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vampiresmiled · 6 years ago

Note

✩ watergate

i want to preface this by saying that i hate watergate and the fact that this meme is four-hundred pages long only furthered my hatred for this abomination of a ship. and yes, i am using kennedy walsh as a mascot for this occasion. mind your own.

DISAGREEMENTS

who is more likely to raise their voice? we been through this. it’s mickey, he inherited his father’s temper. giving a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘daddy issues.’who threatens to leave but never actually does? mickey. the man is full of empty promises. who actually keeps their word and leaves? emma. mickey would never leave, he’s mickey : abandonment issues and all. who trashes the house? worst case scenario, mickey. but normal circumstances, nobody. they’re not wolfgang circa 2016, post ziba finding out about his heart issues, oil on canvas. do either of them get physical? i mean, #basementgate … ringing any bells ? it’d be a mistake on mickey’s part, otherwise no. how often do they argue/disagree? only when their collective insecurities start acting up. and if my memory serves me right, that’s like every other week. who is the first to apologise? both, simultaneously.

SEX

who is on top? do you remember You 1x04 ? joe was on top … let’s aim for nine seconds, okay.who is on the bottom? did i not just answer that. who has the strangest desires? what is this, an episode of lucifer ? jokes, all jokes. probably emma. shy in the streets, freaky in the sheets. any kinks? does … harmonicas count ? literally retire the joke, mads – RETIRE IT.who’s dominant in bed? neither. they’re vanilla and boring and i hate them.is head ever in the equation? it’s always in the equation, we’re no dj khaled stans here.if so, who is better at performing it? mickey will toss your salad like he’s aidan gallagher’s biggest fan.ever had sex in public? public sex for them is in her car. so, yes.who moans the most? emma ‘cos she never knows when to zip it.who leaves the most marks? mickey. mark your territory, y’know. it’s critical.who screams the loudest? i said what i said.who is the more experienced of the two? big oof @ emma’s bodycount. do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? they make sweet, sweet love.rough or soft? soft as hale.how long do they usually last? 9 seconds. however adequately long is … that’s how long. they drag it out. make a day out of it. is protection used? they never wrap it before they tap it. and with is history of … you know, [ finger banging motions ] emma should’ve had chlamydia by now. but yes, they wrap it. sometimes. they don’t remember that often.does it ever get boring? nope. where is the strangest place they’d have sex? on his mother’s grave. or maybe not. i dunno, would they fuck at a preschool ? i don’t put it past them.

FAMILY

do your muses plan on having children/or have children? together they haven’t spoken about it. but separately, fuck yeah. if so, how many children do your muses want/have? i feel like emma wants two or three, mickey wants a football team.who is the favorite parent? since mickey is gonna be a stay-at-home dad, fuck you, him. who is the authoritative parent? odette. they hire her to come in every week to stare real hard at the kids until they clean the entire house unprompted. works like wonders. super nanny who ?who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school? mickey. who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around? mickey, mickey, mickey. emma’s all about carrots and nutritions. fuck that, we’re going to mcdonkey d.who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children? mickey organizes the extra curricular activities. he’s that dad.who goes to parent teacher interviews? emma ‘cos mickey gets mistaken for flirting with the the mrs. grundy looking teach every single time. not riverdale!grundy, comics!grundy. [ chicken girls vc ] spicy … who changes the diapers? mickey avoided it for the first couple of months by sheer magic and a lot of pampering @ emma. but she caught on, and then he was on diaper duty for a full year. after that the kid doesn’t need diapers so … unless they wee the bed then we have another problem on our hands. who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby? mickey, that’s how he avoided diaper changes. who spends the most time with the children? mickey ‘cos he’s ugly and unemployed. who packs their lunch boxes? emma ‘cos mickey would sneak brownies in there and all the other kids would get jealous and cry during lunch. true story, i was there. who gives their children ‘the talk’? mickey would want to but seeing as he’s who he is, emma took it upon herself to give them a more science based talk. ironic considering what his current job is but … who cleans up after the kids? mickey-boy.who worries the most? emma by a long shot. mickey has zero cares in the world. he’s the type of dad to toss the kids up 375ft into the air while emma yells frantically in the background of the video odette is filming. she’s there for chaos, not so much for telling mickey the kid’s neck can break. who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from? i think emma. mickey’s gonna be super good with coming up with psuedo-swears like motherflubber and fudge. emma will slip up, i know she will.

AFFECTION

who likes to cuddle? both.who is the little spoon? mickey, he likes to be held – it makes him feel safe.who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? fucking mickey the horn-dog. who struggles to keep their hands to themself? did you not see what i just said. how long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? several hours. they never get uncomfy, fuck off. who gives the most kisses? listen, mickey loves giving love. whatever that touchy feely result was on the love language quiz, that was he. so, – he’ll smooch her everywhere and whenever. try and stop him, you can’t. except they’re not dating right now so i guess he’s successfully kept at bay. barely. what is their favourite non-sexual activity? banter. like genuinely. they just sit on the sofa and tear each other apart. it’s a good old time. that or soaps. mickey’s a huge fan of days of our lives.where is their favourite place to cuddle? probably couch. who is more likely to playfully grope the other? mickey. but emma’s known to grab his ass at times which is honestly childish, emma quit it. how often do they get time to themselves? seeing as they’re currently childless and also single, all the time in the world.

SLEEPING

who snores? emma, i said it.if both do, who snores the loudest? emma …do they share a bed or sleep separately? they’re not the weathers, ok.if they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? close, so very close.who talks in their sleep? mickey. he says some dumb shit, she writes it down.what do they wear to bed? dicks out. kidding. mickey sleeps shirtless, and emma sleeps in his shirt. fair deal. are either of your muses insomniacs? no.can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? only if he wanna knock her out for some quiet. but also no.do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? they’re a whole ass pretzel, k. who wakes up with bed hair? emma might have more hair but mickey’s is untamed. who wakes up first? emma. who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? mickey is a king in the kitchen, so.what is their favourite sleeping position? his face full on in the crook of her neck and like completely wrapped up in each other like my headphones after 2 minutes.who hogs the sheets? both of them, every night is a struggle.do they set an alarm each night? emma does. mickey likes to wing it.can a television be found in their bedroom? no, emma said that’s not allowed and that’s why she’s currently sexless. who has nightmares? neither … who has ridiculous dreams? mickey, hence the talking. who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? mickey probably.who makes the bed? emma, she’s so responsible.what time is bed time? like two hours after they decide it’s time to sleep. they talk alot. and … do other things we shall not mention ( discuss the current political climate ). and they fuck. any routines/rituals before bed? dental hygiene is very important to them both so they spend like 20 minutes in the bathroom. who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? emma. mickey is ready :clap: to :clap: go !

WORK

who is the busiest? mickey. being a nurse is no joke. neither is having to take up shifts at the hardware store ‘cos your dad’s a drunk.who rakes in the highest income? i dunno. they both have shite jobs in terms of salary. google it. are any of your muses unemployed? not yet. who takes the most sick days? honestly, neither. mickey’s the type to go work with a flu and emma is too much of a suck-up to risk looking like a bad employee. who is more likely to turn up late to work? mickey. who sucks up to their boss? both. love that for them.what are their jobs? er nurse and preschool teacher. if you didn’t know that by now, kill yourself.who stresses the most? emma, no doubt, no doubt.do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? LOVE. are your muses financially stable? * laughs in the spirit of president snow choking to death on his own chortles * no.

HOME

who does the washing? mickey mixed the reds and whites once, so … take a gamble.who takes out the trash? mickey whenever he leaves for work. get it? ok.who does the ironing? mickey also burnt a hole in one of her shirts.who does the cooking? MICKEY. so stay out of the kitchen if you can’t handle the heat, woman.who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? emma.who is messier? mickey. who leaves the toilet roll empty? mickey, but it’s on purpose. you see … he likes to do it just so she’ll have to yell at him to get her some. it’s just funny. every time. sometimes he forgets to put it back before he leaves. those are the times he gets a roll thrown at his face when he gets home.who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? mickey. it’s charming.who forgets to flush the toilet? ew, no one.who is the prankster around the house? they’re both equally pranky … not a word ! mickey just tends to be more unexpected in his pranks. who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? emma. mickey doesn’t have his own car.who mows the lawn? they’re apartment people, buzz off.who answers the telephone? no one, their answering machine message is just too good to go to waste.who does the vacuuming? emma.who does the groceries? mickey.who takes the longest to shower? mickey. he’s depressed.who spends the most time in the bathroom? emma.

MISCELLANEOUS

is money a problem? of course it is. they’re broke.how many cars do they own? one.do they own their home or do they rent? rent.do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside? … fuck if i know. where even is sheffield.do they live in the city or in the country? downtown, asshat.do they enjoy their surroundings? sure.what’s their song? i know it’s not 1998 yet. but – closing time by semisonic is a bop i’ve mentioned for them before. what do they do when they’re away from each other? pine.where did they first meet? i wanna say her place but she’s not that stupid. probably joe’s or something. how did they first meet? when mickey answered the roommate ad. who spends the most money when out shopping? mickey. it’s all on food.who’s more likely to flash their assets? like tits ? neither.who finds it amusing when the other trips over? mickey. and emma. both. they’re ten.any mental issues? plenty to go around.who’s terrified of bugs? emma.who kills the spiders around the house? mickey carries them outside, thank you very much.their favourite place? at home. yeah, they’re like that.who pays the bills? emma pays pays them, but like … he gives her money.do they have any fears for their future? so many we cannot get into that right now.who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? mickey. but like home-cooked ‘cos he’s a poor, poor man. who uses up all of the hot water? mickey.who’s the tallest? [ softly ] don’t. who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? ickey-mickey.who wanders around in their underwear? MICKEY. who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? they both try and out-sing each other. he starts it, she ends it. what do they tease each other about? harmonicas and their deepest insecurities. who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? remember the bee shirt.do they have mutual friends? no, jack hates him and i hate jack.who crushed first? i wanna say … mickey.any alcohol or substance related problems? nope.who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? mickey, it’s in his genes.who swears the most? neither of them swear that much but i guess i’ll have to go with the ugly one.

#all posts / mt.#starring emma / mt.#answered / mt.#holydepths #ask

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aqua-harry · 8 years ago

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She’s Just Not That Into You » Part II (A Harry Styles Miniseries)

Miss the first part? Find it here.

Even if Nick did piss him off, Harry couldn’t help but be proud of his best friend whenever he was awarded opportunities. He worked hard, and it was nice to see that hard work pay off in the end. So, when Nick mentioned that you were having a viewing party for his appearance on The Big Fat Quiz of the Year, Harry feared that he wouldn’t be able to celebrate the milestone with him.

“Ask her,” he demanded one afternoon.

Nick laughed, his eyes widening at Harry’s insistence. After little pleading from his friend, Nick sent a text asking you if Harry could be his plus one for the dinner party. Once he’d sent it, Harry forced Nick to show him the text for proof, figuring that it was just like him to say he’d asked you when he didn’t, instead showing up to the party with Harry anyway, thinking it was funny to throw both of you for a loop. Nick’s phone dinged minutes later, your name lighting up the screen. Your response of “Sure.” had caused Harry to go into an existential crisis, the wrinkle in his brow deep as he pulled at his lips.

“She doesn’t want me there,” he grunted. “‘m not goin’.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harold,” Nick tried to console him, patting his head. “Go with me. I want you there, and ‘m sure she does, too.”

“Would’ve invited me in the first place if she did.”

“She’s not close with ye’,” Nick explained. “She would’ve invited you if she knew y’better, right? But she doesn’t. So I’m invitin’ ya, and I know she wants it to be everythin’ I want it to be. Even makin’ my favorite meal, so quit worryin’. You’re going.”

And, really, it wasn’t the blasé, one-word response that threw Harry off. It was the period at the end of it. So final, so complete. Sure. An exclamation point would’ve been appreciated, considering it was a party. Parties were supposed to be happy; they were supposed to be exciting, and the punctuation should match, if you asked Harry.

And yet, on the night of the party, he still picks up Nick, driving across town to your place, letting him talk his ear off while Harry focuses on the road. Hopefully, through his chatter, Nick doesn’t notice how nervous he is as he pulls at his lower lip. His oatmeal-colored sweater was appropriate, right? It was winter, after all. But Nick was wearing a typical button-up from Topman, paired with a leather jacket, and that made Harry feel bulky in his cable knit jumper. He should’ve known better - he should’ve worn that black shirt he had eyed after getting out of the shower. Stupidly, he thinks, he went for the sweater, worried that he might get cold throughout the evening and wish he’d gone for layers, rather than fashion.

“This is her building,” Nick says, breaking Harry from his self-deprecation. “Right here on the left.”

As the elevator rises higher and higher, Harry’s heart sinks further into his chest with every ding indicating that your floor was nearing. Pulling the cuffs of his sweater over his hands, he chuckles at Nick’s comment that he didn’t fully catch, his stomach dropping when the lift stops and the doors open.

“...think it’s probably more of a dog thing than a cat thing, but who knows?” Nick says over his shoulder while Harry follows him down the hallway, stopping in front of a door with a Christmas wreath hanging upon it. “How nice! She left the holiday wreath up for the cheeky viewing party!”

Harry clears his throat when Nick knocks on the door as he’s opening it, sing-songing his arrival through the laughter of the couple guests who had already arrived. It smells incredible, your apartment. A mixture of home and something else that he’d come to learn as your own unique scent wraps around Harry, and he instantly feels at ease. Following his friend’s suit, he kicks off his boots and lines them up neatly by the door, causing Nick to chuckle at his politeness.

“Always the gentleman,” he chortles, wrapping his arm around his best friend’s shoulders.

Harry chooses not to respond and instead lets himself be lead into the kitchen by Nick, where you’re carefully pulling a standing rib roast out of the oven like some sort of domestic goddess straight out of a housewares magazine.

“See?” Nick elbows Harry. “Told ye’ she can cook.”

Harry takes a second to eye your kitchen. He can appreciate how you’ve mixed the industrial feel of the appliances with the dark marble countertops, the white cabinetry bringing the room together in a way that he’d come to know as your personal style. You had a bowl of assorted fruit on the island, along with a bouquet of what looked like real flowers placed in the middle of the table that occupied the breakfast nook in the corner. He remembers reading about how you swapped counter clutter out for a simple bowl or vase when it came to your own kitchen, preferring to have your workspace clear for all of the cooking you did. It was in one of those articles that you had up on your website - one of the spreads that tried to get more personal than you were willing be - and he takes a second to remind himself not to mention how closely he’d been studying you over the holiday.

“Hi!” you grin, quickly pulling off your oven mitts and tossing them on the counter. “The man of the hour!”

“Didn’t ‘ave to go through all of this for lil ol’ me!”

“Oh, yes I did,” you laugh. “It’s not everyday one of your best friends is on the biggest show of the year!”

You kiss Nick on both cheeks, holding his face in between your palms. Harry looks on as you pull him in for a tight embrace, rubbing your fingers across the back of his neck and tucking your face into his shoulder. And, yeah, Harry will admit that it stings a little when all you do is grace your cheek against his and give a half-hug to greet him, instead of the obviously warm greeting you’d provided Nick.

“How was home?” you ask Harry. “End up getting Mum something special, then?”

He’s surprised, to say the least, that you remember whatever he was rambling about at Nick’s impromptu dinner party he’d met you at. He looks at you, your bare feet charming against the dark hardwood floors of your kitchen, your toenails painted a holiday red to match the mood. Your cheeks are a bit flushed, probably from the pressures of hosting, but you look refreshed and happy. Harry can’t help but want to kiss you, not only for remembering your previous conversation, but for looking so damn good in a simple pair of black jeans and a cream-colored blouse.

“Yeah,” he nods. “She loved it.”

“I’m glad,” you smirk, patting his shoulder before reverting your attention back to Nick.

Harry grumbles to himself in his head as he follows you and Nick, linked arms and all, into your living room. A pat on the shoulder? You might as well be wearing a chastity belt with a sign that read, “Anyone but Harry Styles!” in bold black letters pinned to your front. He hadn’t a chance with you - not a single one - so he might as well just give it up now. Throw in the towel and never look back.

When he enters the living room, three people he doesn’t know look up, including a clean-cut man who introduces himself as Cam. As he’s shaking everyone’s hand, he can’t help but notice the familiar scent of cinnamon enveloping the room. He scans the area until he spots it - a Diptyque candle lit in the center of your coffee table.

“You know about Diptyque?” he asks, not paying any mind to whatever conversations may have been going on around him. “They’re my favorite!”

“They’re the best,” you nod. “Can I get you something to drink? Stocked the bar…”

While you fix Nick and Harry their requested drinks - vodka soda for the older one and straight whiskey for the boy - Harry inspects your living room, noticing your vintage tour posters from the likes of Pink Floyd and the Eagles, tastefully framed and hanging on the largest wall of the room. He wondered if you just liked the look of the art or if you actually listened to the bands. Figuring you weren’t the type to choose something like a tour poster just for the aesthetic of it, he ponders your possible music tastes. The large bookcases that fit into the wall like they were made for it - were they? - house more books than Harry had ever seen in a home. A full set of encyclopedias, dictionaries, and every other periodical imaginable rests upon the shelves, and Harry enjoys picturing you delicately opening each atlas and planning on where to travel next. Humming, he sits down next to Nick on the plush velvet sofa that’s decorated with a bounty of throw pillows.

“Love the new rug,” Nick comments, running his sock-clad feet over the high-pile material. “Where’s the old one! Said I wanted it when you were bored of it.”

“I’ve got it,” Cam, the well-dressed man speaks up from his spot on one of two armchairs. “She gave it to me, mate.”

“Figures she’d give you her rug before I got a chance at it.”

Harry is immediately envious when the three of you - Cam, Nick, and yourself - erupt in laughter. He smiles, accepting his whiskey from you with a nod and a small thanks, keeping a keen eye on Cam.

He settles into the couch, observing and listening, smiling and nodding whenever the conversation called for it. Normally, he was the center of attention. Normally, people looked to him to keep the conversation going. Normally, he didn’t have to feel awkward about not exactly knowing anyone. But, tonight was different. It was about Nick, and even though Harry had met you and a handful of the other guests who hadn’t shown up yet, he didn’t want to outshine his best friend in his moment of glory.

And, maybe...maybe he didn’t want to say anything that would embarrass himself in front of you.

You seem to be the perfect host, putting out a charcuterie board with beautiful meats, cheeses, and chutneys to occupy the guests who continue to arrive - the final number totalling twelve, by Harry’s count. You have a propensity to please, sitting on the arms of the couches and armchairs instead of fully settling in, offering to refill everyone’s drinks without coming across as pushy. You stock the platter with more options whenever it was looking sparse, encouraging everyone to eat more, as eating a fancy meat and cheese plate by yourself would be too depressing to bear.

When you announce that dinner is ready, everyone begins to move to the dining room as you apologize for having to split up the party - you don’t have a table big enough to sit thirteen, so some guests will have to sit at the smaller breakfast nook in your kitchen while the majority of guests will be sat at the large dining table.

“Loo?” Harry whispers to Nick, and he points down the hallway in response. “Thanks. Be right back.”

He knocks on the door, frowning when he finds it occupied. He leans against the opposite wall, picking at his nails while he waits. You appear at the other side of the corridor, stopping abruptly in front of another doorway, gripping the wooden frame to pause and look at Harry in question.

“Occupied,” he smiles, pointing to the closed bathroom door.

“You can use the one in my bedroom,” you point in front of you.

“Oh,” Harry stutters, walking forward and then stopping himself. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course,” you nod, beckoning him over. “Just in here to the right,” you indicate with your hand, stepping aside so he can enter the room.

He thanks you quietly, noticing as he closes the door that you leave the room to give him privacy. He takes his time scanning the small powder room, noticing how organized it is, with your toiletries lined up neatly and the hand towels folded perfectly. He smiles at the small Diptyque candle next to your hand cream, this one rose-scented instead of the cinnamon fragrance that was burning in your living room. When he washes his hands, he takes note of how soft the towels are and how lovely the soap smelled. He flicks off the light, stepping back into your bedroom, smelling the lingering aroma on his hands.

Before he heads back to the party, he walks into your room, inspecting the details of your life. Yet again, a candle is lit on your dresser - pomegranate, now - next to a small vase of fresh flowers. He’d seen fresh flowers in your living room and kitchen, as well. He wondered if you always had real bouquets around, or if you’d wanted them for the party. He hopes it’s the former as he pictures you walking into a small flower shop every Monday, excited as you pick out a new arrangement for the week, thanking the florist you were on a first-name basis with.

A small stack of books occupies your nightstand, causing Harry to smile at the thought of you not being able to decide which one to read first. A pair of glasses sits on top of them, and he questions what you look like with them on. Do you need them only to read, or do you wear contacts during the day, switching them out for your glasses at night? Your bed looks comfortable - too comfortable - and for a moment, Harry allows himself to imagine what it would be like waking up next to you under the delicate white linens, your warm body stretching out against his own while you convince him to stay under the covers for a bit longer...

Whiskey serving as his bravery, he steps further into your room and stands in front of the vast bookcases that were clearly custom-built. Matching the shelves in your living room - save for the white-washed wood instead of the deep cherry that was in the hub of your apartment - he smirks as he inspects the items you’d placed upon display with intent. Not only were the shelves filled with books of every size, color, and genre, you’d also integrated frames sporting pictures of you and your friends or family, along with other mementos from your life.

He looks over those frames, trying to get a feel of who was most important to you. It seems as though you had siblings - maybe a sister and a brother. There’s a picture of you and what looks to be a younger version of yourself on either side of a tall man who shares your smile, all in front of a Christmas tree. Had the picture been taken back in Devon? He hopes he’d eventually become close enough to you to find out who everyone in each picture was. Maybe even be featured in a couple, if he’s lucky enough.

“Like what you see?” your voice coming from behind startles him. Lightly grasping his chest, he turns around and hopes his skin doesn’t look too flushed. He’d been caught.

“Don’t think ‘ve ever seen so many books outside of a library before,” Harry saves himself, pointing towards the bookshelf as if he needed evidence.

You speak briefly about your collection, knowing that it probably isn’t healthy to have so many books, especially when it was time to move. But, you’d said, they were a comfort. And you had read most of them. Some were there just because they were a good deal or they were gifted to you. You’d tried to get rid of some, you explained to Harry, but they had become an extension of your home - almost like they were a permanent fixture - so you’d kept them, regardless of how much space they took up.

“And you always have fresh flowers?” Harry inquires. “Or is it just for the party?”

“Always,” you smile. “Don’t think a room is complete without them, really. The florist down the way from my shop - his name’s Raul - he always gives me a good deal.”

Of course he does, Harry thinks to himself. Must have everyone under your spell.

“C’mon,” you motion your head towards the door. “Let’s get some meat on those bones.”

Dinner begins and Harry is unsurprised to find that everything is delicious. He’s sat at the larger table with Nick while you sit in the kitchen next to Cam. He’s almost thankful that he can’t see the two of you from his position, but every now and then, he’ll hear your distinct bubbly laughter which causes a pang in his chest. He’s not the one getting such a reaction out of you.

But did he even have the right to?

After dinner, once everyone is settled back into the living room to watch Nick on the television, you busy yourself with making tea and coffee for everyone. You pop up from your position on the couch during a commercial break, nearly running into the kitchen so you can quickly return to the party without missing any of the show.

“Need any help?” Harry peeks his head into the kitchen, endeared with how quickly you’re plating small pastries onto a ceramic tray.

“Yes!” you sigh, thankful for his offering. “Could you grab a spoon out of that drawer?” you point vaguely with your elbow, your hands preoccupied with petit fours.

He nods, opening the wrong drawer, hearing you audibly wince from behind him. You quickly wipe your hands on the tea towel next to you, placing soft hand on Harry’s shoulder while you reach to open the proper drawer.

“Now you know one of my dirty little secrets,” you smirk, winking at him as you pull a spoon from the cutlery drawer. “Everyone’s got one, yeah?”

He doesn’t know whether you’re talking about a dirty secret or the junk drawer, but he agrees anyway, as the only thing he’s able to properly focus on is how good you smell. You’d only been pressed up against him for a millisecond, but he’d give nearly anything to feel you that close once more.

It might be the drinks he’s consumed over the last couple of hours, or it may be your perfume completely mystifying him, or even all of the blood rushing to his crotch that he hopes to god you don’t notice, but Harry somehow gains enough courage to ask you - right then and there - to work with him on decorating his new house. Neglecting the fact that the house wasn’t even technically his yet, he blurts out the request, hoping that his broker is cinching the deal on the new property as he speaks.

“Sure, sure,” you nod, licking a bit of cream off of your thumb. “Call the store and Megan will take care of you. Set up an appointment and all that,” you slide past him and rifle through your junk drawer, which is less of a junk drawer and more of an organized catch-all. “Here’s my card.”

And while Harry is somewhat disappointed you didn’t give him your personal cell phone number, you’re professional, and he respects that. You’d had no indication that he was looking for something more than an interior designer, and if he’d learned anything during his time off, it was that he should take what he can get, in terms of most things.

Nick runs the rest of the evening, giving the party guests the play-by-play of what happened during commercial breaks. Harry’s proud of his friend - he can tell that he’s comfortable in this setting of people Harry has never met, which opens up another side of Nick he’d never seen before. A tasteful, more refined side, and Harry decides that it’s all because of you, whether that’s true or not.

Cam stands up almost immediately after the show is finished, announcing that he was in for a long day tomorrow. He shakes Nick’s hand and gives him a pat on the back before bidding goodbye to Harry. Harry sticks out his hand, noticing that Cam hadn’t offered his own first, and tells him that it was nice to meet him. The conventional man smiles and nods his head but doesn’t say anything in response - no, “You too, Harry.” or, “Likewise, mate.”

It ruffles Harry’s feathers a bit, although he’s not certain why.

He watches as you say goodbye to Cam on the outskirts of the party, but thanks to Nick’s boisterous cackling, he can’t hear the entire conversation. He does, however, catch Cam’s question of, “Still on for coffee tomorrow?” with a confirmation from you, followed by a kiss on the cheek and a tight squeeze, your head tucking into his shoulder.

With fully-ruffled plumes, Harry turns away from the intimate exchange and pretends to follow whatever topic the conversation had turned to. It’s a strange feeling for him - jealousy, was it? - and he’s not quite sure how to handle it. He certainly had no right to feel this way. No claim was made upon you by him, and you had definitely not staked one on him.

But, there was an undeniable pit in his stomach, indicating that he wanted that right. Harry wanted to be allowed to feel jealous. He wanted to be wary of every straight man within the tri-city area because he knew what a great catch you are and you were all his. He wanted to put his arm around your waist when he found others staring at you, wondering if they had a shot. He wanted to be the one to kiss you goodnight and confirm plans for coffee the next morning. He wanted to know whether your coffee order was contingent on the weather, or if you got the same drink year-round.

He wanted to be in Cam’s place, even if the man didn’t have the ability to be polite to someone he’d just met.

“Ready to go?” Nick asks him an hour later, after you’d begged them not to help you clean up, instead offering to make them another drink along with some light conversation.

“Yeah,” Harry nods. His desire to stay in your apartment any second longer had left as soon as he saw the way you laughed at whatever Cam had whispered in your ear.

And even though Harry had no right to be jealous - even though he barely even knew you, save for the glimpse into your world he received from looking at your bookshelves - he wanted to know you. He’d not felt anything resembling what he’d felt that night for, quite frankly, years.

As Nick thanks you for the party, giggly and clearly intoxicated, a book on the shelf next to Harry catches his eye. He thumbs the binding, tilting his head to read the title. A Little Life. He carefully removes the large novel, running his palm over the agonized face of the man on the cover.

“Have you read that?” you ask once Nick has successfully put his shoes on.

“No,” Harry shakes his head, looking up. “Been meaning to, though. My sister read it last year and wanted me to, but I never got around to it.”

“It’s one of my favorites,” you raise your eyebrows.

“One of hers, too,” he smiles, flipping through some of the pages. “Can I…”

He stops himself, not knowing if he knew you well enough to be borrowing your favorite books. But, then again, he was going to be seeing you a lot after he makes the appointment, so he looks up and gains momentum from your inquisitive smile.

“Would you mind if I borrowed it?”

“Of course,” you nod. “Just be sure to tell me what you think of it.”

His heart jumps in his chest with the certainty that yes, he will be seeing you again and yes, you will have something to talk about other than paint samples and cabinet finishes. He can hardly wait to get home and begin reading, picturing how excited you’ll look as you talk about your favorite parts in one of your most-loved books, maybe even over a cappuccino in a small cafe.

Tucking the book underneath his arm, he leads his best friend out of your apartment, waving goodbye to you with a knowing smile as Nick babbles on about one thing or another in slurred words, the alcohol he’d consumed making his accent thicker than usual.

“How well d’you know Cam?” Harry asks Nick as he drives away from your building.

“New friend,” he shrugs, tapping his fingers against the door.

“Mmm,” Harry gives a short nod.

“Why?” Nick hiccups.

“Wasn’t all that nice,” he shrugs.

“Nice t’me.”

“Well, she deserves someone who’s nice t’everyone,” Harry tries to mask his contention with a cough, running his index finger under his nose as he furrows his brow.

“‘arry,” Nick groans, running his hands down his face. “Ye’ really want ‘er that bad?”

“Why’re you yelling?” Harry avoids his best friend’s concentrated gaze as he turns a corner, speeding up as he drives down the less-crowded side street.

“Scale o’ one-to-ten.”

“‘m not gonna scale it.”

“Do it!”

“‘m not going to scale it,” Harry repeats, more forcefully this time. Sure, he introduced the two of you, but he had no right to demand such information out of him. Harry didn’t owe anything to Nick, regardless of how close the two of them were.

“Thought ye’ didn’t like ‘er.”

“I don’t,” the green-eyed driver frowns.

“Then why does it matter if Cam is nice to e’ryone or not?” Nick slurs.

“I don’t ‘av to like her to think she deserves t’be with someone nice.”

Nick’s quiet then, mulling over the thought of Harry concerning himself with the man you wind up with. Harry will be the first to admit that it looks suspicious - his want for you to be with someone respectful and kind - but even if he didn’t have a certain keenness for you, he would still want you to end up with a man who was pleasant on all accounts.

That’s just the kind of person Harry was.

“Issat why ye’ asked for th’ book?” Nick chortles, slapping his hand down on the center console. “‘Cause y’wanted t’ see ‘er again?”

“‘m gonna see her again without the book,” Harry clears his throat. “Made plans to meet with her for m’new house. Thinking she’s going to be th’ right fit.”

“Mmm, yeah,” Nick shakes his head. “Sure is gonna be th’ right fit.”

Harry makes a point of not saying much else for the rest of the drive, answering Nick with sounds and one-word answers rather than anything incriminating that he could use against him in the future. He shakes his head as he watches his friend fumble with the keys to his front door, waving wildly at him from the threshold while Harry drives away.

On the way back to his place, he replays the evening in his mind, wondering if he should’ve done anything differently. It had ended well, save for the exchange between you and Cam. What had he said that made you laugh so beautifully? Would Harry ever be able to elicit such a sound from you? He wonders, with a wrinkle in between his eyebrows, if he should’ve been more charming - he should’ve made more jokes, he should’ve been more insistent on helping you clean up the mess from dinner...he shouldn’t have snooped.

His house is dark when he arrives, the lack of light only magnifying how empty it was; how very much alone he was. He fantasized about how easy it would be to come home to you, lounging on his couch and telling him that you’d saved some dinner for him. He’d kiss the top of your head before walking into the kitchen, shouting to you over his shoulder, questioning about how your day had gone.

As he gets ready for bed, Harry recalls the hug you gave him goodbye, reminding him to call your office to set up an appointment. He memorized the way your cheek felt against his and how you squeezed his bicep before stepping away.

He could tell, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he’d already become addicted to that feeling. That want. That need. And he was looking forward to getting to know it very, very well.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurbs #harry styles concepts #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

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pinkfan-gurl · 8 years ago

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A Little Bird Told Me

chapter ten of an 1oo au

"I know I've asked like, a billion times, but when are you coming to visit?" Clarke fell backward onto her bed, awaiting the vague response she knew that she was going to receive.

"As soon as I settle into the new house more," her father's voice answered over the phone.

"That's what you always say. It's already been close to four months since I last saw you."

Ever since the move, Clarke and her dad had made it a habit to have at least an hour long phone call once a week to catch each other up on what's been happening on either end of the country. They used to talk everyday, but ever since the dreaded Quiz Bowl had been dumped into her lap, Clarke had been finding it harder to find time to dedicate to her dad.

The only reason she was able to make the call now was because she was all ready for her date with Finn, but he texted her saying he was running about fifteen minutes late so she had decided to give her dad a buzz. She was relieved when he had picked up after the second ring.

"I know kiddo, but the house isn't even situated yet. I still have boxes piled higher than the Hoover Dam."

Clarke chuckled. "Mom always was the more organized one, huh?"

This time she heard him laugh on the other end, giving Clarke satisfaction that she was able to bring a smile to his face. "That she is. She'd of had this place looking like a palace by now."

"You should still come out, even if it is a mess out there."

"I think you should come out here. California sun and warm weather—we could go surfing or something."

"It does sound tempting," she lied, rolling over onto her stomach. For as much as she enjoyed the warm weather, the thought of prancing around in California was less than appealing. Maybe it was because she was still angry about the move, but even if it was, she didn't care. She wanted her dad back in New Jersey, living in the house on the corner that she grew up in. "Maybe during Christmas—if you're able to get your house finalized by that time."

She was clearly kidding about having his house put together by that time, which was what made it funny. Her dad laughed again while Clarke bit back a smile. "So how's Jasper and your mom been?" he changed the subject.

Clarke rolled her eyes; he knew they would dwell on the topic of visitation for hours unless he dodged the bullet. "Mom's good. She's been working a couple of double shifts in attempt to to get that promotion. And Jasper signed up for a robotics thing with Monty."

"Very cool. I'm proud of your mom. And Jasper and Monty working on a robot together? Is that really the best idea when something could easily explode with those two together?" he sounded genuinely concerned which was funny enough that Clarke had to stifle a laugh.

"Well, neither of them have blown anything up yet so far this year, so that's good," she replied, still grinning.

"If you say so." Clarke could hear the smile in his tone even if they were three-thousand miles apart. "How's Wells?"

The question made Clarke stop and suddenly her blood boiled. Why was he even asking about Wells? He knew that she had dumped him; besides, Wells was the reason that her dad was in California looking for a job! She might have forgiven Wells for being her ex boyfriend, but she hadn't forgiven him for what he had done.

She wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to.

"Uh, yeah, he's okay. Straight A's and whatnot probably," she said. Her tone came off as more icy than she intended. "But we don't really talk anymore except for student council."

"You're going to have to forgive him sooner or later, kiddo," he responded.

"Maybe, but I'm—"

"Clarke!" Jasper's voice called on the other side of her door followed by a fierce pounding. "Finn's waiting for you downstairs!"

In a rush, Clarke jumped up from her bed and slid into her flip-flops. "Hey, dad? My friend just got here and we're going out for dinner so can I call you back later?"

"You're not just strategically copping out of this conversation because you don't want to talk about Wells are you?"

The accusation was ridiculous because even though she despised talking about Wells, she wouldn't have made-up an excuse to not talk about him. She'd just lay it out like it was and get it over with. "No, Dad, I promise that my friend is here. Jasper is the one who came in and told me."

"I was just teasing you, squirt. Have fun and be safe. Love you."

"Love you too, Dad." She hung up and then hurried down the stairs two at a time. She expected Finn to be chilling in the living room, but instead found Jasper and Octavia playing Wii on the TV. "Where's Finn?"

"Is he in the kitchen? Does he have a pumpkin?" Jasper recited in a sing-song tone that Clarke recognized from an old cartoon he used to watch.

"Knock it off. Where is he?"

Octavia broke her gaze away from the TV. "I'm pretty sure he was waiting out on the porch for you." She turned back to the TV.

Clarke turned to the door, but paused with her hand on the doorknob. "Jasper, where's Monty?"

Jasper shrugged, keeping his eyes trained on his character. "I invited him over but he said he was busy."

Busy working on the robot that you should be helping him with, Clarke thought. She would have called him out on it right then and there, but Octavia was over and Finn was waiting and something told Clarke that the conversation with Jasper would be longer than a few minutes. She'd just reprimand him when she got home.

"I'll be back later." She stepped out on the porch. Finn was sitting on the top step, so she sat next to him. "Hey."

Suddenly he was holding a bouquet of pink roses and a shy smile adorned his face. "I was hoping you'd come out soon. I was afraid they would be all wilted by the time you finally showed."

Clarke shouldered into him softly but accepted the flowers with a smile. Her cheeks probably matched the shade of the flowers and that was a little unsettling in her opinion. "What're these for?"

Finn shrugged. "Attempt at being romantic. Did it work?"

Clarke grinned. "Maybe. I'm interested to see what else you have up your sleeve."

"I hope the night ends up being to your standards." He helped her to her feet.

Before she knew it, they were in his truck heading into town. They drove past their school and after a few other turns, Clarke recognized the route they were on as the same one they used when they had gone into the woods behind Trikru Union.

There was another few minutes full of jokes and music blaring and then Finn pulled into a decent sized pizza place. "Pizza?" Clarke asked incredulously. She tried not to sound disappointed.

"Not just any pizza place," Finn wagged his finger in her face teasingly. She was tempted to bite his hand, just to see the reaction she'd get out of him. "Give it a chance, Clarke. It's a pretty cool place."

The inside wasn't at all what she expected. The restaurant seemed to be split up into three sections; the largest region was on the far left and housed a large collection of tables and booths around the perimeter. The far right was set up with a bar, a pool table, and several flat screen TVs showcasing a variety of sports. The smallest section was in the far back and had an arcade and a play area like they have at McDonalds. The entire restaurant seemed to accomodate for every type of person, from families with small kids to teenagers on dates to the lonely men in their thirties having their midlife crisis at the bar.

"Impressed?" Finn asked with a smile so she could only figure that he had noticed her wide eyes and mouth slightly agape.

"Impressed would definitely be one way to phrase it."

"Come on," Finn grabbed her hand and led her toward the arcade. As they walked, Clarke kept an eye out for anyone she might recognize from school. She didn't expect too; most of the kids that looked around her age were completely unfamiliar and a few of them even had on Trikru or Mount Weather sweatshirts.

"Looks pretty crowded." Finn careened to the left as a kid as young as seven bolted past him quickly followed by an older girl yelling for him to come back. "Wow, that kid can run."

Clarke grinned. "You really know how to treat a girl."

Finn started toward an empty basketball game with Clarke on his heels. "Care for a game of basketball?"

"I hate basketball," she admitted.

"Well, that makes two of us. But it's the only thing that isn't occupied by a bunch of kiddos so I figured it's better than nothing." Finn fed the machine a dollar and three basketballs rolled down the chute. The time on the clock read two minutes. He sunk a basket and the timer started counting down immediately after the ball hit the rim. He picked up a second and tossed it to Clarke. "Come on, Clarke!"

"What?" she exclaimed, tossing the ball back, "no way."

Finn tossed it back, and she caught it reflexively. "Better make a shot, Clarke, we've got less than two minutes on the clock now."

"I hate you." Clarke balanced the ball in her palms, hoping to aim it at the right angle. If she was able to get enough height, then maybe she'd sink it. With a minute and ten seconds on the clock, she tossed the ball. It bounced off the rim and rolled back down the chute. "I told you I sucked."

"You hit the rim so that's at least something. I've seen guys who miss completely."

"Thanks for trying to make me feel better."

Finn smiled. "Anytime, Princess."

Clarke gave an uptight smile, but Finn didn't seem to notice as he sunk another basket. The nickname didn't sound right coming from him; it wasn't that Clarke liked it when Bellamy called her princess but he had been doing it for so long that she had simply grown accustomed to it. Finn didn't have the seniority to use the nickname, no matter how much she liked him. "Just Clarke, Finn. You know I hate it when you call me princess."

Finn sobered up as the buzzer on the timer hit. "You're right. I'm sorry." He reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Let me make it up to you by getting you something to drink."

She gave him a skeptical look because there was a bar in the place afterall, and she wasn't sure if they were the loose kind of establishment that gave alcohol to underage teens as long as they behaved. Finn must have picked up on her hesitation. "Not from the bar. I meant along the lines of fountain drinks."

Clarke nodded, allowing herself to relax again. She wasn't sure why she had gotten so worried for a second there; Finn wasn't that type of guy. Then again, she had only been friends with him for about two weeks and had only really been on two dates with him. If you counted making out in a radioactive-glowing forest a first date.

"Yeah, that sounds great actually," she thanked him. "Did you want me to come with you?"

Finn glanced around the arcade, probably trying to decide whether there were any guys hanging around that could be threats. Most of the people in the arcade were fourteen or younger except for the occasional parent following their kid around. "Nah, it's okay. This place is busy right now so it might take a few minutes so you might as well find a game you like and I'll join you in a few minutes. Is Coke good or…?"

"Could you get me a Dr. Pepper?"

"Of course." He kissed her on the temple. "I'll be right back." He disappeared into the restaurant.

Clarke whirled around in an arc, trying to figure out what might be appealing to her in a place like this. Arcades never really were her speed—that was always more of a Jasper and Monty thing. Clarke prefered taking walks or reading.

"Did your boyfriend drag you down here on date?" Clarke whirled around to face a tall, tan brunette with dark eyes who had come up from behind to stand next to her. She had on black skinny jeans, a red jacket, and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

Clarke managed a small smile while simultaneously scrunching her eyebrows. Was Finn her boyfriend at this point? They never did make it official. "My friend thought it'd be fun for a change," she decided to say.

"Not really your thing though, huh?" The girl had a knowing smile on her face.

Clarke's smile widened slightly, more genuine than before. "How'd you guess?"

The girl slipped her hands into her back pockets casually. She glanced around the arcade before settling back on Clarke. "Just the look on your face," she grinned good naturedly, "You didn't seem to know what you were doing."

"I've never been here before. Anything worth checking out?"

"They have a pretty decent first person shooter selection, which is where I normally spend my time when I'm here."

"You come here often, then?"

The girl shrugged. "My boyfriend and I would hang out here a lot. I moved last year though, so we haven't gotten to hang out for a few months. I'm actually surprising him because my dad got a house in the area so I moved in with him so I could go to the same school as my boyfriend."

"He must be a great guy to go through all that for."

"He really is. He's really my only true family since my parents have always tended to gloss over me." The brunette suddenly stuck out her hand and Clarke shook it. "I'm Raven by the way."

"Clarke." She dropped Raven's hand. "So you just moved back, huh? Which school do you go to then?"

Raven sidestepped as an elementary aged child ran past. "I was going to Trikru but I'm starting at West Arke in a few days."

Clarke's eyes widened. "West Arke? I go there!"

Raven grinned. "Nice! Now I'll have at least two people to help me out for the first week."

Clarke settled with her back against the side of the basketball game. Raven did likewise. "I'm sure you'll like it. And if push comes to shove, I don't mind adopting you into my group of friends."

Raven chuckled gently, looking at the floor. "Thanks, Clarke."

"Clarke!" She heard Finn's voice over the boisterous crowd. A moment later she saw his long, dark hair. Another second and he was right in front of her, a look of surprised horror on his face.

Raven didn't seem to notice since her smile became the widest and brightest Clarke had seen yet. Surging forward, she wrapped her arms around Finn's neck and hugged him tight. "Finn!"

"Raven?" He uncertainly wrapped his arms around her waist, hands still carrying two tall glasses of soft drink. Instead of burying his head into her shoulder, he kept his gaze firmly set on Clarke.

It was clear that he was begging for her to wait, to hear his side of the story. But the smile was wiped from Clarke's face and suddenly she felt like the biggest idiot on the planet. He had a girlfriend! Of course with her luck the first nice guy she meets after getting over Wells would have a girlfriend.

"Oh my gosh, Finn, I've missed you so much." Raven pulled away from the hug and placed a kiss on his lips like she hadn't seen him in forever. Which she probably hadn't. Clarke felt sick to her stomach.

"I've missed you too," Finn broke the kiss, trying to focus on Raven's eyes but they kept darting back up to Clarke. She watched on with cold eyes. He finally managed to keep his eyes on Raven for more than five seconds. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise," she gushed, "but I moved in with my dad. He has a house down here, so I'm going to school with you again!"

Finn tried to maintain an excited facade, but mostly he had this look of panic. "You're going to West Arke with me?"

"Yeah! Isn't it great?"

"Yeah. Great."

Raven's smile dimmed slightly, seeming to pick up on Finn's lack of enthusiasm for the first time. "So," she turned, suddenly realizing that Clarke was present still, "you guys know each other?"

Finn looked at a loss for words. "We're history partners," Clarke supplied. She technically wasn't lying either. "We've been working on a project and Finn thought it would be good to get out for a while."

Raven visibly relaxed, but she still didn't look overly convinced. "Well, it works out that we all got to meet then."

Clarke picked up on how the friendliness that Raven had shown her previously was replaced by distrusting caution. It seemed like a pretty clear red flag in her mind that it was time for her to go home. "Yeah. But it's about time I head home anyway. My brother is expecting me," she lied.

"Did you need a ride?" The color was finally returning to Finn's face.

Clarke shook her head stiffly. "No, it's fine. I have a ride." She turned to Raven. "It was really nice meeting you."

"Back at you," Raven responded a tad dull, an annoyed glint in her brown eyes.

Clarke exited the arcade. She was almost to the door when footsteps alighted beside her and then Finn was cutting off her retreat to the door. "Hey," he grabbed her elbow, "can we talk?"

"There's nothing to talk about, Finn," she replied calmly. Even though she wanted nothing more than to yell at him and tell him off, she couldn't bring herself to do so. He had been such a good friend to her, she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to completely erase him from her person. "You have a girlfriend. That's that."

"I didn't know that she was coming back." He looked broken and his eyes were pleading with her again. It almost made her want to forgive him.

"She's your girlfriend, Finn. How did you let that slip your mind?"

"She moved to Maine with her mom. We never officially broke up but I didn't think that I would ever see her again." He cupped her face in his hand. "Don't you think we deserve a shot to see if what we have is something worth saving?"

Clarke pulled away from the embrace, trying harder than ever to keep her tears back. He didn't deserve her tears. "Raven is in there waiting for you. I suggest you go in there; I'm not waiting for you and neither will she if you keep her waiting."

She shimmied around him and left him standing in the restaurant. Out in the parking lot, she spotted his truck right away and was tempted to toss a rock through the windshield. It was hard to think that it was just this morning that she had been kissing Finn at the base of the staircase at school.

It was dark out now and the temperature had dropped significantly since she left her house earlier in the afternoon. She was regretting her decision of cut-off shorts. At least she had her flannel.

The only problem at hand now was how she was going to get home.

…

Bellamy's character jumped over a crack in the floor.

At one point, it had been rare for Octavia to be out of the house long enough for Bellamy to get through a half hour of designated video game time without getting interrupted. Now that she was spending more time with Jasper at his house, Bellamy was able to actually improve his skills at Ps4. Not that he liked the idea of his sister being romanced by any guy, but at least he knew that Jasper knew the boundaries. And if push came to shove, Bellamy was confident with Clarke being their appointed babysitter whenever Octavia was at their house.

"Where are you?" Miller asked. His character was crouching behind a crumbling building about fifty yards from where Bellamy had his own guy camped out.

"Fifth floor of that building opposite of you. We have a pretty good vantage point too."

"Cover me."

Bellamy changed his point of few to watch for any threats that might sneak up as Miller crossed the clearing but none came. "Clear," he announced when Miller reached the base of the building.

Bellamy was about to launch their attack when his phone started ringing. Miller groaned as he paused the game. "Shut up. It might be Octavia." He slipped his phone out of his pocket. It was an unknown number. He debated to let it go to voicemail, but for some reason he felt like he recognized the digits. "Hello?"

There was a second of silence. He thought it may have been some kids pulling a prank when a familiar voice asked, "Bellamy?"

"Clarke?" he asked incredulously. Miller's eyes widened in surprise, then leaned in closer to eavesdrop. "How'd you even get my number?"

"I called Jasper who's with Octavia—Octavia gave it to me."

"Oh. What's up?"

"'What's up?'" Miller scoffed. "That's the best you could come up with?"

Bellamy shoved him away. "Clarke, what's wrong? I know you wouldn't call me unless you absolutely had to."

"I was on a date. I need to be picked up and my parents are at work and my brother doesn't have a car."

"Why don't you have Finn do it?" She was startlingly quiet on the other end. Even an idiot could pick up that something bad had went down between them. "Where are you?" She told him the address. "Okay. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Hey, Bellamy?" The softness of her tone surprised him. "I really appreciate it."

"No problem. Sit tight." He slipped his phone into his back pocket and grabbed his keys off of the table. "If my mom or Octavia get home before I'm back, tell them I had to take Clarke home."

Miller threw his hands in the air. "You're not taking me with you?"

Bellamy shrugged with his signature smug half-grin. "She asked for me, Miller. I think if she wanted you there, she would have asked for 'Bellamy and Miller.'"

"She didn't even know I was here."

"Tough luck, buddy." Bellamy closed the door before Miller could make any further protests.

It took some time, but Bellamy finally found the address Clarke had given him. He was surprised that she was on the other side of the township. This was Mount Weather and Trikru turf. Even Reaper turf, come to think of it. Not a place for a Delinquent. What was Clarke doing all the way out here? If she wanted pizza, she should have gone to the place right up in town.

He spotted her right away when he pulled into the parking lot. She was sitting with her legs pulled up to her chest on a big boulder in front of the restaurant. "Clarke?" he called out the window.

Clarke peaked over her shoulder at his car. When she recognized it was him, she slid off of the rock and made a mad dash for the passenger's side. "Thank you," she said as she slipped into the seat.

Bellamy revved up the engine and pulled out on the road. It was funny, because if someone had told him he'd be giving Clarke Griffin a ride, he would have laughed in their faces until tears started overflowing. But now both Clarke and her brother had been in his car in less than a month.

Clarke was unusually quiet. It unnerved him because even when she was mad, Clarke would be going off about it. But now she was still and she was quiet. "There's a blanket in the back if you need it."

Clarke shifted slightly. "What?" she asked.

Bellamy could see her watching him from his peripherals, but he kept his eyes on the faintly lit road. "You look cold." With his free hand, he reached into the backseat and pulled out a blanket. He shoved it into her lap. "Here."

Clarke fidgeted with the blanket, trying to get comfortable. "Is this the One Direction one?" He picked up on the slight smile to her words.

"Yeah," Bellamy half-grinned, "I told you I keep it in my car."

She chuckled to herself. "I guess you did."

They traveled in silence for a few more miles. "Hey," he broke the silence. Clarke gave him a sidelong glance. "I wanted to say sorry that things didn't work out with Wells." She huffed. "Did you want to talk about what happened tonight? I'm willing to listen."

"No offense," she said, "but not really. Maybe some other time."

"I get it."

Bellamy tried not to feel offended, but he still did to a certain extent. He knew he probably wasn't the first person Clarke would go to to talk about stuff like feelings, but he had offered. And she spurned him. Then again, he wouldn't like it if she started poking her nose into his business regarding Roma.

The remains of the ride was silent up until he needed Clarke to clarify the directions to her house once they entered the subdivision. "Home sweet home," he mumbled as he pulled the car to a stop in front of her house. He noticed that Octavia's car wasn't in the driveway.

Clarke tossed the blanket into the backseat. "Thanks again, Bellamy," she eased out of the car. She was halfway across the lawn when she turned around and quietly shouted, "It's nice to know I can at least count on you." Then she was in the house.

Bellamy put his car back into gear and pulled out onto the street. He wasn't sure why, but Clarke's compliment meant a lot more to him than it probably should have.

chapter 11

#the 100 #bellarke fanfiction #bellarke #bellarke au #bellamy x clarke #clarke x bellamy #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #the 100 fanfiction

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imaginegladions · 8 years ago

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Only Heaven Knows

Title: Only Heaven Knows

Summary: You might be winning the hearts of these boys to capture loose souls but every single time they always kissed you and not the other way around.

You think idly that if you ever fell in love you’d kiss him first. If you ever finish catching all 600,000 souls that is.

Pairings: Gladion x Reader and Reader x Everyone.

The tricky thing about winning over guys is capturing their attention. Fortunately, you were practically invisible. It didn’t matter if you were in the same class or in the same neighborhood. You were, as they say, a blank slate. And because you were blank it was easy to mold yourself into the kind of person that suited every guy.

It started with a love for Otome games.

You were bored and numb and somewhat felt that real life was lacking. Every girl was the same. Every guy was the same. Every single day of your life was a routine. There’s a pattern in every person’s behavior and a motivation behind every action. Wake up. Go to school. Remember. Pass your homework on time. Sleep. Meals were to be had between it all. It was all dreadfully empty and so were you. It was like a song endlessly playing on loop with the most repetitive and cheesy love song lyrics you’ve ever heard.

Discovering Otome games opened up your world and suddenly you had a place to use your thoughts, your skills, to be part of someone’s story without the messiness of dealing with real people and petty troublesome feelings.

You were better than great at this, winning over guys in games. Each personality type was predictable and just as you adjusted yourself to suit your means in the real world you also did in your games. And every boy you met became the guy for you. Each of them you won over, you loved.

And then you accepted a challenge from an anonymous user. This is the second thing that changes your life forever.

Because, after you accept it you meet Lillie Virdis.

Lillie was a nice girl. Well, a nice demon, but you get the point. She was tasked to help you capture sixty thousand loose souls living in the hearts of boys in your town by taking its place in their hearts. At first, it was hard to believe that demons existed right under your nose but it was easier to accept as time passed and Lillie remained at your side living with you in your little apartment working with you at your part-time job, and walking with you to pick up the money your parents sent you from where they were working abroad. Lillie became your friend before you knew it and you hadn’t realized you even felt loneliness until she started leaving traces of her around the apartment, her hat on the coat rack, her bag of loose soul capturing things sitting in the corner, and her fashion magazines on your coffee table.

Things start to form another kind of rhythm after your first conquest.

Flag 1: Hau

Hau was… an experience. He was almost undecipherable in the beginning. Lillie said that Loose Souls liked to stay in hosts that held lots of negativity inside of them. So, why Hau? He’s always been known to be a happy person and he’s your neighbor. You’d assumed he forgot you existed too since he hasn’t talked to you since you first came to the school. You always assumed he’d grown bored of you.

So, you were surprised to see that when you first approach him to gauge his personality type so you can win him over he cheerfully calls out your name.

“You…” You blink, temporarily caught off guard. “Know who I am?”

The tilt of your head must have been funny because he laughs. “Of course, I know you! I’d never forget you.” He smiles at you and its brighter than the sun. You almost loose your footing but immediately find him to be your usual funny and sweet guy.

You take weeks and weeks learning about him, getting him to trust you, to want to protect you. And eventually, after a nasty run in with a couple of guys who are absolutely pissed with you for taking up all of Hau’s time, Hau admits that he likes spending time with you more than anyone in the world.

Seeing your chance, you take his face in your hands and stutter out a confession and you’re almost surprised when he lunges forward to kiss you.

The Loose Soul screams as it’s sucked into Lillie’s soul capture ball which she shoves into her bag.

For some reason though, it feels like you hadn’t won. Hau hadn’t once given anything away to you. And even if you did conquer him, it felt like you’d missed something.

The next day, you have Science class with Hau and he’s back to hanging out with the very group he yelled at the day before for antagonizing you. You ignore the twinge of betrayal in your heart and remind yourself that this is a game before going back to your Otome games asking Lillie if there were any other Loose Souls around.

Flag 2: Ilima

And there was one. It was lurking inside of Ilima this time and when Lillie tells you this you groan.

Ilima is your typical pretty boy who the entire campus is in love with (both boys and girls alike). And yet, he is rich enough that the adoration doesn’t phase him. You know that the gentle and kind act wouldn’t work as well for him as it did for Hau. So, you change tactics.

You start using every ounce of knowledge you had and join every single one of his Quiz Bees, effortlessly beating him out in every single one. And instead of getting mad, Ilima is absolutely thrilled by you challenging him.

His conquest seems never ending. That is… until you find out about his bipolarism. He speaks to you in quiet tones at the back of a conference building after being defeated at another Quiz Bee that he was scared of people knowing of his more brutal side, of the side that only wants to win. He says he’s scared but when he battles you its like he’s completely himself, and that you let him be both without being at all afraid of what he might do to you.

And when he leans down, you let him kiss you.

His Loose Soul flies out of his body… and is sucked into a different ball, one that is black and red and held by a boy wearing all black looking like death itself.

“Gladion!” Lillie yells as the blonde floats down and knocks Ilima out.

You blink up at him, watching as he picks up Ilima and with his whispy thin raiment sits him down on a nearby bench. You knew that Lillie’s raiment let you change your appearance and create things temporarily for your conquest but you haven’t seen it used as an extension of her hand before. It’s intriguing to watch.

He must be the brother Lillie always talked about.

“Gladion is strong enough to hunt down Loose Souls by himself!” Lillie chirped as she took the Loose Soul ball from her older brother. “This is my partner!” She introduces you with a twirl.

Gladion stares at you assessing, glaring like he found you somehow lacking.

“So…” You start, nervously shuffling your hands. You curse yourself for acting this way when you are the God of Otome games and can win over any guy but apparently a demon is enough to make you stutter. “Every girl loves a bad boy, huh?” You ask.

You can see the exact moment that he brands you as incompetent and leaves, bored with your blandness.

Flag 3: Kahili

Anger pulses through you as you move on to your next conquest, anger that mostly is aimed at yourself for messing up your first impression with Gladion.

“Why are you so worked up about my brother, anyway?” Lillie asked, her mouth forming a wide ‘O’. “Could it be?” She flew up and twirled in the air. “The beginning of a forbidden love between demon and human?” She snickered.

You swatted at her but couldn’t reach her because of her flight. “It isn’t like that at all.” You insist, spotting your latest conquest.

Kahili was royalty, or so people said, and you didn’t want to say she was straight since she never said anything like that to you but setting that aside it looked like she was not interested in you or anyone.

“Is she asexual or something?” You think aloud.

Lillie blinks at you. “Well, I’d say you have a shot with him as long as you do your best! Game God!” Her raiment shimmered, white light listing from her scarf and turned into a large banner proclaiming GO GO GET HIM GAME GOD.

“I meant Kahili, not-” You stutter, brushing your hair back as you readied yourself to meet Kahili. “I don’t like your brother like that. I met him yesterday.” You roll your eyes and catch Kahili waving to her father and thanking him for dropping her off.

“Sure, you don’t.” Lillie hums.

You realize that Lillie is still talking about Gladion after Kahili enters the sports complex and you shake her. “We have a Loose Soul to catch! Stop playing matchmaker!”

“Yes, Game God!” She salutes and you both run to the sports complex.

You managed to defeat Kahili through tiring means.

Meaning, you had to work at her dad’s hotel for a few weeks and cheer for her at golf tournaments until you finally caught her having it out with some male golfers who were ridiculing her because she was a woman playing the sport because of her father’s money.

“I can see the end.” You mutter as you walk out onto the green and punch the man in the face.

You and Kahili sit outside of her dad’s hotel, Kahili holding an icepack where the man’s hand was imprinted on your cheek. She asked you why you did it.

You looked at her feeling deep sorrow for her. “Because, you deserve everything good in the world. And no man should tell you that you got it with anything other than talent and the kindness of your heart.”

Her eyes shone with unshed tears as she kissed you.

You don’t notice Gladion scoffing as he fled to capture his own Loose Soul on the other side of town.

Flag 4: Molayne

Conquering a teacher was always tricky, but Molayne seemed to make it easy enough by loving his cousin so much.

Your strategy is basically to dote on Sophocles a lot. You dote on him every chance you get and not just when Molayne is around because the kid is shy but he’s brilliant too. You watch in fascination as he created things and stuttered around scientific terms only a grad student would understand. You tell him he’s a genius and he blushes an adorable bright red.

In retrospect, you should have seen it coming.

And yet, you weren’t ready for the possibility that Sophocles would like you which made Molayne a little less affectionate with you.

You decide to wing it and face Molayne anyway.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” You say flatly, trying to gauge his response. You’ve gotten to know him well over the past few weeks but he still stubbornly keeps any emotion other than muted happiness off of his face. “And I know it’s because of Sophocles having a crush on me.”

He doesn’t say much besides support and finally you are fed up with his silence. “You’re so blind! And I don’t just mean because you need glasses!” You frown up at him.

Molayne blinks down at you, genuinely clueless.

“Soph is a sweet kid and so smart. But, do you have any idea how hard it is for me to see him like this crushing on me while I’m in love with his cousin?” You force the words out and find yourself crying too. Perfect, you can use that. “With a teacher no less?” You whimper a little for effect and stumble into his chest, your knees shaking. “It’s you.” You whisper.

You feel his arms wrapping around you as his hands cup the sides of your head.

He’s smiling and tears are falling from his face as he looks at you. “An old man like me? Don’t you think these younger kids- don’t you think they’ll do much better than me? Don’t you think I need to be replaced?” He asks quietly

Your eyes widen, genuine tears falling from your eyes. “No.” You wrap your arms around his neck and lean up. “No one can replace you.”

“You seem to be having fun.”

You look up and sigh as Gladion floats down to stand next to you. You’re still drained from Molayne’s conquest and the sadness you felt at not being able to laugh with him and Sophocles anymore. Lillie had been nice enough to bring Molayne back to the faculty office so that he’d wake up in a familiar environment. “Does it look like it?” You scoff. “Because I feel like each person I conquer takes a part of me.” You sniffle. “And they don’t even remember it.”

You cry as the rain falls over you and him, sitting on the cold rooftop gasping for air.

Gladion watches over you. And when you finally stop crying, hiccups shaking your wet frame, he sits next to you and pulls you into his embrace.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers as you fade into unconsciousness.

You don’t see Gladion for months after and manage to win over Kiawe in the interim. It’s a hollow victory but you let him see that he shouldn’t be afraid of change and are proud to watch as he starts competing in street dance competitions.

Flag 5: Guzma

You completely forget about Gladion by your 5th Conquest and for the first time in a while you can breathe without thinking of him. As if sensing this, Gladion decides to finally reappear to attempt to steal your next conquest.

You wonder why your heart had to go and cling to such an abrasive person. Demon.

“This Loose Soul is far too dangerous for someone like you!” He frowned down at you like you were out of your mind and greatly inconveniencing him, which you probably were to be honest. Greatly inconveniencing him. Because you were not out of your mind, you know exactly what you’re capable of. Gladion is just overreacting.

His words and expression made your blood boil and you spat out the first thing that came to your mind. “Oh? Someone like me? A puny human? Lets not forget it was your kind who asked for this human’s help!” You jabbed a finger at his chest repeatedly to underline your point.

“Lets not forget who already captured his six hundred thousand souls without a human. I know that this soul is dangerous.” He swatted away your hand irritated before his stance went from defensive to slumped in exasperation. “You shouldn’t even be anywhere near this soul.”

You take a step closer to him, ignoring Lillie’s pleas to back down, and take on an aura of confidence. “I am the God of Conquest.” You choke on the last syllable, the invisible ringbinding you to your contract to capture souls tightens around your neck like a noose. “And I have a contract to fulfill.” You turn sharply and walk away. Lillie trailed behind you as Gladion stared at your back, concerned.

You are both almost home when Lillie speaks again. “You need to defeat this soul or we’ll-” She chokes on her own collar.

Nodding, you look at your partner and friend. “We’ll be killed. I know.” Sighing, your mind goes back to Gladion. “I just don’t get him.” “He worries about you.” Lillie says quietly.

You scoff. “Yeah, sure.”

“Gladion has his reasons!” Lillie yelled, running forward and blocking your path. “He had a human partner.” She choked again and suddenly she was crying. “But, Sil was killed by one of their conquests.”

You tried to reach out to her but you were frozen, blinking in shock as she told you her brother’s story.

“It was a girl, she was involved in lots of bad things.” She explained. “He was on his way to give her flowers when the shootout happened and Gladion watched him fall down onto the ground and die.” Lillie’s voice shook with grief. “He had to collect the souls all alone because he still had to fulfill the contract and he was- he was so alone. He has been so alone for so long.” She stared at you, tears streaming down her face. “But, now he’s worrying about you, worried of what might happen to you and its not just because of me. It’s not, so stop belittling his pain! Don’t disrespect the feelings of someone you don’t understand!”

You fling your arms open and pull her into your shaky embrace, letting her heave into your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea. I promise you that I will be careful-”

“You can’t die on us. Not you too.” She insisted.

“I won’t.” You tighten your hold on her and nod. “Trust me, I can do this.”

“Let me join Team Skull!” You shout, doing your best not to visibly shake in front of the squad of grunts now staring at you as though you were a chicken without a head. It had taken you a lot of detentions to finally get your conquest to talk to you and it was only by accident that you found out about his gang at all. Your conquest was the school delinquent, which was one of the more common types in games. Little did you know, delinquents in real life were much more dangerous.

Guzma, your conquest, stepped out of the pack and narrowed his eyes at you. “What did you say?” He asked, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

You shook your head, steeling yourself. “I’m not a violent person. I’m not strong or brave, I’m nothing special. And I’m definitely not at all the kind of girl you’d fall for. But maybe…” You take a deep breath and look him in the eye. “Maybe I can learn to be. No, I will learn to be, if that is what it takes to stay by your side!”

Guzma is silent for a long time before he starts to laugh. “You have guts, kid.” He grins, his face going suspiciously red. He extends his hand to you, head tilted to the side. “Welcome to-”

A loud crash breaks to perfectly set moment and you are shoved into the center of the grunt circle. “This is so touching, Guzma. Really.” An unknown voice echoes through the dark streets. You can’t see past the grunts but even you know it must be a rival gang. “You’re so soft on this one.” He snickered.

“Who sent you? Was it that crazy woman??” Guzma shouted.

A gunshot rang out and a grunt to your left collapses to the ground, red spreading from a hole near his abdomen. You stare at the entrance wound, watching blood seeping out slowly from his body as Guzma’s stocky frame blocks your sight. The school delinquent stares back at you with soft eyes. “You need to go.”

“But…” You blink, your mind still on conquest mode even after the shock of witnessing someone get shot before your very eyes. “What about you?” You asked.

He blinks owlishly at you and smiles. “You’re crazy.” He whispered and suddenly his face is inches from yours. “I can’t let the person I love get shot. Not when someone finally sees me for me.”

When his lips touch yours you are numb and your eyes are open, staring widely as the Loose Soul leaves Guzma’s body and is sucked into Gladion’s soul capturer. “You never needed me. And you won’t ever need anyone to prove your worth to you again.” You whisper as Guzma loses consciousness.

Multiple bodies hit the ground as rival gangs pass out. They won’t remember any of it when they wake up. It hardly matters when Gladion is staring at you, walking towards you slowly. Each echo of each footstep feeling like condemnation.

“Ah, I’ll take him to the hospital.” Lillie picked up the grunt who got shot, her raiment stemming the the blood flow enough for him to get treatment.

You flinch as Gladion comes to a stop in front of you. “Something you want to say?” You asked.

Gladion said nothing, his raiment producing a towel that he folded and started dabbing at your face. “You’re covered in blood.” He says, smiling hesitantly like a deer learning to walk.

You take the towel from him and wipe your face to shield the look of shock written on it.

“Great job.”

You nearly gasp, looking up at the blonde to see if he was joking. “Really?” You stutter, wondering all of a sudden where all that charm and suave you had disappeared to. “I mean, of course. I am the God of Conquest after all.” You babble and ah, you should really stop now or you’ll really regret everything later. “What I mean to say is thank you, for the compliment.”

“I was wrong about you.” Gladion winked, walking backwards. “But, you still have a lot to learn.”

You laugh. “There’s that bad boy charm.”

Gladion shakes his head and grins. You can clearly see why he’s so successful in his conquests. “All the girls want a guy they can fix.” He shrugs.

You cup your hands around your mouth as he takes off. “There’s nothing to fix!”

Flag 6: Gladion

You take a week of leave from school, claiming to be sick, and return to class the week after.

Gladion is more open with you, it’s a complete turnaround from when he used to worry about you from the sidelines. He’s surprisingly easy to talk to when he isn’t being mysterious and brooding. You find out he loves dogs and that he has been going to your school but in a different section under a different last name from Lillie’s. You also learn that he and Lillie don’t have a great relationship with their mother because she wants demons to have ultimate power over all the realms. Most demons aren’t in favor though. It concerns you.

You also learn that you like the way he pets every dog he sees and how his face lights up when he sees stars and the way his face scrunches up when he encounters something new that he can’t figure out like the coffee maker and the school vending machine.

You walk to school with Lillie and Gladion the next day, unable to keep your eyes off of him until you reach the gates and girls start trying to get Gladion’s attention.

“He sure is popular, how didn’t we notice before?” Lillie asked, taking a seat next to your table.

You stare out the window and rub at the throbbing muscle in your chest until your heart starts beating at a normal pace. “This isn’t good.” You mutter.

The moment the class is dismissed for lunch Hau shoots up from his seat and walks over to you like a man on a mission.

Unfortunately, Gladion is walking past your classroom to check if you and Lillie want to get lunch together with him when he finally makes his intentions known.

“I-I really love you. So, please-” Hau’s nose wrinkles in embarrassment as he bows to you. “Please go out with me!” He shouts, his classmates exclamations of confusion taking over the room and starting a riot.

You sit, completely paralyzed until a familiar hand grabs you by the arm. You look up to see Gladion steadying you with his firm gaze, his eyes flicking to his sister. “We’re getting lunch, let’s go Lillie.”

Lillie nods, grabbing hers and your things. “Yes, big brother.”

The room erupts in even more exclamations of ‘big brother?’ and ‘that’s Gladion!’ and oh boy you can already hear the rumors going about of Gladion – the most popular boy in his section – snatching Hau’s crush right from under his nose.

“This can’t be happening.” You mutter. “I don’t attract people when I’m me.”

Gladion opens his mouth like he’s about to protest but seems to decide otherwise. “There’s a chance he remembers the conquest.” He says instead through gritted teeth, continuing to drag you and Lillie until all three of you were comfortably sitting outside on a bench with your bentos out. “It’s never happened before but there is a possibility.”

“What if he really did like you even before the conquest?” Lillie asks dreamily. “It could be one of those loved you since we were kids things.” She sighed.

“No, there is no way.” You shook your head, biting aggressively into a riceball. “My life is never that exciting.” You and Lillie laugh, both of you looking at Gladion when he didn’t laugh too. “You okay?” You ask, head tilted to the side.

“I’m good.” Gladion said, wincing at his own bento. “Did you have to make the hotdogs heart shaped, Lillie?” He asked.

“Only because you are such a worrywart!” Lillie reached over to pinch his cheek but he dodged, almost knocking foreheads with you in the process. “Oh! That would have been a very shojo moment. Good thing you didn’t collide!”

“Yeah, I think after that confession I’ve had enough of shojo moments for years.” You roll your eyes, discussing the merits of wiping Hau’s memory of the confession.

“Yeah. Good thing.” Gladion said, frowning.

Hau catches you again as you’re about to re-enter the building. “Can we talk?” He spared a glance at Gladion and Lillie. “Just us?”

“Sure.” You nod at Gladion and Lillie watching as they entered the school knowing they’d just both sneak out with their flight and listen in. You take a seat with Hau at a nearby bench. “So-”

“I’m sorry for springing it on you earlier, you must have been surprised.” Hau laughted nervously and you respect him a little. It can’t have been easy for him to ask to chat with you like this after that embarrassingly public confession. “I’ve always been a bit pushy. But, I heard from everyone that you came to school with Gladion today and I panicked. I thought he might have… confessed to you or something.” He shrugged.

“Why would you think that?” You giggle and Hau smiles. It doesn’t give quite the same feeling as Gladion’s but its warm and welcoming like stepping into the shower after a long day of work.

“He’s always paid such close attention when people talk about you- I assumed.” His face got red again and he laughed to cover it up, a habit of his that you remembered from his conquest. “I’ve liked you for a long time.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. So, Lillie was right. “Really?” You asked, but your mind was full of Gladion. Gladion’s smile. Gladion worrying about you. Gladion’s panic when Hau confessed to you. Gladion paying attention to you.

“I always thought there was something different about you. I always wanted to talk to you. But, I decided to wait for you to talk to me instead. Kind of stupid isn’t it?” He leaned back, seemingly coming to terms with himself. “But, I see you have someone else in mind already.”

You open your mouth to protest but find that you don’t know what exactly to say. “I-”

“Amazing.” He grins. “He even makes you speechless.” He looks over at a bush, standing up and walking towards it. “You can come out now.”

Gladion walks smoothly out of the bush, brushing himself off. “Hello, Hau.” He greets, looking absolutely venomous in the face of Hau’s contentment.

Hau patted Gladion’s shoulder, walking back to the school entrance. “You two sort this out.”

You were both silent, the sound of Hau’s fading footsteps haunting you both as walls rose to guard you both from each other.

“[Y/N]…” Gladion starts, stepping towards you.

You stand up, the wind pushing and pulling at your hair as you stared him down. “Do you like me?” You asked, voice shaking at the revelation.

Gladion stared stonily at you and sighed. “Yes.”

“Oh God.” Your shaky fingers probed at your forehead and brushed your hair back in frustration.

“I get it, it’s not a great time for this and you don’t need the drama but for what it’s worth I’m sorry.” Gladion said in rapid fire English, looking for once not like the strong and strict Gladion you knew and instead the vulnerable and open Gladion he’d let you have a glimpse of every now and then. “I’m sorry that I can’t be that guy.” He points to the entrance where Hau had been standing prior to the conversation. “I’m sorry that I was a jerk to you when the only thing you did was confuse and surprise me. And I’m sorry for being an idiot and only being nice after you proved your skill to me.”

“I’ll tell you one thing I’m not sorry for.” Gladion stepped forward and took one of your shaking hands in both of his. “I’ll never be sorry for loving you. Not even if the devil himself rises from his lake of fire to smite me.”

You laugh. “Is that a possibility?” You ask, teasing.

“It could be.” Gladion shrugs. “You never know with that guy.”

You throw your head back and let out another shaky laugh. “You know? You’ve always made me feel such weird things.” You whine, rolling your eyes.

“Weird things?” Gladion raised a brow at you and frowned.

“Well.” You clear your throat. “I’ve been playing and winning Otome games for a long time. I mean, I’m the God of Conquest.” You shrug, ignoring the audible yawn Gladion let out. “But, in front of you?” You look at him as if personally offended. “I feel like a little kid with sticky fingers jabbing at the buttons hoping I’m hitting the right ones.”

“Ah, so you’re not immune to my charms after all.” Gladion grinned.

“Ugh, fine.” You give in to his teasing, gracing him with a warm smile of your own. “It’s just like me I guess, to fall in love with literal demon spawn.”

Gladion stares at you for a second. “How do I know this isn’t one of your lines then?” He asked. “That I’m not one of your conquests.”

You think about all those boys you’ve won over and smile to yourself.

“This is how.”

You seized him by the collar and, for the first time ever, you kissed a boy.

#Gladion x Reader #Guzma x Reader #Hau x Reader #Kahili x Reader #Kiawe x Reader #Type: Imagine Fic #Imagine Gladions #Gladion Imagines

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wbouldingblog-blog · 7 years ago

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It’s pouring outside here in Koh Tao. Henny and I are lying exhausted on a delightful double bed with a view of the infinity pool and the beautiful bay, unable to escape our hut for fear of dissolving in the deluge outside (and the fact that Henny is, yet again, asleep). Lucky for you, dear readers, it gives me a moment of respite to catch you all up on the eventful last few days. This is a long one, so put the kettle on and grab a whole tin of biscuits. Treat yourself.

Done? Here we go…

We scavenged a lift from a Polish friend to the airport (shout out to Martyna – hope you enjoy the vodka!) and tried checking in. First hurdle and we trip a little bit – Norwegian needs you to prove that you’re leaving the country before you board the aeroplane, so we had to do some hurried booking of a bus from Bangkok to Siem Reap in Cambodia, our next destination after Thailand. Little did we know that the much simpler solution would be to book a flight from near Koh Tao but instead we opted for a 24+ hour ferry and bus journey from the south of Thailand to Cambodia, including (apparently) a hellish immigration wait at the Cambodian border. Yay.

The ticked booked and shown to the lady at the counter, we set about putting our luggage on the scales. Naturally, Henny had managed to exceed the limit by a couple of kilograms and I, like the hero I am, bravely undid my bag and took some of her shoes, rezipped my bag and lifted it to put on the scales and it fell open. Bugger. Hastily repacking my gaudy Christmas-present pants (thanks mum!), I did the zip up and triple checked its security before putting it on the belt, where it was whizzed away.

The flight to Norway was quick enough and when we landed in Oslo, everything was white – Bing Crosby’s best Christmas song whistled through my head and back out again as it was 11 months too early. When you think of Scandinavian countries, you don’t think ‘Ooh I bet I can get a real bargain here’, do you? Well you can’t. Especially not in a Scandinavian airport. I paid around €16 for a warm brie and bacon (and cranberry sauce) baguette and a small bottle of fanta. Delicious but dangerous for the bank account.

Then we got to the gate and this beauty below was waiting for us. The Boeing Dreamliner 787-9. In the photo below, you can also get an idea of how snowy it was (not just a dirty lens). Teams of bulldozer-type snowploughs were zooming all over the place, reminding me of emergency landing procedures from Thunderbirds, trying to clear the runway and taxiways.

We got on, made friends with a little old norwegian lady next to us (shoutout to Emma, wherever you may be) and settled in for the 10-hour flight. After binge film watching (Despicable Me 3 and King Arthur – the Guy Ritchie version if you must know) and a very tasty lunch/dinner of roast beef, I played the onboard quiz a few times. I fared quite well in the final standings – of the 240+ people on board, I came 2nd, 3rd and 5th with my 3 attempts. Not bad eh? I hoped I might have got a prize, but I think the air stewards were too busy congratulating the winner or something. I bet the winner was in Business Class. Some people have all the luck.

I tried to sleep, but could only manage an hour of real shut-eye before breakfast (Cinnamon and oat biscuit and ham sandwich with a plastic cup of apple juice) and then we were pretty much on the runway at Bangkok airport – much larger and more modern than I could ever have hoped. Certainly puts Berlin’s airports into perspective.

We waited for a while in immigration line (Henny amused herself by worrying if she’d filled out too much of the landing card), collected our suitcases from the carousel and collected some Baht from the nearest cash machine and noticed, much to my dismay, a number of thin, but nonetheless worryingly present, cracks in the shell of my suitcase. Damn. Either I’ll have to buy a new one in SE Asia (dangerous if you watch these Aussie or Kiwi border control shows – the vendors often put naughty things in the linings) or wrap it multiple times in cellophane before the next flight. Decisions, decisions…

Off to the taxi rank we trotted, collected a ticket (a very good system of allotting taxis) and found ourselves heading for a garishly pink Toyota Corolla. You’re nothing in Bangkok, apparently, if you don’t drive a Corolla, a Honda Civic or a Nissan Almera. Naturally, it’s got to have a bodykit on it and be painted some ridiculous colours. Of course, by the time we’d got there it was early in the morning and rush hour in Bangkok, so we had a 1-and-a-bit hour taxi ride past a number of floral tributes to their late king, where I dozed and waited to get to our hotel.

Once there, we had another four hours until we could check in, so we went for a quick toddle around the area and found a couple of very local-looking (and smelling) markets and a beautiful big park in the centre of town, where we walked and wondered about what was coming next. Once the four hours were up, we checked in, showered and napped for a couple of hours before heading to a rooftop bar just around the corner. There, we enjoyed some well-made cocktails and Thai sausage and fried pork with fresh ginger, garlic, coriander and chili and looked out over a gorgeous sunset punctuated by the skyscrapers of Bangkok.

Henny’s done her research and found out that, in 2016 at least, this tower was the tallest in Thailand. I found it fascinating to look at – the deconstructed central sections are an architectural marvel. I’d have loved to have gone inside if I could, but there was so much more to see and do in Bangkok that we didn’t have the time or a reason to go inside any of the offices there, and barging in unannounced would have been just rude.

On the second day, I was very excited. This was the day I got to see my little brother again. I say little, but he’s 22 and actually quite large now. Not large as in fat, but big. Grown up. You know what I mean. He and his mates (shoutouts to Tom and Will) are having a 6-month bonanza all around SE Asia, Australia and New Zealand, before heading to America and then back to the UK. This was the first of hopefully two possible meeting points along that journey, the second being in New Zealand. We met Arthur at his hostel, the Born Free hostel near the Khao San road, which had a hipster-palleted lounge area with excellent wifi facilities. He hadn’t been feeling well the night before (he’d eaten something odd) and opted for some simple steamed rice for breakfast, while we went for some lovely street-foody pad thai, which at 40 Baht (about a euro), was a steal.

The smell is one of the things that’ll stick in my memory about Bangkok; the mix of exhaust fumes and cooking meat which hangs over the whole city, mixed with the occasional and unnerving stench of rank binbags, is unforgettable. Food seems to be a constant occurence in Thai lives; if they’re not cooking it on the street, they’re buying it off someone who’s cooking on the street or carrying it in one of the millions of plastic bags they will pour anything into to take away. Fruits, fried pork balls, orange juice – all in these tiny little environment-hating plastic bags. Given that the packaging is so ubiquitous, there’s a distinct lack of public bins. I often had to carry waste around for hours before I came across a bin or took the Thai approach and chucked it in someone else’s binbags when they weren’t looking.

While Arthur and the boys were recovering from their bus journey to Bangkok, Henny and I took a walk around some of the temples. When I say around, I do mean around, as we couldn’t go in (neither of us met the dress code and were both unwilling to buy some harem pants to change that. They were stunning, carved in such intricate detail and on such a large scale that it was far easier to revere the craftsmen than the deitie(s) represented inside.

We met up with the boys for something to drink and were offered a continuous stream of tat from some of the local street sellers – everything from party paper throwers (best description I can give – they were utterly pointless though) and offensive wristbands (claiming to love everything from various cultures’ male sexual organs to Ladyboys) to cooked scorpions on a stick (about as tempting as it sounds). Nevertheless, we had a great catchup on their progress thus far. Hope they’re keeping a record of it too.

The next day, after a Thai buffet breakfast (Henny ordered chili chicken liver by mistake, but guess who ended up eating it…), we met up with Arthur once again and headed to a cat café, which was, unsurprisingly, Henny’s idea. It was cutesy and kitsch and the cats were very cuddly and funny and the coffee wasn’t too bad either. Then we took a brief walk through Chinatown (nothing really changed except the signage was in Chinese rather than Thai) and said TTFN to Arthur.

Then came the first of what I fear will be many mornings. We had booked a bus from Bangkok to Koh Tao to take us at 6 in the morning and arrive at 3 in the afternoon. All fine thus far – just had to get up at 4.45, which we did, get an Uber across town, which we did, and just arrive at the bus stop in time for the bus, which we didn’t. Of all the mornings the Bangkok government could have chosen to hold the marathon, they chose that one. A marathon needs a lot of streets to run on. Streets which, say, might normally be used by tourists in taxis trying to get to a bus station on the other side of town early in the morning so that they could make the beach paradise which they so craved after the dirt and smell of the city. Streets which were shut off by whistle-happy police. At one point, we just got out and walked (read: ran) the route to the bus stop ourselves, me taking both suitcases and wearing a leather jacket (there wasn’t any room in my suitcase) in a high-humidity environment.

Fate decreed that we weren’t going to get on that bus; my rucksack split open, showering my baseball cap and suncream all over the road. I bent down to pick it up and zip up my bag, dropping Henny’s suitcase in the process. Then, as Henny had gone on ahead to hold the bus, I looked up for her and couldn’t see her. I remembered seeing the Burger King at the end of the Khao San road on the map when we were looking at the route and thought that she must have gone down there. She hadn’t. She’d continued up to the bus station and found the bus. I, in a panic, was running round various (incorrect) streets like a headless, sweating chicken. Eventually, at 6.25 I gave up and tried to find wifi so that I could also find Henny. We managed to meet up, and various curt exchanges and a rebooking process later, found a café in which I could do some translation work and where we could gather ourselves together. That finished, we left our bags with the bus company and headed to a park to try and find the silver lining to this dreadfully black cloud.

What a good call that was. Dappled sunlight and cool shade along with more wildlife than you could shake a stick at (don’t actually – you might frighten it) made this former royal park the ideal place to spend the afternoon. Instead of reading on a beach in paradise, we were reading and snoozing in a park in the middle of Bangkok.

This meant we had to get the dreaded night bus, which we had been hoping to avoid. Nonetheless, at 6pm, after treating ourselves to a cracking foot massage, we headed back up to the bus station and collected our bags. After some initial confusion surrounding which bus was the one to get on and what the proper seating etiquette was, we both popped a couple of travel sickness pills (we were at the back of the bus) and Henny promptly fell asleep. I’d downloaded a couple of Star Trek: TNG episodes on Netflix and managed to watch a couple of those before I too succumbed to the numbing effects of the pills and the sway of the bus.

We were rudely awoken by the lights turning on as we stopped at a Thai service station. They’re much the same as English ones; dirty loos, awful-looking food and prices even Jay-Z would shake his head and tut at. Another 3 hours of patchy sleep later and we were at the pier for the ferry which would take us to the island. After a two-hour wait in a lean-to while the rain hammered down overhead, we got on a very swish looking ferry and zoomed across some rather large waves. People on board made some rather large waves themselves in the sick bags which were handed out pre-zoom. Another hour and 45 minutes later, here we are, in a beautiful hotel room with a view of an infinity pool and the sea. It’s just how it looks on the postcards. I’ll upload some pictures at a later date, but first, I’ve got to go and take them – the sun’s come out now.

Lorra lorra luv,

Will

It all started so well… It's pouring outside here in Koh Tao. Henny and I are lying exhausted on a delightful double bed with a view of the infinity pool and the beautiful bay, unable to escape our hut for fear of dissolving in the deluge outside (and the fact that Henny is, yet again, asleep).

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