no parents looking over my shoulder, watching how many vegetables I ate at dinner, how much red wine I tried to sneak when they’d let me have a glass.

The first of my two roommates to arrive was Dean Charles Chapman, He was on the taller side, attractive. He’d have no problem finding people to entertain him in his downtime.

“Y/N right?” Dean smiled holding his hand out, I shook it quickly nodding my head. “You the first one here?”

“Yeah, just me.” Dean nodded walking over to the window that overlooked our small balcony. “It’s a pretty nice place.” Dean turned, nodding his head.

“Oh yeah.” He scoffed. “My brother attended University here, graduated a year ago. He never had a place this nice.” He walked towards the rooms. “You pick a room yet?” I shook my head. “Why not?”

“Didn’t seem fair.” Dean smiled, he was handsome, you could clearly see how he’d be able to charm a jury even if his client was guilty as sin.

“Well, pick a room. First in best-dressed.” He pushed one of my bags at me. “I’ll help you move your stuff in.” He picked up another as I led him towards the biggest room, the one with no shared walls. “Makes sense for you to have the biggest room, you are the only girl.” Wait, what?

“There’s no other girl?” I stopped turning to Dean. “How do you know that? Harry could also be a girls name.” Dean laughed putting down what he was carrying on the double bed.

“His name is Harry Styles, I played him in football through High School and he is most definitely a guy.”

“So I’m going to be the only girl in a flat full of guys, where you’ll bring other girls home and have loud sex with them all night long…”

“Is that what you think guys do?” Dean was clearly amused by me.

“Isn’t it?” He thinks a minute before he shrugs, conceding before holding his hand over his heart.

“I promise you Y/N, I won’t bring home and loud girls, and you’ll never have to pretend to be my girlfriend to get rid of them in the morning.” He smiled, taking his hand down before shrugging his shoulders. “Unless you want to.”

“I think I’ll pass for now on that chore… But I’ll ah, I’ll keep it in mind Dean.”

“Suit yourself, but if you do need help getting rid of any of your… conquests…”

“Never an appropriate term.”

“I’m sure Harry and I can deal with them,” Dean smirked ignoring me.

“You don’t have to worry about that Dean.” He nodded his head as if he understood where I was going with this.

“You got a boyfriend then?” I shook my head.

“No, I’m actually practising being a nun.” I smiled sweetly. Dean’s mouth dropped open a little, he looked me up and down as I began to unpack my bags.

“You’re a nun?” I nodded my head again. “But you don’t look like a nun.”

“And what does a nun look like Dean? Huh?” I laughed.

“Well, they’re meant to be all scary looking, you know like in the movies.” He sat down on my bed, if I were, to be honest, he looks rather traumatised. “I can’t believe my flatmate is a nun.”

“I’m messing with you, Dean.” I laughed unable to keep a straight face any longer. “I just don’t think I’ll really have time to sleep around this year.”

“So first you’re a nun, and now you sleep around?”

“No, not like that…”

“So which are you? A nun, or a slag?”

“I’m neither. I’m just saying my course work is going to be full-on, I won’t have time to see anyone…”

“Y/N, if you think I’m going to put up with your booty calls dragging in and out of here, all night long…”

“I’ve never had a booty call because I’ve never had sex before.” That stopped Dean in his tracks, It was as if someone had thrown cold water all over his body.

“You’re a virgin?”

“Is that all your brain picked up on?” I rolled my eyes, picking my laptop out of the bag and sitting it on the desk.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… Don’t take this the wrong way either, but you’re not ugly.”

“Thanks, Dean.”

“I mean it, you’ve got great tits, and you’ve got nice eyes I guess.”

“My physical appearance is not the reason I’ve not had sex.”

“Then what is?”

“That I haven’t found a boy I like enough to let them see me naked.” Dean sat down on the bed, again and continued to watch me for a moment.

“You know there is a difference between having sex and seeing someone naked, Y/N.” I stopped fiddling with my pink shirt and looked up at him. “Put it this way, seeing someone naked can be seen as an intimate thing, whereas having sex with someone can be totally casual. Most times there’s no need to get completely undressed.” He crossed one leg over the other, he was really ready to dive in on his theory. “The number of girls I’ve had a one night stand with, or a supply closet quickie with that haven’t been completely naked it’d astound you.” He shook his head, smirking in self-satisfaction. Obviously, some happy memories were filling his head. “Sorry, but what I mean is you can have sex without someone seeing you naked…”

“Okay, let’s rephrase then. I have yet to find someone I like enough to let them put their penis in me.” I smiled sweetly. “Better?”

“And this is exactly the first conversation I thought I would hear my two roommates talking about.” I stood up straight, my clothes falling onto my bed. At the door stood the person I could only assume to be Charlie, a backpack slung over his shoulder. “Yeah, this'll be a great year.” He laughed tapping the door jamb as he walked away. I turned back to Dean glaring.

“Great, now he thinks we’re crazy.” I hissed as I threw the clothes on my bed and walked out after Charlie, finding him spread out on the couch. “Hi.” I waved. “I’m Y/N.”

“The virgin.” Dean chimed in as he walked out of my room. “Hey Charlie, catch the game the other day?”

“Yeah, absolutely mental,” I have no clue what so ever what they’re talking about. “You really a virgin?” Harry looked me up and down, just like Dean had.

“Do I need to get it tattoo’d on my forehead?” Dean cackled as he walked over to Charlie, sitting beside him on the lounge.

“Not necessary, it’s just hard to believe.” Harry shrugged as if this was the most normal conversation for three complete strangers to be having.

“Why is it so hard to believe?”

“Cause you’re not ugly,” Harry shrugged once more, seconds later being hit on the shoulder by Dean.

“Exactly what I said.” I threw my arms up in the air and walked back to my bedroom, ignoring Dean and Charlie. “Hey, C’mon Y/N,” Dean called out. “We have to go get food and everything still. You can’t be pissed at us just yet. How else are you going to get dinner.”

Fuck these guys.

“Fine.” I groaned storming back out from where I’d come, “Can we go now though so when we get back we can just unpack and not have to leave again?”

“Sure,” Harry stood up picking up his keys. “I’ll drive.”

“That’s good cause I don’t have a car,” I called behind him.

“Don’t drive?” Dean looked over his shoulder as we all walked to the front door, checking we each had our set of keys before shutting the door behind us.

“Back home was so small and compact, I didn’t really need it.” Dean nodded.

“I can teach you if you want, sometime throughout the year?”

“That’d be great Dean.” I smiled, genuinely touched by his offer. “So what are you each studying?” I turned walking back down the hallway. “Wait, let me guess.” I looked over Harry studying his face. “Harry is going to be a politician, and you Dean, you’re gonna be a lawyer.”

“Got me.” Dean smiled.

“I saw your coursebook on the table.” I giggled, turning to Charlie. “Well?”

“Not me,” Harry followed quickly. I frowned, “I’m going to be a History teacher, Ancient preferably but I’d settle for modern.” I raised an eyebrow, not what I was expecting from Charlie. “Not what you expected.” He smiled as if he read my mind.

“Not even close.” I laughed before my body got pushed towards them. “What the fork.” I cried as I fell into Charlie, both of us unable to stabilise ourselves we fell in a heap on the floor.

“Shit, you guys okay?” I froze. I knew that voice. A loud thump came from beside us, a box dropped to the ground. “Here let me help you.” George, I rolled myself over, propping myself up on my elbows looking up at him from the ground. He recognised me, freezing for a minute before a huge smile filled his face. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“You mean here at the University, or here as in the ground?” I looked over at Charlie. “With Charlie?” I added. George laughed, reaching out and grabbing onto me. He easily pulled me up. Harry pulled himself up quickly, standing off behind me with Dean. I didn’t care where he was right now I was too engulfed by George MacKay.

“Same old Y/N.” George laughed pushing some of my hair behind my ear. Done by anyone else the gesture would have been misplaced, but being done by George it could easily be passed off as a casual gesture. “But I do mean at the University.”

“I’m attending Uni here.” I pointed over my shoulder, “Dean, Harry and I all share a flat two doors down. We were just heading out to get food.” I noticed the bag on his shoulder. “Are you dropping someone off?”

“No, I go here too.” I couldn’t help but smile.

“Model career didn’t work out then?”

“Not just yet.” George stood back to take a good look at me. “I can’t believe I ran into you.”

“Literally.” Dean pipped up in the background. George didn’t look up at him.

“I wanted to drop by after the party, but I thought you might need some time to breathe.”

“I appreciate that.” I turned back to look at Harry and Dean, both were watching the conversation intently. “Sorry, Dean, Harry this is George. We’re from the same town.”

“Nice to meet you, George,” Dean extended his hand out slapping against George’s. “Do you watch football?”

“Yeah. A mad Liverpool supporter, you?”

“Chelsea,” Harry let out a low whistle. George’s eyes turned to him.

“This is why he’s going to be a lawyer, he’s got a lot of practice lying about Chelsea being a good team.” Harry extended his hand out to George, “I’m Charlie, also a Liverpool fan.”

In what parallel universe was I introducing George Richards to people, as if we were good friends. This was weird. So weird.

“We better get going… It was good to see you, George.” Play it cool Y/N. Like an ice-cube.

“You too.” I smiled once more before walking past him. We got to the end of the hallway before either Harry or Dean spoke again.

“I thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend,” Dean questioned as he pressed the button for the elevator.

“I don’t.”

“Then what’s going on with you and George?” Dean smirked as the doors opened. “Because I’m sure if you really wanted that pesky little thing called your virginity gone, I’m sure he’d take it for you.” Dean chuckled. “Just saying.”

“God Dean, I forgot how sex-driven you were.” Harry shook his head, stepping inside.

“Unlike you Dean, I don’t have the desire to let anyone take me to bed.”

“At the moment,” Dean chuckled.

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