#it's also mostly because my mum is dating a man who thinks because it's summer he can go out for the entire day just to come home drunk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

let-it-raines · 3 years

Text

I Hope We Never See October (5/?)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

ao3 : beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

-/-

Emma likes seafood.

She likes seafood, but she mostly eats like a ten-year-old boy. Apparently, there’s a little place near her house called Granny’s where she devours grilled cheese and onion rings like arteries aren’t a thing. It makes him laugh when she tells him because she eats how he’s always dreamed of eating. The only time he ever gets the chance is when he’s with his nieces and they convince him to get them food Elsa and Liam never let them get.

She also likes 80’s music, has been working at the Blue Dog for over half a decade, prefers her kickboxing classes to cycling ones, and her favorite color is blue.

That last one was a bit of a throwaway question, but he asked it anyway. Then, of course, he made sure to let her know that his eyes were blue. He got an eye roll and a ‘shut up’ for that before she started rolling her hips again. It was damn distracting, but he didn’t stop laughing at how frustrated she was that he wasted his one personal question a day on that.

One personal question a day.

It’s childish, but he thinks it works. It keeps the line between them defined. He knows what this is, has done it enough times before to not be blind to it. They’re both visitors in each other’s lives. They have expiration dates, and when there’s an expiration date, there’s no harm in spending time together.

There’s no commitment, so there’s no hurt.

He’s not an expert on Emma Swan, no matter how much she fascinates him, but he gets the feeling she’s avoiding relationships just as much as he is. There is a past hurt there, a damned painful one, and if anyone gets that, it’s him.

But he doesn’t ask about that in his one question a day. He asks for her favorite color and food and if she’d rather hike uphill for 10 miles or swim for 20.

For the record, she’d rather hike because she could sit down and eat along the way.

“Would you look at that?” Emma says as she runs her hands under the water of the sink at the bar. “You, sitting at this bar, again.”

He slices his salmon with his knife and grins. “I tried that Granny’s place, but the food had too much grease. Met a rather charming waitress, though.”

“Let me guess. Red streak in her hair, boobs on full display, argued with the owner the entire time?”

“How’d you know?”

“Because that’s Ruby, my best friend.”

“Is she now?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“Is that your personal question of the day?”

“Nope,” he says, taking a bite of his food. “I’m saving that for a later time.”

“A later time,” Emma repeats, like she’s considering the words. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back against the bar. “What makes you think you’re going to be seeing me at a later time? This isn’t enough for you?”

He looks around them and leans closer to her. “Too many clothes.”

Emma laughs, legitimately, and that feels surprisingly good. “I’m literally in a tank top and shorts. That’s about as dressed down as you can get.”

“I was talking about myself, actually. There are too many clothes on me, but it’s nice to know you think so highly of yourself.”

That gets him another laugh and a shake of her head, and he likes that too. He may have no real inclination to become overly attached to her, but he can at least admit to himself that he enjoys her company.

“Shut up.” Someone calls Emma’s name from across the restaurant, and she holds her arm up, putting up one finger. “I get off at The Oaks at eleven. I’ll drop by your place if I’m not too tired.”

“Why the hell are you working there so much?”

“I like the money. And, Jones, that counts as your personal question of the day. I’ll see you later...maybe.”

She grins and winks before walking away, and he swears she puts a little extra sway in her hips. Killian shakes his head as he feels his own smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What a bloody woman,” he whispers to himself before spearing another piece of his salmon.

-/-

“Right there,” she moans. “Like, seriously, right there. Don’t fucking change anything.”

Kilian smiles against her, but he’s quick to return to what he was doing. Emma’s legs tighten over his shoulders, her hands yank at the sheets, and as much as he is throbbing right now, it’s bloody glorious to have her like this. The filter is gone, so too are the reservations, and he gets a bit of satisfaction knowing this is him doing this to her.

His only skills aren’t on the football pitch after all.

He is definitely a bastard for thinking that right now, but he’s never claimed to be otherwise.

“Fuck,” Emma huffs after she comes down from her high. Her legs shiver over his shoulder, thighs tightening so all the sounds fade for a moment, but then her legs fall and all sounds come back in screaming color. “What did I do to deserve that so early in the morning?”

“It’s ten, love.”

“Yeah, that’s early on my day off.”

Killian laughs and kisses the inside of Emma’s thigh before making his way up her body, planting a final one underneath her collarbone before he collapses on his side of the bed and pulls the sheets above his waist.

“It’s not early for the rest of the world.” He smiles, which she doesn’t appreciate, and she sinks further into the bed, yanking the covers over her. He can still see her flushed cheeks and the slightest content smile on her face. “You should try it sometime. See the sunrise, dodge early morning joggers, eat breakfast at a normal time.”

“Trust me, I’m usually up early enough to want to drive into the early morning joggers while I have a Pop Tart hanging out of my mouth. My summer schedule is just...it’s different than usual.”

He has questions about that. It’s something she’s alluded to before, but he doesn’t know if she’ll count that as his question of a day.

He’s thirty-five years old, and he doesn’t know if he can ask the woman he’s sleeping with more than one question about her life. He knows he’s fucked up a lot, but this seems to be the culmination of several screw ups in his own life.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on that. Well, no, he has all the time in the world, but lately, the boredom has dissipated, the loneliness too.

Lately, he’s got a damn good distraction, and he’s not about to fuck that up.

Emma flips over on her side, her hair a wild, curly mess. She used his pool last night and didn’t wash her hair after. It’s made it even crazier than usual. He thinks he likes it. Makes her seem less reserved.

His phone rings on his bedside table, and he leans over to pick it up.

“Hello, darling.” Emma’s brow raises, but he ignores her. “How are you?”

“Good,” Elsa says. “We’re all good. The girls are in the garden right now, running around and getting all their energy out. I haven’t heard from you in a few days.”

“I’ve been...busy.”

Emma’s hand finds his thigh, and his leg jumps before steadying. She is not about to do what he thinks she’s about to do. Bloody hell.

“Busy?” Elsa asks, as Emma’s hand walks a little closer to his groin. “Doing what? Have you made friends?”

“Why do you always ask me that like I’m a child?”

“Because you’re basically my baby brother.” Killian laughs and then hisses as Emma’s hand wraps around him. She smirks, obviously satisfied with herself, and he knows she’s doing it for the reaction above anything else.

Tease.

He doesn’t mind.

Except this is a poor idea.

“I believe I’m actually older than you.”

“Semantics.”

He laughs again, and Emma’s hand starts working a little more. Fuck. He needs her to stop, and even though she’s doing delicious things to him, she is looking away, acting as bored as can be. And maybe she is, but then he sees one corner of her mouth tick up.

“Mum, is that Killian?” he hears Ally ask, echoed by a squeal from Sophia, who is obviously having the time of her life. There’s a bit of a shuffle, some muted voices, and then his niece’s voice comes through. “When are you coming home?”

“Hello, Ally,” he says, his voice going high when Emma moves her thumb. “How is one of my favorite nieces doing?”

Emma immediately stops and yanks her hand away, practically falling off the bed. She catches herself and kicks up, moving the comforter up and nearly pulling it off him.

“What the actual fuck?” she whispers hisses, slapping him.

He ignores her as Ally asks again when he’s coming home.

“At the end of September, sweetheart,” he promises. “I’ll come home, and then I am going to kiss you right on the cheek.”

“Ew,” she complains, and he can imagine her nose scrunching.

“I also might give you a present.”

“I like that better.”

“Good. I thought you would.” he watches Emma get up and pull a t-shirt out of a drawer. It’s an old Man. United shirt, and he pretends that doesn’t do a damn thing to him, especially since she was just working him up a minute ago. “Listen, Ally, darling, will you hand the phone to your mum? I - ”

“Sophia, that is my hat! Do not wear it!”

And then the line goes dead, and he wonders how long it’ll be before Elsa gets back to her phone and calls him back.

“You let me do that to you while you were on the phone with your niece?” Emma mumbles, pulling the shirt down then pulling her hair into a mess of a knot on the top of her head. He’s not sure if she’s annoyed or amused. “I hate you.”

“Technically, at first it was my sister-in-law,” he corrects, tapping his head.

“That doesn’t make it any better.” Emma gets back in the bed, pulling the comforter all the way up to her chin, and then she shuffles a little further into the bed before sitting up against the headboard and groaning into her hands. “I am mortified.”

“I did stop you when Ally took the phone,” he points out before pulling at the arm of her shirt. “Nice shirt.”

Killian stands from the bed and walks toward his bathroom, grabbing his briefs along the way. “It’s comfortable,” Emma says. “Is this the team you played for?”

Killian stops, the tile cool against his feet, and then keeps moving, leaving the door cracked as he gets half dressed and starts brushing his teeth. As good as it was a few minutes ago, the mood is gone.

Especially now.

How the hell does she know he used to play football? And how long has she known that? Is that why...no, that couldn’t be why, but he knows that’s why a lot of women have.

“A long time ago,” he says, spitting out toothpaste. “I was with Chelsea when I retired.”

“Is that another team?”

“Uh, yeah,” he laughs, continuing to brush his teeth but sticking his head out of his bathroom door. “You didn’t know that?”

Emma shrugs as she types on her phone. “I don’t know anything about soccer. I only know you played because Ruby internet stalked you a few weeks ago and showed me your Instagram. I literally thought you were just one of those adults who is really into his hobbies.”

Killian nearly lets out a sigh, but he stops himself and turns back around to the sink to spit again before rinsing his brush. He looks up at the mirror. His hair is disheveled, there are lines around his eyes and on his forehead, and his stubble is growing to the point where a beard is beginning to form. He’ll shave later.

So Emma doesn’t know anything about football then. Or him, for that matter. He’s not sure he entirely believes her, that she didn’t look up any more about him, and he doesn’t like that uncertainty. Usually, when he meets someone, they have the upper hand and know the surface layer of all the dirty details of his life.

They usually don’t care to find out the real stories. Not that most of them redeem him in any way.

“Not a hobby,” he says, taming his hair with his hands. “It was a damn good job.” He leaves the bathroom and leans against the doorframe. “You ever play?”

She laughs and puts her phone down. “No.”

“Not even as a kid? Come on. I hear every lass in America plays as a kid.”

“Is that your question of the day?”

Damn. “No.” Killian walks toward the bed and puts his hands on either side of Emma’s head on the headboard, leaning in close. He sees her chest rise, and he smirks. “My question is to ask you to stay in bed with me all day. What do you say, Swan?”

She sits up, and her lips lightly brush against his mouth when she talks. “You should have asked me about the soccer because I was already planning on staying here the entire day.”

“Really now?”

“If we can get crepes delivered from this place that’s, like, ten minutes from here.”

Killian kisses her, long and slow until there’s heat simmering low in his belly. “As you wish.”

-/-

Emma doesn’t come over every night. Nor does he go to her place. But it seems that way as July rolls by, full of hot days that seem to linger forever. Killian finds himself busy during the days. Emma usually has work early in the mornings, so if she’s staying over, she leaves before eight. He doesn’t know how she has time to breathe working at both the Tavern and The Oaks, but she makes it work. When she leaves, he gets up and uses the gym in the basement of the house, going through his tried and true routines before he laces up his trainers and either runs on the beach or on the sidewalks through his little area of the vineyard. He finds the sidewalks are better for his knees, so he tends to stick with that and leaves walking on the beach for his afternoon phone calls with Elsa and the girls or Ariel and Eric.

It’s a routine, one that changes during the day, but for the first time since he got here, he doesn’t hate every damn day. He doesn’t spend his time actively having to try not drink or thinking about Liam or football. He practically buys out a local bookstore and goes through the novels faster than he has in years. He visits different restaurants, museums, goes along with some tourist activities he finds online, and he explores any shop that strikes his fancy.

And while his routine changes, there is one constant: he eats a meal at the Blue Dog Tavern.

At first, he thought Emma would kick him out for it, but now, she often comes and sits with him for a few minutes or sends him a drink from her office. He always sits in Ashley’s section and lets her talk about her growing belly even if he knows little about pregnancy, and he spends at least an hour eating and watching all the people around him.

It’s a hell of a lot better than the twenty-four-hour diners with sticky floors and bad coffee.

Killian shoves his keys in his pocket and pushes open the door to the Blue Dog. Marina greets him, telling him to seat himself anywhere in Ashely’s section, so he goes to his favorite booth and settles down. He can’t see the television from it, so it’s the perfect spot to completely escape from the world with no risk of his past showing up right before his eyes.

He may be feeling better, may be able to have a drink or too at night without wanting to have five more, but he knows he’s possibly only one bad day from it all coming undone, the thread unraveling faster than he can wind it back up.

“Tea or coffee today, Killian?” Ashley asks, notepad in hand.

“Tea, I think, but not the blasted stuff you gave me last time.”

She laughs and writes down his drink order. “Do you know what you want to eat already or should I come back?”

He hands her the menu. “The daily special and a side salad.”

“Perfect. I’ll be back with that as soon as possible.”

“No need to rush,” he says, smiling. “Is - ”

“She’s filling out orders for next week, but I’ll let her know you’re here.”

Ashley winks before walking away, and Killian wonders what the hell everyone in this restaurant thinks of him and Emma. It must be peculiar, but if he’s picked up anything from Emma, it’s that she likely doesn’t share much about her personal life with her employees. She surely won’t tell him that he’s the man she’s sleeping with for the summer, but they might pick up on that on their own.

The food here is good, but it’s not every day good.

He’s finished his salad and half of his sandwich when she comes out from the back. Today, she’s already in the black dress she wears to The Oaks, and her hair is pushed back into a ponytail. She looks exhausted, and unfortunately, the reason has nothing to do with him.

“I only have a second to say hi,” she says, sliding into the booth and grabbing a roll from the basket, breaking off a piece and popping it into her mouth. “We are having an issue with our fish orders, and it’s an absolute nightmare.”

“That sounds like I won’t be ordering any fish this week.”

Emma takes another bite of her bread. “I wouldn’t if I were you. Do you want to come to my place tonight? I’m off at ten.”

“Sure.” He picks at the bread on his sandwich. “Though, the last time I was at your place, that damn crab pillow ended up in the bed, and I didn’t appreciate that.”

Her nose scrunches with her laugh. “I hate that thing too, but Ariel loves it.”

“You live in that house the entire year. Why don’t you redecorate it for your taste?”

Her shoulders tense, and she stops chewing before slowly starting again. He already knows this is going to be his personal question of the day. Sometimes she forgets about it and lets the conversation flow freely, but when he hits a nerve, she’s more on her guard.

He gets it. He can be the same way.

“Personal question,” she says, and he knows her better than he should. “And I’ve redone my bedroom and little bits in the kitchen and living room, but I don’t know. I guess I keep it how the Fishers have it because it’s their home. There are memories there, and I don’t want to take any of those away for when I do eventually get another place. It’s....it’s good to have a family home with memories.”

Killian arches his brow, but Emma looks away, picking at the roll again. He never really had a family home, not after his mum died and his dad became obsessed with using Killian’s football skills for his own fortune, but he likes that sentiment.

A family home with memories. Good ones. That would be the dream.

“What about you?” she asks, changing the subject before he can press further. “Aren’t you excited to get back to your place where all the stuff is yours? You’re living in a place that’s not your own, so I’m sure you’re ready to get back to your family.”

She doesn’t mean anything by it, but her words cut. He’s here because he lost the one person in his family who he was closest to, but he doesn’t want to talk about that, not now. This is supposed to be a good time. It isn’t supposed to be about dark histories.

“I’m enjoying my time here,” he answers honestly. “There’s this woman who is an absolute spitfire, and she’s been occupying most of my time. I’ve been, well, metaphorically tied up in bed too much to think of returning home.”

“Ha, ha,” she monotones with a roll of her eyes. “That’s not what I - ”

“Hi!”

They both turn, and Emma’s friend Mary Margaret is standing there, bouncing back and forth on her toes. “Hi, Marg,” Emma says. “You’re early.”

“I know. I got finished tutoring early, so I thought I’d drop by. I didn’t know you’d have...other company.”

“Nice to see you again,” Killian says, nodding at Mary Margaret.

“Yeah, nice to see you.” Mary Margaret seems hesitant, like she didn’t meet him weeks ago at dinner, and he wonders just how much she knows about his arrangement with Emma. From what he’s learned, they seem close, but he also knows Ruby is Emma’s more...accepting friend. “How are you?”

“I’m good, love. Just badgering Emma at work. I’m surprised she hasn’t kicked me out yet.”

“Annoy me a little too much, and I will.” Her ankle hooks with his under the table, and Killian bites his lip to keep from smiling too much. “So, what’s up, Marg? Why’d you want to drop by? Have you heard of this thing called phones?”

Mary Margaret chuckles before sliding into the booth next to Emma. Emma’s ankle unhooks from his, and he tucks his feet under the booth. “So, you know how David wants to have that big barbecue for all of our friends and neighbors?”

“Yeah, you guys do it every year because you’re insane.”

“Anyway,” she says, playfully rolling her eyes, “we were wondering if we could get the Blue Dog to cater some of the sides. I know you guys don’t cater, but we could pay extra. Please.”

“You do know there are restaurants who do cater who could handle this?”

“Yes, but we love the food here. Killian gets it, right?”

“Uh, yes,” he mumbles, not sure what he’s supposed to say. From Emma’s death glare, he knows he’s chosen incorrectly. Bloody hell. “I love it.”

“Exactly,” Mary Margaret says. “We’ll pay extra. Promise. In tips so the staff can get it instead of the owners.”

Emma sighs and sinks into the booth, crossing her arms over her chest. “I need to know the order at least two weeks ahead of time, and it’s going to take me some time to figure out how much you guys need to pay.”

“Ahhhh, perfect!” Mary Margaret hugs Emma before sliding out of the booth. “You’re the best! I can’t wait to call David! Oh, and Killian, you should come too. It’s on August 14th. We’d love to have you there.”

Killian scratches his ear and nods, flashing her a tight smile. He doesn’t think Emma would welcome him at a party full of her friends, so he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable no matter how nice it might be to be in a large group of people.

“He’ll be there,” Emma says, surprising him, and he feels her toe tap his shin. “If he can make it, of course. You know, he has a very busy social calendar.”

“I wonder why that is, darling.” He winks, making Emma smile, and he taps his toes into hers right back. “I’ve heard you keep pretty busy as well.”

Emma’s mouth gapes before closing, and her green eyes widen, lashes nearly hitting against her brows. “Ass.”

“Well, I know you like - ”

“Okay.” Mary Margaret claps her hands together. “I’ve got to go. Emma, I’ll send you the menu after I talk to David tonight. And Killian, we really would love to have you there.”

“I’ll see,” he says as he fights to keep from smiling too widely. “May I recommend the cheddar bites for the menu. They’ll kill you, but you’ll enjoy it.”

“I have never once seen you get the cheddar bites,” Emma scoffs.

He leans over the table, pressing his chin in his hand and smirking the way he knows she likes. She tells him he’s obnoxious when he does it, but sometimes he can see past that hard shell exterior. “I’m full of surprises, darling.”

“That you are, Jones. That you are.”

-/-

Tag list: @qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion @dramioneswan @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight

#I hope we never see october #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan

93 notes · View notes

sinkix · 4 years

Text

- What your fav Haikyuu!! Character says about you│Karasuno edition -

Obviously these aren’t meant to be taken too seriously lol. I’ll probably make this into a series at some point where I include the other teams idk this took me way too long to do JWIDJQENWKJQFN WE’LL SEE. ENJOY! <3

2D men are infinitely superior I said what I said.

Hinata:

A sucker for motivational speeches or quotes and they always get you hyped up.

Very ambitious and positive despite frequently getting lost in life

Not as innocent as you seem but still a cinnamon roll lololol

You probably eat fruit as a regular snack n ppl judge you for it

Highkey a dumbass but in a very endearing way so people can’t help but like you

Summer is probs ur fave season

Definitely own several plushies and definitely get defensive about it

The friend people go to when they need cheering up.

You either go to bed at 8pm or 3am no in between.

Your texting style consists of several messages as opposed to one paragraph/sentence with the use of MANY emojis.

You 100% fuck with pineapple on pizza.

Got your head stuck in a cat flap that one time.

Have a hella low alcohol tolerance or don’t drink at all.

Hella clueless when it comes to people flirting with you, they have to hold a neon sign in front of you for you to get the message

“Oh you were flirting with me?” “I was every day for 5 months but thanks for finally noticing”

Definition of a tab hoarder, your pc/laptop frequently crashes because it can’t handle that many but you refuse to get rid of any.

Always get toothpaste stains on your shirt no matter how careful you are.

“Wait we had homework???”

Nishinoya:

You often get random bursts of energy outta nowhere or at 2am and have no clue how to handle it

You can’t help but head bang and scream the lyrics to your fav songs.

Probably have a hella diverse music taste.

Likely an active/outdoorsy person who either does sports or wants to.

Vvv loyal, type of friend you can call in the middle of the night and you’ll be there.

Chaotic good or Chaotic neutral.

You’re either one of the most responsible people in the room or one of the most fuckin chaotic and irresponsible lmao no in between it just depends on your mood.

Frequently pull all nighter’s and doesn’t even feel guilty about it

Chug soda like it’s water.

An extrovert or one of those introverts that are bat-shit once you actually get to know them.

You have zero shame, can and will run across the street stark naked for a cheeseburger and a can of sprite.

Like fuck yeah who wouldn’t for a burger and some sprite y’know??

Despite being a whirlwind you are actually a hella chill person to have as company.

You own a skateboard or want to.

Own at least one pair of converses or vans.

Probably have a bucket list or tons of future plans for travelling/adventures stored in your head.

You really want a dog and would call it something like Dexter or Human Destroyer 9000.

Likely have had several hair colour phases.

A slut for doritos.

You ate glue once as a kid and it was kinda okay and that fact still haunts you.

Tanaka:

Listen to rap more than any other genre and ur playlist is fire

Punched dry wall that one time

Probably have several piercings and plan on getting more

Prefer sports bras to regular ones.

Intimidates outsiders but your friends don’t take you seriously in the slightest lmaoaoaooa

Ppl find it hard to approach you but you’re actually super chill so you get sad

Definition of that Kanye meme “before you talk to me” >:( “after you talk to me” :)

Probably don’t trust people easily

Type of person that once you’re challenged/dared to do something they WILL do it regardless of how stupid bc you hate being called a pussy.

Went through a phase where you only listened to Eminem.

Probably is/was the class clown or wished they were.

You have virtually no patience and a pretty short temper lmao.

You’re a go-getter and hate being told you can’t do something

Definitely snuck out the house several times as a teen.

Walks barefoot outside a lot bc fuck shoes lol

The pairs of shoes you do own are mostly worn down sneakers you refuse to swap out.

You’re that asshole that wears socks with holes in for the sport of it and it doesn’t phase you in the slightest. (dw I do too lmaooao)

Could probably bench press someone’s dad

Enjoy’s drinking coffee.

Kageyama:

Such a picky eater bitch god damn.

Usually hella hydrated and judge people that don’t drink enough water.

Eats spoonfuls of chocolate nesquik powder when no one is looking I said what I said

You like stoic and Tsundere guys who have the outer emotional capacity of a brick wall.

You’re probably the same in that sense and don’t enjoy letting people know what you’re thinking/feeling

Poker face 90% of the time

Type of person to pretend not to find a joke funny but then crumble and start crying with laughter.

Probs an introvert

Once when someone asked you what you wanted for Christmas you responded “to be left the fuck alone” and it still applies to this day.

like fr you just wanna be left alone man but ppl keep bothering you.

You HATE it when people tell you to smile and quite literally take it as an insult.

Your bedtime is 9pm and you stick by it religiously

Always smell really good like damn what you got on??

The most you do with your hair if it’s long enough is throw it in a pony tail and call it a day.

Either have really nicely manicured nails or you’v chewed them down to the nub no in between.

You hate to admit it but you doubt yourself a lot and it really frustrates you.

Probably wet the bed a lot as a kid and you’re still salty about it.

lololol bed-wetter Kags lover

Audibly snorted typing that I’m sorry.

Probably had a ._. face reading that since ur usually hella unamused.

Cute awkward dork though behind that facade it’s just most people don’t see it.

So critical of yourself like chill

An earth sign or an Aquarius idc.

Do not know how to reciprocate a hug but desperately need one

When people flirt with you you somehow manage to make them intimidated with your responses and scare them off.

You called your teacher “mum/dad” once and you get Vietnam flashbacks to this day.

Daichi:

You probably have a daddy kink and lowkey daddy issues with it

Very supportive friend who has a lotta patience

Hella determined and humble.

Mostly wear black because it’s just much easier than colour coordinating and plus you just prefer the simplicity, but you’re pretty vibrant as a person.

The one who stays sober at parties to drive the others home.

Probably haven’t been in many relationships but still do enjoy romance.

seems stern but is actually very friendly and enjoy company bc you don’t like spending too much time by yourself.

Honestly just wants to chill out, go to bed and read a book.

A coffee connessieur but mostly just drinks instant bc ur too lazy to make it properly and just drink it black.

Very reliable.

Often get stuck with most of the work during group projects lololol

People frequently ask you for the answers to the homework/assignment and it really depends on your mood and how charitable you’re feeling as to whether you’ll lend it to them

Low-key a sadist.

100% Old soul

Despite this you are a fuckin dork and have quite an immature but really funny sense of humour.

You have a thigh kink.

Def grew up reading wattpad smut and most of ur sexual knowledge stems from that

probably prefer manga to animated versions

Absolute pro at winged eyeliner and looks v good in it.

Probably give lectures even without realising it.

Shamelessly watches the nature channel for hours on end and what of it.

Honestly just done with everyone’s shit lmao

Sugawara:

Either are the mom friend or the one the mom friend has to look after.

You vibe with pastel colours

Your fav season is either spring or autumn.

oversized hoodies and knitted sweaters are your vibe.

Enjoy drinking herbal tea

Likes the smell of rain and will purposely step outside after a storm and S N O R T the smell of damp concrete. (srry if ur from some dry ass place like nevada lmao it rains alot in the UK soooOOOoO)

Quiet but have a really creative imagination and has one HELL of a loud voice when they’re pissed off

like,, I wouldn’t dare get on ur nerves ion want my ear drums bursting damn.

Hoards flavoured chapsticks and scented lip gloss

Either did or still have your Harry Potter house in your bio and it was probably Hufflepuff.

Gives people advice that they are fully aware also applies to themselves but doesn’t follow it LMAO.

Listens to K-pop and several Korean and Japanese genres.

Played a dating sim once and you enjoyed it but ur still ashamed and refuse to ever talk about it.

Smells like lavender or something hella floral

Probably reads a lot of Yaoi and no one else knows but you.

Would 100% own a chinchilla

Read Killing Stalking and it messed you up for weeks.

Asahi:

The one who was trying to flirt for months and the other person never got the hint

Probably a really pretty crier and vibe with the mascara running aesthetic.

You tear up easily lol.

Probably a water sign.

Low-key a bad bitch though

Looks really good in red lipstick

That one person who’s v attractive but completely unaware and v insecure.

That one friend who seems so soft and innocent but can turn into a banshee when need be.

Crying is your therapy.

You overthink a LOT and it often stops you from achieving what you want.

Actually have a lot of willpower despite ur sensitivity.

Was def a pushover as a kid and still have a chip on your shoulder about it.

Hella artsy and day dreams a lot.

You attract broken souls and often get turned to when people’s problems need fixing yet you’re a total mess yourself

Listens to Girl in red while questioning your sexuality

which you do a lot.

You hate being put in a box or labelled.

Gave up on that hobby that one time and you really wanna get back into it.

Always have at least one hair tie on your wrist that’s basically an accessory at this point.

Own a phat ass fish tank with hella pretty fishes bro it’s such a vibe say hi to Nemo for me.

Yamaguchi:

Too scared to ask for extra ketchup packets so you get your friend to ask instead.

Probably have anxiety.

The time you stuttered once when introducing yourself frequently gives you cringe attacks.

Major animal lover and prefers them to people.

Talked to a tree once and it was a pretty cool experience.

Wear a lot of pink or cute colours and radiate babi energy.

Likely wear skirts

Wear those aesthetic planets necklaces and your tumblr is filled with space related art and themes.

Enjoy staring up at the clouds and figuring out what animal they are.

Has a lot of secrets that they probably tell to their cat.

dw ur cat isn’t a snitch they got you covered.

“meow”

yeah they definitely didn’t just try to reveal ur deepest traumas to your cousin.

If you don’t have a cat you probably would want one and would call it Mittens or sumn.

You’re whipped for freckles and anyone that has them instantly becomes 1000x more attractive to you

Either like 5′2″ or 5′10″ no middle ground

Definitely own a turtle or rabbit and if you don’t then you should.

Forgets your assignments but the professor lets you off because you’re so nervous they can’t scold you.

Oversleeps at least 2 times a week

Will not get up before 1pm on a weekend

Wall flower at parties but people still approach you bc you are so friendly and kind.

Social anxiety intensifies.

Always get’s called on in class when you haven’t been paying attention and it really troubles you.

Has a minimum of 3 blankets on your bed that you cocoon yourself in.

Tsukishima:

Your attracted to snarky assholes.

Sarcasm and insults are your form of flirtation and you get immediately turned off if they can’t take it or get upset.

Probably shy away from your feelings

Random flashbacks to embarrassing events frequently keep you up at night

Judge peoples fashion choices as they walk past you but actually have a really good eye for what works and what doesn’t.

You look like you have your shit together and you kinda do for the most part.

The quiet kid in class that’s listening to some loud ass screamo or rock n roll’ but ppl have no idea.

Definition of the glinting anime glasses pushed up your nose bridge cliche.

When you make a mistake you question all your knowledge and abilities but no one else knows that about you

Refuses to cry since you view your emotions as a personal weakness

If someone hugged you you’d get VERY uncomfortable.

Physical contact is not your forte

Probably a 5′0″ demon.

Would peg a man to assert dominance but you’re actually a lil bitch.

Knows the answer to the question they can’t solve.

Doesn’t study as much as they should but somehow still gets good grades.

Really likes french fries and the taste of strawberries.

Just wants to be left alone

Ennoshita:

The one friend that gets talked over and it really pisses you off but you’re too nice to say anything.

Seems really passive but can actually be hella confrontational when they wanna be

No tolerance for peoples bullshit

Really stable and just an overall reliable person.

People often forget you’re in the room lmao but it’s okay you’d rather listen anyway.

Actually has a really interesting mind and a lot to say but mostly keep it to yourself unless they’re your friend

Answered for someone else in attendance a few years ago and it still bothers you.

People often come to you to vent and you’re chill with it

Don’t stand out much but honestly it doesn’t bother you

Can and will get through an entire book/series in a matter of 3 days.

Quite a minimalist and organised for the most part

You look like you have your shit together and you def do.

Have a controversial taste in pizza.

You have more acquaintances than friends but the ones you do are a v tight knit circle.

Will re take a quiz several times till you get the character you wanted

Radiate Virgo and Libra energy.

Kiyoko:

Type of person to say “step on me” as a way of complimenting and you mean it literally.

Both a sadist and masochist

When someone tells you their not interested it just makes you want them 100x more and it frustrates you why are you like this.

Doesn’t compliment often but when you do it’s really heartfelt.

Looks like your silently judging people but in reality you really couldn’t care.

Just kidding you low-key judge them anyway.

Very picky when it comes to partners.

Independent but has random hella clingy moments.

Despite being quiet, you are capable of roasting a bitch alive if they test your patience.

Like I would NOT wanna get on your bad side

You could deadass send them to therapy, their emotions fenna need some aloe vera for that burn.

Just really calm and relaxed tbh so people enjoy being in your company even though you don’t talk much.

When you do though it’s usually something really interesting or funny.

You just don’t see the point in talking if what your saying doesn’t hold any value??

You hate small talk and would rather slingshot yourself off a skyscraper than partake in it.

Your face is easy to read and you make no effort to hide it.

If your in a bad mood they WILL know.

Look like your plotting someones demise or questioning life’s theories but in reality you’re really just thinking bout what you want for dinner.

Honestly just a sweetheart tbh.

Low-key have a staring problem.

Has really neat and cursive handwriting like who tf taught you that.

Yachi:

Frequently says something then panics that it could be misinterpreted

You overthink literally everything you have ever said and the actions you haven’t even committed yet

Really likes the taste of sherbet

Could cut a bitch if they needed to

You spend most of your money at Urban Outfitters and don’t regret it.

have an assortment of colouring pencils that ppl always try and borrow and never give them back.

You highlight the shit outta your papers and never read them again.

Really like the smell of peaches

Probably have a v interesting earring collection.

Hoard water bottles in your room and you feel majorly guilty about it.

The taste of honey disgusts you but you eat it anyway for some reason.

Somehow managed to burn rice and solidify soup.

You shouldn’t be trusted in the kitchen but you try your best regardless.

I feel like that applies to most things in your life

Like yeah you fucked it up but like you’re trying your best lol cmon

V tolerant of people but have zero time for fuckboys and shut them down instantly.

You frequently get the shakes from caffeine or anxiety

Or both.

You give really encouraging hugs.

Have no clue what you wanna do in life but it’s ok bby it’ll work out.

Takeda:

You’re a very underappreciated and underrated person and I love u

Probably an English/languages major

Really kind and outgoing but high-key mysterious

Actually has a phat fucking temper like damn where did that come from.

Won’t take no for an answer when you want to achieve something.

That one person people don’t realise is there listening to your conversations but you definitely are and now know Becky’s deepest darkest secret.

Fuck you, becky.

Wore contacts once and forgot to take them out for 3 days.

You wondered why your eyes were so itchy.

Your music taste does not match your appearance.

Probably watch a lot of crime shows and imagine you’re an investigator

Aced physics and chemistry.

More than likely an introvert with extrovert tendencies when you feel like it.

Actually quite temperamental but it’s okay since you’re a v genuine person.

Often debate getting a sugar daddy bc that income looking real tempting rn.

Honest to a fault at times but it’s something people come to appreciate about you.

Just really wanna sleep for 15 hours and sit in front of your laptop with some hot coco.

Ukai:

You like older men

The smell of tobacco and coffee low-key comforts you for some reason.

Peed in a bottle that one time while on a road trip and forgot to throw it out until you found it a week later.

You’re a slut for dyed hair and dudes with piercings.

You once got drunk and passed out on a spinning round-a-bout in a park and your friend still has pictures that you refuse to acknowledge.

Bi-curious and just radiate big Bi energy

Would experiment but you’re too hesitant.

Hates the taste of beer but drinks it anyway.

Just wants to be loved man I stg is that too much to ask.

Often wonder if your friends actually like you then realise you don’t really care anyway lmao.

You still love them though.

Tired of working over time and just wanna catch a break.

Amazon Prime is your best friend.

Random ass parcels comin thru’ each day and it feels like Christmas.

A very lonely and one-man party Christmas.

Stop spending your fucking paycheck.

Have a pretty dark/cynical but really funny sense of humour and you often make people laugh.

Have a big ass temper and people KNOW it.

Often fantasised about dropping out and becoming a stripper bc your patience was being TESTED.

Really likes money but who doesn’t tbh.

You radiate Chaotic Evil but keep it under wraps.

#hq #haikyuu #karasuno #ukai keishin #takeda ittetsu #yachi hitoka #kiyoko shimizu #ennoshita chikara #tsukishima kei #yamaguchi tadashi #daichi sawamura #sugawara koushi #asahi azumane #tanaka ryuunosuke #nishinoya yuu #hinata shoyo #kageyama tobio

286 notes · View notes

ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

protection

request from anon: Hey, can I have some protective Freddie please? I could really use some in my life right about now 💕

request from anon: Hi! This is my first time requesting! I absolutely love your writing it’s so cute 🥺 and makes me blush 🥺 could you possibly write a protective!fred x reader? I loved the one you wrote. Maybe where Draco tries flirting and is quite persistent with the reader or sum. Doesn’t have to be Draco but he was the first character that came to mind. Please 👉👈🥺 Ty! Have a lovely day

request from anon: Hey! Your stories are amazing! Any chance I could request some Freddie fluff at bill and fleurs wedding please?! And maybe some protective Freddie when it gets to the death eaters bit…

word count: 2k

A/N: okay so we’ve got a lot going on here—we’ve got protective fred, jealous fred, wants-to-get-his-fiancé-alone-asap fred, we’re a mess of emotions here pals lol. i have so. many. requests. and i had a bunch asking for protective!fred plus also some fluff at the wedding. i did make the persistent male someone @ the wedding instead of draco but i hope you guys still love it!

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 | message me if you’d like to be added, loves!

“Think we could just.. skip the wedding, perhaps.. stay up here for the evening, run away tomorrow morning, find a little cottage somewhere and grow old together?”

You laugh softly and push playfully on his chest. “Freddie—”

“Doubt mum would even notice,” he replies, gently running his thumb across your cheek and down your neck, across your shoulder blades, over the goosebumps rising on your arms, “she’ll be crying the entire time, anyway. C’mon—” he jokes, pulling you closer to him, “we won’t be missing much, will we?”

“Don’t let your future sister-in-law hear you,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “Promise we’ll have some alone time later. You’ve to help the guests when they arrive. Also—you, sir, promised me a few dances, don’t you remember?”

Fred pauses and considers this for a moment. “You sure you want me to embarrass you like that? In front of all these people, no less?”

You laugh again, letting him twirl you on the spot in the middle of Ginny’s bedroom. He tightens his grip around your waist and begins to slowly lean from side to side, careful not to step on your feet. He stifles a bit of a giggle when he notices you watching. “Yes, my love, I want you to embarrass me—for the rest of our lives.”

— -

George, Bill, and Charlie are a few drinks for the worse at this point. The summer heat is dying down, the sun has completely set behind the hills in front of the Burrow. Fred, dancing horrendously next to his twin in the middle of the dance floor but doing his best to pace himself, holds out his hand to you and pulls you into him.

“I love dancing with you,” he says against your ear.

You hum appreciatively as he squeezes your hips and spins you on the spot, and you both glance at Mrs. Weasley in the corner grinning emotionally at all of her sons and their dates on the dance floor. You turn back to Fred and shake your empty drink at him. “In need of a refill, are we?” He grins lazily at you and you say after placing a hand softly to his cheek, “Be back in a jiff, darling.”

You feel a body appear next to you as you approach the table. You turn; a strapping young man in dark colored robes grins at you and sticks out his hand to introduce himself. It’s firm; his smile brightens more when you take his hand in yours and tell him your name.

“Pleasure to meet you,” you reply, turning back to pour yourself another drink.

He takes you by surprise and asks, “Care to dance?”

“Oh, I’m flattered—” you’re nearly tripping over your words now, a bit stunned at how forward he is. You nod to Fred in the middle of the crowd again, “I’ve actually, erm, got to get back to my fiancé.”

“Fiancé?” he asks with wide eyes, but still—there’s something rather flirtatious in the way he’s eyeing you; it doesn’t seem as though he cares at all that you’re engaged. He inches a bit closer. “Young girl like you, already tied up? Shame, really.”

It’s as if this comment alone calls out to Fred like a signal of some sorts, because before you know it, you feel a hand snake itself around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Fred is there; his eyes have darkened slightly, something you’ve noticed happens in bouts of jealousy. His lips form a thin line; it’s always odd to you when Fred becomes irritable, jealous, angry, when normally, he’s the one who’s always having a laugh.

“Can I help you?” he asks, squaring up the man across from him. You can feel his fingers tighten around your hips and it’s hard for you not to laugh at the tickle it’s causing. You clear your throat in an attempt to suppress your laughter.

“You must be the fiancé.”

“Right I am,” Fred says proudly, taking a swig of his drink. He nods in the direction of a few tables on the other end of the tent, “believe there are a few veela looking for a bloke to have a dance with if that’s what you’re interested in; but this beautiful woman,” he turns to you and grins, “is taken. Or have you chosen to ignore the ring, mate?” You peer down quickly at the sparkling ring on your left hand, and back up at the men in front of you.

“You speak for her?”

You place yourself in between the two of them, now both looking like they’re ready to duel, or worse—kill one another; you squeeze Fred’s hand and say to the other, “No, he doesn’t. Once again, I’m flattered, but I really think it’s time you leave. Wouldn’t want to cause a scene in front of the bride and groom,” you say through gritted teeth, “right?”

A bit embarrassed, but mostly a little on edge, he backs away and heads toward the other end of the tent, sipping rather moodily on his drink. You suck in a deep breath and turn back to Fred, whose eyes are still dark.

“I don’t like him.”

You smile cheekily at him. “You don’t say. Ever met him before?”

“N-no,” Fred replies, taken aback by your teasing, “but it doesn’t matter. Did you hear him? ‘You speak for her?’ What a complete git.”

You pull him close to you and whisper against his neck, “You jealous, love?”

“I’m not jealous,” he replies tersely. He swallows thickly when your grin grows larger before continuing, “I just don’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“Yeah?” you ask, “like how?”

“Like he’ll fall in love.” Fred replies, moving your hair gently out of your face.

“Yeah, well, he can fall in love all he wants,” you tell Fred now, pulling gently on his tie, “but he’s not the one who gets to take me home, is he?”

You know you’ve said the right thing; Fred’s lips curl into a sensual smile and he bites down on his bottom lip, probably to keep himself from jumping on you right then and there. He hums appreciatively before nipping at your neck, “Oh no he isn’t.”

— -

You’re both gently gliding along the dance floor, the soft sounds of harps and piano floating through the air between the guests. Then suddenly, there are a few audible gasps coming from outside the tent where the aurors are standing guard; Fred is tightening his hold around you, a bluish white ball of light shoots through the tent, landing right in the middle of the crowd, only to take the form of a lynx.

And Fred is grabbing your hand tightly, pulling you toward his brothers, and aurors are shouting directions at everyone, and Lupin is rushing the tent when suddenly, black hooded figures enter unannounced and uninvited, the screams of guests and the quick whipping sounds of others Disapparating are filling your ears.

You grab your wand from the pocket of your dress, watching as Harry, Ron, and Hermione Disapparate as Lupin shouts, Bill rushing to protect Fleur at all costs, Fred and George back to back as they shield you and Ginny from any spells or curses headed your direction.

Someone’s shouting angrily about the whereabouts of Harry Potter, Mrs. Weasley is yelling in horror, Lupin is firing spells left and right. Ginny hoists herself on top of a table, Mr. Weasley is dragging her down, George grabs your arm and screams “no!” as Fred closely misses a stunning spell by mere centimeters. Fred pulls you and Ginny together and moves you in the direction of a table. “Under here!” he screams, the force of his weight bearing down on you both.

“No!” Ginny yells, tears streaking her face as, undoubtedly, thinks of the safety of her loved ones. This time, it’s Charlie who’s pushing her down, attempting to shield her yet again, from any spells or curses aimed for you both.

“Let me out!” you scream and push passed Charlie and into the arms of Fred, whose eyes are darker than usual, concern plastered across his face.

“It’s too dangerous!” he yells before wrapping his arms around you and forcing you behind him, only to hit another Death Eater with a stunning spell. It’s as if his words alone are enough to sober him up. “You need to get back—now! Where’s Ginny?”

“No!” you yell over the screams of the guests, “I’m not leaving you!”

Your words are drowned out by the sounds of cries, mock laughter, explosive balls of light, and the crumbling of debris around you as a spell hits you and sends you flying backward, slamming into chairs and tables and nearly knocking you out cold.

And in a half conscious, half awake, barely breathing, horrendous state, you catch glimpses of George shielding his sister, Death Eaters being knocked back by the others, Fred’s tear soaked face as he slings an arm around you and pulls you up from the floor, until before you know it, you’re Apparating Merlin only knows where.

— -

You’re watching from the entrance of Shell Cottage as the sun begins to rise, Fred next to you, asleep on your shoulder, the sound of his breathing like a soothing balm to your soul. Suddenly you feel a blanket wrap around your shoulders and peer up at George, who smiles softly and places a gentle kiss to your forehead before retreating back into the house. “Breakfast should be ready soon.”

“Thanks, Georgie,” you say. Your voice is hoarse in your ears; it sounds strange. Like it’s not even yours. Fred stirs for a moment before fully waking, his eyes bloodshot and tired and weak, only having slept for maybe twenty or so minutes.

There’s silence hanging in the air between you both. You swallow a few times—your throat is extremely dry, it feels like you haven’t eaten or had anything to drink in days. It’s scary that it’s only been a few long hours since the wedding.

“It’s really happening now, isn’t it?” you ask suddenly. The words sound foreign in your mouth. Fred lifts his head in surprise, peers at you solemnly for a moment before squeezing your hand.

He watches a few tears escape your eyes. “Yes,” he replies, and still, it seems so strange to see him in such a serious, stoic state. It makes you feel off balance. You don’t like it. You shudder for a moment and wiggle your way closer to him under the blanket. “But I promise to do everything I can to protect you.”

You wonder, selfishly now, if maybe you should take up Fred’s offer from the day before. Run away, find a small house somewhere far away, grow old together. You wipe a few tears away with your sleeves before turning to face him. You can see tears welling up in his eyes, to. But it’s not long before he’s making you smile and you’re letting laughs escape your lips with no effort. “But we’ve just got to finish this, haven’t we? Reckon those slimy Death Eaters don’t stand a chance—”

And yes, he’s making you laugh, and he’s grinning broadly at you, but the memory of last evening’s events, and the thoughts of events to come, hover over the both of you like a storm cloud ready to release the rain. His voice is a bit shaky when he tells you softly, “We’ll be okay, you know.”

“I hope so.” you reply.

“Besides,” he continues, taking your hand in his and examining the still sparkling ring, “I promised to embarrass you for the rest of our lives, right? Our wedding being the prime spot for it!”

“You’re ridiculous, you are.”

“Yeah,” he replies, kissing your forehead, “but you still agreed to be my wife, anyway.”

And soon, Bill is calling the both of you for breakfast, Ginny is bringing you both steaming cups of morning tea, marking the start of a new, stranger beginning as you both peer in front of you, once more, at the blending of sea and sky.

305 notes · View notes

spiltscribbles · 4 years

Note

Any chance you could give us some Arabic speaking Remus headcanons? Loved your latest fic ❤️ 📚

OMFG gorgeous sugarplum! I legit only just was reminded of this while scrolling through my inbox right now! But my heart is finna burst!!! Thank you SO SO much and yes I would love to give some Headcanons about this! Especially since the next long story I’m working on includes this dynamic, and I’m so excited about it!! However, common disclaimer that while I am Arab and culturally Muslim even if I don’t practice like the rest of my family lol, I am Palestinian and not Syrian. So with every identity there are different experiences and customs no matter how closely intertwined. So I apologize for any inconsistency that a Syrian may read and disagree with, and please feel free to correct me<3 <3

The FIC this HC is from

So first off some background on his mum in the story

I chose the name Vivian based off a friend of a friend who’s uncle married a woman by that name back in Palestine, so it’s definitely extremely uncommon, but a fully Arab lady was named it, so like it’s my defense bahaha. But it also means lively, and coupled with Hussein as her maiden name which means beautiful, it just fit her personality to a t!!

She was born into a pretty secular family in Syria in the late 1920s, so there was a lot going on in that time period. But her dad was pretty influential, working in the government and such. Vivian was also the youngest of four girls and three boys so she was pretty spoiled tbh

She attended a boarding school in France through out her adolescence and decided to go to university there too, so she’s fluent in both Arabic and French, with pretty great English as well. Though she wasn’t exactly white passing, even though like a bunch of Syrians/Palestinians/Lebanese folk she was somewhat fair, she had distinctly Arabian features, like the large almond shaped eyes and thick lashes and thicker brows, and a long, largeish nose, accented by full lips. So she experienced a good amount of jeers and discrimination, especially when folks found out her surname. So I think she’s able to relate to Remus in that sense of being a wolf at least, and later on when he comes out as gay.

It was 1950 when she and a few of her girlfriends went to Wales for holiday after completing university. The second Lyall first spotted her in the woods while she was trying to make it back to the cabin near the Irish Sea with her mates, it was something like love, because duh. She was a fucking knock out!! A babe and a baddy! Literally so far out of his league its ridiculous! But on Vivian’s side, she was mostly just amused and a bit enamored by this cocksure Welshman who had the most endearing of crooked smiles that their son would inherit a decade later. So obviously she didn’t make it easy on him, but eventually she let him take her out on the last night of her trip, and was pleased to find out that they had the same sort of humor and the same passion for their careers and even the same love for the outdoors too.

They had a long distance relationship for two years while she went to grad school so she could teach about classics while Lyall himself was rising the ranks in the Ministry for regulation and control of magical creatures— Unbeknownst to her, the Floo network was very helpful with the distance. Just thank God Lyall himself is a Muggle born because he really had to fake the hell out of it lol.

So just to speed things up they got married on a lovely June evening in 1955, subsequent to Vivian excepting a professorial job in Cardiff after Lyall told her about the Wizarding world. At first Vivian thought e was tripping on some subpar edibles until he proved it by transfiguring her snuff box into a lovely broach that she kept for the rest of her life, So after Vivian was convinced, she became absolutely enthralled by all of the magic so completely.

They were trying for a few years when she finally became pregnant with Remus in 1959, and they were both so over the moon (pun unintended).

So like I said above, Vivian’s family are pretty secular, so I see her mostly practicing the cultural aspects of Islam. For example, every Friday— which is the equivalent to Sundays being the holy day for Christians— she lights up the instance that she always keeps herself stocked up on after her annual trip to Syria, instead of the typical candles she ordinarily prefers. And Remus swears that for the rest of his life whenever he smells it, he’s back to being a baby, puttering around the house and watching her dusting the shelves while humming quietly an Arabic song that’ played out the gramophone by a man who’s music would soon become regarded as the song of the people. Or Remus would recall being snuggled into her lap while she read him a novel on the windowsill. Or he’d simply remember listening to his parents laughter fluttering in the air while he fell asleep by the fire, subconsciously making the flower buds closest to him bloom with his untapped magic.

Remus’s first clear memory— thanks to the endless pictures— is when he was around four years old, before the attack, and they were staying in Vivian’s home town in Damascus. While the men congregated out doors for cigars and cards and the women in the living room chatting while snacking on watermelon seeds, his older cousins— who were all girls— dragged him off to one of the bedrooms and doted on him because he was the baby of that side of the family. And he remembers walking out in a set of one of their heels and a headscarf wrapped around his head which made his Mama and Tata and Aumties laugh out loud and croon over him, and all his uncles and Sido call him Aumty Remus.

The attack by Greyback happened soon after they returned to Wales, and I’m not gonna touch on it becs I’ not finna depress myself. But it was a January morning after his first transformation and he remembers that when he woke up, he saw the cookies stuffed with dates resting on his bedside with a glass of milk that Lyall had put a cooling charm on. And they’re indulgent treats that Vivian makes for both Eids every year even though they don’t celebrate them in any other way lol. But the cookies always reminds him of family and of feeling safe in his mother’s arms, and they still work to make him feel better even after the worst thing he has ever experienced in his short life.

Remus’s love of poetry came from both sides of his parents, but it was listening to his mother recite the story of Majnun Layla in it’s original Arabic that really made him glow for the art form, and brought him to discovering his favorites like Auden and Neruda.

There’s a ornate, wooden prayer box that has been past down on the Hussein side of the family for five generations, it was originally meant to hold a Qran but for the past three it’s simply just been a beautiful piece of decoration. So when Vivian gave it to Remus when he was headed off to Hogwarts, little Remus asked McGonagall to help him with locking charms so it could become a safe place for him to keep his most cherished of nicknacks ant momentos, so obviously, she silently added a charm to keep the wood nearly unbreakable and the extension charm atop of that, like Hermione with her bag, so that he could keep as many happy memories as possible inside of it, and she prayed that there would be so many that it threatened to burst.

The last time Remus opened the box was in 1996, when he was putting away the ring Sirius gifted him as a match to his own in some feeble promise of forever only weeks before James and Lily’s own engagement.

Once during first year, he and the lads were staying up late, trading stories about how they got their most ridiculous scars— after seeing the one that scraped across Remus’s left shoulder blade— But it got to a point where they were all feeling a bit nippish, so they went down to the kitchens for some of the chocolate pudding that was served during dinner that night. And Remus idly asked the house elves if they could make him a batch of Kinafa because he was getting home sick and missed when he and his Mama would dash over to the city whenever they were feeling antsy, and she’d take him to their favorite hooka bar after buying a round of the dessert— which is basically sweetbread stuffed with cheese— from down the block. And they’d stay sitting beneath the starlight, and talking about her job and his lessons from school while she’d let him try a discrete puff or two and they’d laugh about everything and nothing at all.

The next time they stopped by the kitchens one of the younger house elves presented him with the snack gleefully, and it tasted fine, just not like how they do back home. So Remus smiled warmly at Tipsy, the house elf, and thanked her with real sincerity.

But his face must’ve betrayed him because after easter break, Sirius plops down a fresh batch of them on Remus’s bed before leaping into his own, casually mentioning that he saw how grossed out Remus looked when trying the one the house elves made, and it was from a restaurant close to Grimmauld so it’s not that big of a deal, and then he rushed to cursing at James for stealing his favorite pen and swearing that if he broke it he’s gonna have hell to pay. Remus had only blushed and chuckled with a small smile on his face when he cut himself a small piece and finished the half sheet off with the rest of their house later that night during an impromptu party that the Marauders would become infamous for in later years.

It was the summer after second year when all the marauders visited Remus back home in Wales and when they heard Vivian call him Qamar practically every other sentence, which of course lead to endless ribbing and eventually to his nickname of Moony— even though it’s so fucking obvious and Remus loves and hates it in equal parts. God his friends are so fucking stress inducing!

Remus teaches the other marauders funny Arabic curse words and they use them in class so that they can talk shit about particularly disgusting Slytherins without them being any of the wiser. (Yes I did do this with my friends, and I’d do it again! POW! POW! POW!)

It’s from Vivian that Remus has an affinity for coffee as strong as shit, but also prefers his tea weak— specifically two sugars and a dash of milk. But seriously, if you’ve ever tried Arabian coffee you’d understand, that shit is so fucking strong it’s literally a hate crime LMFAO. But yeah, this habit is definitely a point of contention between him and Sirius— who’s actually so fucking posh no matter how much he wants to be punk, and he stands by only drinking black tea— like Merlin intended— and saying bugger off to any and all coffees. “Leave that shite to the French and Americans.” And Remus would try to keep himself from making eyes at him from across the table, because God Sirius is hot when he’s all fiery and impassioned, even when it’s about the dumbest, most inconsequential shit.

Something that’s sort of funny is that Remus was the first among them to become a fucking pot head and could drink them all under the table even though Sirius himself has got two stone and three inches on him. But Remus still refuses to eat ham, purely because he never grew up eating it and doesn’t care too now. Sirius had to specifically ask Euphemia and Monty to make turkey for Christmas dinner their sixth year just because he knew that Remus’s head would probably implode with the decision between being rude and not eating it or forcing himself to gag down the unfamiliar meat.

When Remus is really, really fucking drunk he definitely spends the night only speaking in Arabic! (Don’t look at me I’m trash just because I stole this from my own life lmfao) But yeah, it’s really fucking hilarious and Sirius swears to God he’s so fucking in love with him while listening to Remus ranting in the unfamiliar language. And he’s like positive that half the time he’s actually just cursing Sirius out but he doesn’t even care because it’s SO! DAMN! CUTE! And sometimes Sirius decides to speak French at a drunk off his arse Moony, who occasionally replies back in a stiff staccato before returning back to the easy Arabic. And it’s just a mess.

Ok so sadness warning

In my head, Vivian loses her fight against breast cancer the July after the Marauders graduate from Hogwarts, and afterwords Remus gets a tattoo of her name in Arabic on his chest, and the word for soul on the nape of his neck. He locks away that battered copy of Magnun Layla in the wooden box she gave him years ago, along with a woolen scarf that smelt like her perfume.

It’s Sirius who buys a set of prayer beads to hang off her photo above the mantel in the flat he and Remus share, and when Remus sees it he literally feels like he might crack open with tears, but opts to kiss Sirius thank you instead, and they stay tangled on the sofa for the rest of the day in quiet contemplation.

One night, in late 1979, while the war was only getting worse and worse— Sirius was hit by a cutting curse to the ribs. And it was really fucking bad, but thankfully James got him to his house in time for Lily to help and heal. He slept for the most part for nearly an entire day, but remembers snippets. Like when Remus had sprinted into the room with fear painted all over his soft features, and when James put a cooling cloth to his head. But most distinctly, Sirius recalls Remus gingerly lying besides him and Sirius talking gibberish at his boyfriend while Remus plunged his entire face against his back, eyes wet with tears and body shuttering as he squeezed him softly, saying something quietly in Arabic. Sirius obviously didn’t understand like 99.9% of it, but he did catch the word “Habibi,” which he instantly remembers as an old pet name Vivian use to call Remus with so much love it made her entire countenance sparkle. It’s an endearment that means beloved, or darling, and it feels like Remus is begging Sirius to stay with him and Sirius’s throat is still raw from the screaming, so he can only reply by dragging Remus’s hand up to his mouth and kissing his knuckles tenderly. And he knows that whatever he does for the rest of his days, he loves Remus Lupin with every cell in his body.

Oof this got mad depressing…. Chow anyways, I can add a picture of the container you’re suppose to use for the instance if anyone wants that?

Thank you again dear Nonny!!!

Ask Me For Headcanons About A Story I’ve Written Or For One You Want To See Written

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #MARAUDERS #THE HARRY POTTER SERIES #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #HEADCANONS #HEADCANONS BY LEN #FIC: MAMA LUPIN IS A BABE

32 notes · View notes

idunnoficsorsumthing · 4 years

Text

Issues lol

I got a new phone. An Iphone 8. Also anyone else out there with commitment issues they can’t explain? like your parent’s aren’t divorced, and you didn’t have a toxic past relationship? but relationships scare the hell out of ya?

George Weasley x female! reader

“Go out with me.” George asked. You shake your head at George. “No. ” you said plainly. You gesture at him to leave. “You ought to be nicer to him.” Hermoine said, from across the table. “I am making him work for it.” you tell her. A smile appeared on your face as Beth sat down next to you. “She believes that once a man gets what he wants he loses interest.” Beth explained to Hermoine. She frowned, and shook her head. “Do you go out with other guys?” Hermione asked. You shake your head. Hermione really did look confused. “It is so she can hide the fact that she is scared of commitment.” Beth said, You shrug, you hadn’t heard that George ever went out with another girl. Not that the two of you ever talked about the terms of your relationship. You weren’t interested in being that girl that had a boyfriend, and were lovey dovey all the time. You went out with George whenever you felt like it. You didn’t need to be his girlfriend. It was just casual fun. “So George could get a girlfriend at any moment, considering the two of you aren’t in a relationship.” Hermione said, you shake your head. But, she was right.

She had a point, neither of you ever referred to one another as girlfriend or boyfriend, and the casual make out sessions weren’t exactly what you’d call being in a relationship. This has been going on since the beginning of the school year, and christmas break was coming up soon. He would go home with his siblings, and you’d go home to London. Every year the seventh, and sixth year students organized a christmas party, and only people from younger years would only be invited by seventh year students. First, second, and the faculty knew nothing about it. You were a fifth year student, and George would probably ask you to come with him. Although this year was tricky because of Umbridge, and you weren’t even sure if there was going to be a christmas party.

“Will you come with me to the secret christmas party?” he asked. He slid down on the seat beside you in potions. He looked at you with begging eyes. “Actually I got asked by someone else.” you told him. You didn’t want him to get too close. You realised that you were only comfortable with him when he was just a make out session instead of a boyfriend

“And you said yes?” he seemed confused. You nod. “Yes” you tell him. He looked really disappointed, and somewhat hurt. “Ow, I assumed you’d come with me.” He said, you give him a smile. “Well, you’re not my boyfriend, are you?” You said, getting up from your chair.

At the party you were dancing with Andrew, your date. You were far from interested in him. But, he was a great distraction from George’s glaring eyes. He seemed very angry about you leaving him at the end of potions class. “Want to go make out?” Andrew asked. You look over at George, he was laughing at something Lee said. Thank god, you didn’t want to see him at the moment. Yet, you also didn’t want to see him hurt. “So?” Andrew asked. You nod. The two of you make it out to the hallway. Andrew pressed your body against a wall. You didn’t like how forceful he was. George was rough but that but you trusted George to not cross any boundaries. You tried to push Andrew away a little. But, it didn’t break the kiss. He noticed he crossed the line and kept standing a step away. between the two of you. “Get the fuck away from her.” You hear a familiar voice exclaim. You feel Andrew being pulled away.

You open your eyes to see George punching Andrew. One single punch. “What the hell Weasley!” Andrew said he was ready to hit George. But, when he looked at you and you shook your head, he showed George his middle finger and left. “What the hell is wrong with you?” George asked you. You frown. “What the hell is wrong with YOU” you said loudly. You knew the two of you should keep quiet in case Umbridge got a whiff of it. George pulled you by your wrist to a nearby classroom. There was only one classroom in this part of the castle. The astronomy tower. You were too furious with him to keep quiet up all the way to the top of the stairs. “George seriously. You can’t just fucking punch people, you’ll get in trouble with Umbridge” you snap. He glared at you before looking back at the steps. “I don’t care about Umbridge.” He said, he said as he was on the top of the stairs. “Why are you snogging Andrew Bogsley?” he said, anger radiated from him. “Well, I am a single woman I can do as I please” you said, he shook his head, and a faint laugh was on his lips. “and I considered you my girlfriend.” he said, you sat down on one of the crates in the room. “I don’t do relationships” you tell him. George chuckled. “So you said” he said, he looked hurt. Exactly what you didn’t want to do. “I want a relationship with you.” He said, you shake your head. “I can’t do that.” you cried out. You feel an overwhelming feeling of sadness washed over you. He shook his head. “I want you and me to work, okay.” he said: “I don’t want you to go home, and snog guys over winter break. I want you to come visit me, and I can introduce you to my mum.” not only sadness filled you but also fear. A lot of fear. “I really don’t feel comfortable with that George. There is a reason I keep things loose.” you tell him. He sits down on the crate beside you. “Who the hell damaged you?” He asked. He put his hand on your cheek. He didn’t say anything more, and tears started to flood your eyes. People you trusted, people that were supposed to be there for you. They all hurted you, and it was all pain. “I’m not going to hurt you” he said: “I might even love you” you chuckled. “Oh that’s a word a girl wants to hear. Might!” You laugh sarcastically. “Fine you bloody idiot. I love you” he said, he pressed his lips against yours. “Give me a chance. I know you want to.” He chuckled. A smile appeared on your face, and he was right. You wanted to, you wanted soemthing that you knew wasn’t going to work. “Yes” you said,

This scared you more than anything in the entire world. You were standing in front of your fireplace with floo powder in your hand. “Call me when you get there.” Your mother said, she was absolutely not a fan of you spending a couple of days at George’s house. She actually wanted to forbid it, but you promised you’d sleep with Ginny.

“E’llo dear” Molly greeted. When you stepped out of their fireplace. She greeted you with a hug, which took you by surprise. George and Fred were standing side by side. Those were the only Weasleys waiting to greet you, as Ron was into town with Hermione and Harry. Ginny was off with friends. “We fixed you a bed with Ginny and Hermione. Oh we are so glad to have you here.” She said, you just give her an awkward smile. “Good to see you, Freddie” you teased him. He just scrunched his nose at you. “I’ll be watching you.” He said: “ if you knock him up. I’ll know where to find you.” You all stared at Fred. Molly was about to say something. “Wrong person” he said, Turning to his brother. “Knock her up and you are dead.” Fred said, you chuckle. George hit his brother in the shoulder. “We are going to go now.” George said, taking you by your hand. You follow him up the stairs. He showed you Ginny’s room where two makeshift beds were made. “If you wake up in the middle of the night. You are more than welcome to come over to my room. You should know that Fred snores.” He said cheekily. He took you outside to the fields that were now empty, and only a couple of trees were to be seen in the distance. He told you how pretty it was in late summer when all the wheat reached higher than the people standing in it. “Are you alright?” He asked before the two of you were supposed to come in for dinner. “Yeah-no i think so” you said, he pecked a kiss on your cheek. The two of you sat down at the crowded dinner table, that was loud and Arthur noticed you. “You are new aren’t you?” He asked you. “Dad! This is y/n my girlfriend.” George said, his dad squinted his eyes at his son. “I had no idea” he said to himself mostly. It made you feel uncomfortable that George actually referred ro you as his girlfriend. “Dad you’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached.” Fred said, Molly glared at her sin, and several others were smirking. George pecked a kiss on your cheek, and you wanted to push him away from you. But, you didn’t.

You didn’t see George that evening, actually you were kind of glad to have some girl time. The two of them just wanted to talk about George and you. “I thought you didn’t want to be a girlfriend?” Hermione asked. You shrug, putting your hand in the popcorn bowl. The three of you were sitting on Ginny’s bed, the weird sisters playing in the background. “He made me change my mind” you said with a small smile. Ginny leaned her arm against yours. “You should date one of my brothers that would also make you my sister, ‘Mione” Ginny chuckled. Hermione’s cheeks turned red. “Oh stop it Ginny” Hermione said. You laugh at the two of them.

The three of you didn’t sleep till late, you still weren’t really asleep when you heard a sound in the hallway. Then George stepped inside the bedroom, you wouldn’t have known it was him if he didn’t say it was him. “Come with me” he whispered. You get up from your bed, and follow him. He led you to his bedroom where George was snoring. “ George, I can't stay here. I should go to my bed.” You whisper to him. “I’ll turn on the alarm, and you can sneak back into your bed.” He said, he patted on the spot next to him in the bed. You hesitated. Fred did snore loudly. You lie down next to him. “So how are you feeling?” he asked. “stop asking me that all the time.” you chuckle. You stare at the ceiling. “Will you tell me why you feel this way?” he asked. He snuggled his nose close to the crook of your neck. “I just do, Georgie.” you whisper. “I can’t help it.” you whisper. You were glad he didn’t try to wrap his arms around you too. “I won’t call you my girlfriend anymore. I’ll call you my own personal idiot.” he whispered. You chuckle a little.

Tagged: @enchantedcruelsummer

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #fred weasley #molly weasley #harry potter #hermoine granger #george weasley imagien #george weasley imagine

50 notes · View notes

randomficsandshit · 4 years

Text

Jily Fic Rec Masterlist

*NONE OF THESE FICS ARE MINE*

Please do not forget. I have not written any of these. I’m simply recommending favorites of mine over the years. If you love something, send the author you love, not me :) and if any links don’t work, send me a message and I’ll see what I can do, this is a pretty old list

A Wizard Walks Into A Bar Word Count: 5k+

Contrary to popular belief, it's not always the man who does all the chasing.

Pepper Up, Peppermint Word Count: 3k+

Sixth year Lily is home, sick, at Christmas. Can a visit from her friends cheer her up?

Your Eyes Are Like Starlight Now Word Count: 1k+ “The first snow is magical, you can’t deny it,” and Lily grumbled, but she did have to agree. It was beautiful. Of course, that moment lasted exactly thirty seconds before James squashed a snowball into her face.

Sing A Reckless Serenade

Word Count: 7k+

After an almost minute of silence, she finally relents, “I need you guys to help me with a work thing.” A hefty pause. And then- “What kind of work thing?” James asks, warily. Lily takes a breath. It seemed like a brilliant idea last night, when she was more than three drinks under, but now in the light of day it just seems… pathetic. Still though, she needs help, and needs it soon, so she finds herself blurting out: “I need you to fake date me for a week.”

Three Swipes, You're Out

Word Count: 4k+

Part 1 of Shiver Me Tinders series

Sports star James Potter tries to pick Lily up on tinder. Lily Evans, a dedicated not sports fan is offended by the idea that someone thinks she wouldn't recognize James Potter's face. She laughs about it with her friends at a bar, until James Potter, who also frequents that bar, comes over to clarify that nope, he's on tinder, and he's definitely hitting on her.

Making Spirits Bright

Word Count: 2k+

Part 2 (final part) of Shiver Me Tinders series

She should have expected it to be hard, dating a celebrity, but somehow she and James make it work.

Air For Free

Word Count: 2k+

When you’re in the company of James Potter you almost forget about the world around you.

What Are You Doing On Christmas Eve?

Word Count: 13k+

"I kinda told them all I was already seeing someone." "Kinda?" Lily eyed him deceptively, "Who?" "You." Christmas, Fake Dating

Rekindling

Word Count: 7k+

He passes her the cardboard box and their fingers brush again only this time Lily doesn't pull away so quickly. This time Lily lingers, if only to be thrown back into another time when James was her everything. If he was willing, she'd let him be her everything again.

Isn’t It Obvious?

Word Count: 7k+

Rewrite of The Prince’s Tale except it’s James Potter

Meet The Potter’s

Word Count: 8k+

"we're having a water fight but your white shirt is see through now and I'm distracted? oops?"

Early Morning Toast Brigade

Word Count: 2k+

"Is that toast?" she said, catching sight of a plate of the stuff that sat on the floor, next to James's invisibility cloak, the wonders of which she had been introduced to the summer previous. "Nah," he replied. "It's regular bread, with a suntan." "What?" "A suntan," James repeated. "It's highly unlikely that you've ever experienced one first hand, being ginger and all, so I won't blame you if you don't know what it is." "Shut up. Where'd you get it?" "Oh, my skin is naturally sallow." "I'm talking about the toast, idiot." "Won it off Dumbledore in a duel." "James!"

Two Sides Of The Same Coin

Word Count: 8k+

There are those who claim that Lily Evans couldn't possibly love James Potter as much as he loves her - including, on occasion, James Potter himself - but they couldn't be more wrong if they claimed that the moon was made of cheese.

Mother Deer

Word Count: 7k+

Euphemia Potter is the unequivocal boss of everyone, including and most especially her son, and if the sweet, bright-eyed redhead who frequents her coffee shop doesn't know that yet, she's about to find out.

Hijacking

Word Count: 3k+

She isn't certain how it started, why it continues, or where her moral decency has gone, but sometime around February, James and Lily start hijacking each other's rounds in order to sneak off and shag in entirely inappropriate Hogwarts locales.

Elevator Love Song

Word Count: 15k+

James unexpectedly finds himself trapped in a dodgy apartment elevator with Lily Evans.

Try, Trial, and Try Again

Word Count: 6k+

Spell engineering has never been so complicated than when an afternoon of trying and trialing leaves James and Lily in an interesting position.

Questions And Answers

Word Count: 5k+

The simple question of whether or not they're dating doesn't exactly have a simple answer. Seventh Year Jily.

*Sunshine In My Eyes

Word Count: 93k+

Mr. and Mrs. Evans are killed when Lily's only a girl, and she's supposed to go to a home with her sister. Instead, a relative they didn't know they had comes to collect them, and introduces Lily to manners, magic, and a life that's just the slightest bit different from the life she was supposed to live. Or, an AU in which Minerva McGonagall raises Lily.

Key Limes

Word Count: 23k+

In which Academy Award winner Lily Evans discovers the periphery of internet fandom and the mysteries of Prince James’s gold star system.

Red Velvet Ribbon

Word Count: 7k+

Lily sighed and ran an agitated hand through her hair, all the while glancing up at the mistletoe in the doorway. Those spindly branches and little green leaves, all bundled up in a red velvet ribbon, so falsely innocent and romantically devious… Lily felt that old James Potter tingle shoot up her spine and – as custom would dictate – she couldn't shake it off. God damn Christmas.

Wishing You All A Good Evening

Word Count: 46k+

Despite his popularity on campus, James Potter has had a hard time getting the attention of one, Lily Evans. Lily's not impressed by him and his arrogance, but James is quite impressed with everything Lily does. After the blunder that was their first meeting, James is determined to change her mind and she's determined not to let him. College!AU

Meeting The Marauders

Word Count: 49k+

Or how Mr Evans was forced to spend Christmas with four raving lunatics, had his life turned upside down and was forced to make his precious daughter go on a date. (mostly like this one because I think it was clever doing the POV of Lily’s dad)

Another Damn Grocery Store Fic, Okay?

Word Count: 9k+

Lily runs her father's grocery store and the guy she remembers from her childhood moves back into town. Thanks to petals for the brilliant prompt -- "grocery store AU where Lily works the counter and he keeps buying things just to talk to her"

I Can’t Read Your Mind (Though I’m Trying All The Time)

Word Count: 40k+

The one where Lily is just trying to be a good friend by offering to be James's fake girlfriend for a weekend at the Potter Family Extravaganza. Really. Only, James just so happens to be in love with her, so this can't be any good for his health, and Lily is oblivious to the fact that this might not be so platonic for her, either.

Fate, Automobiles & Other Disasters

Word Count: 15k+

Lily is quite content owning her little flower shop and feuding with next door neighbor Sirius Black and his errant parking skills, until his best mate, Oscar-winning actor James Potter, moves in.

The Incident In The Library

Word Count: 3k+

Lily Evans has been distracted lately…and it’s all because of James Potter and his stupid, unbuttoned shirt. Hardly any fluff, but plenty of shirtless James for everybody.

I Think It’s About Old Friends

Word Count: 7k+

James and Lily, and seven years of Christmas.

Petalpocalypse

Word Count: 20k+

What do you get when you combine two classroom enemies, only one chemistry book, the blizzard of the decade, and drinking games? The tropiest Jily fic of all time!

I Love You (ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?)

Word Count: 21k+

He didn’t picture Lily wandering alone, he never imagined the dullness that seemed to overcome her usually vivacious eyes, never fantasized about the way she looked at him straight on and asked, “Want to do something stupid?”

He, apparently, was something stupid.

(Summer before seventh year, failed friends with benefits).

Quidditch Club

Word Count: 14k+

The first rule of Quidditch Club is 'no falling for a student's mum'. Jily AU. Single Mum AU. Smut if you squint.

59 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #443

“it’s not a life sentence, but a death dream for you”

When was the last time you were in the hospital? Me personally, uhhh sometime in 2017? Why were you there? I had a cyst removal surgery. Do you like Cheez-Its or Cheese Nips better? Cheez-Its. Have you worn headphones at all today? Yeah, I pretty much always do because YouTube is always open and on a video. When was the last time you had blood drawn? A few months ago or something? I'll be getting some drawn shortly though for genetic testing; due to my mom having some dysfunctional cancer prevention gene, all her children are getting tests to see if we inherited it. The last time you got blood drawn, what was the reason? I want to say I was tested for anemia most recently. What color eyes does/did your father have? Brown. What do you daydream most about? Things I wish I didn't daydream about. What is your relation to the last child you spoke to? They're my niece and nephew. Do you believe the Holocaust happened? No fucking shit? Do you prefer zebra stripes, tiger stripes, or leopard spots? Tiger stripes, ig. When did you last see a dog? At my nephew's b-day party a couple weeks ago. Nicole brought her dog Zeke over. Have you ever been in the mountains when the moon and stars were up? No, but omg I wish!!!!!!!!!! Do you know anyone from Canada? Yep. Has a cat ever licked you? Yeah. Roman especially loves to give kisses. Where would you most like to go in your state, etc. that you haven’t been? The Wizard of Oz park, probs. Are you scared to look at your own organs on x-ray or ultrasound? No, that shit's rad. o: Have you ever walked on a frozen lake/river? No, that sketches me out. I'd be afraid of the ice breaking and me falling in. Have you ever seen a volcano? No. Have you ever met an Alaskan? Met in-person, no. But I do have an online friend who's from Alaska. Or may still live there? Idk. Have you ever mowed the lawn (even a little bit)? No. Have any unpleasant public transit stories to tell? Nah. Do you know any German words? Seeing as I took four semesters of the language in high school, I know a good deal. However, my skill has definitely atrophied with time and lack of application. Do you have a passport? No. Are your teeth straight? I mean, mostly. I had braces for too long, but I didn't wear my retainer, so they've moved back some. Would you mind dating someone significantly shorter than you? Yeah, sure. I've never understood why height is an issue for some people. Can you quote the movie Mean Girls? No. I personally never got the craze. Have you ever swam in the Atlantic Ocean? I have. The Pacific? No. Can you make yourself cry? No. Have you ever held a starfish? Not a live one. What would you do if you found out your ex was pregnant/fathered a child? Faint or vomit. Wail. All three. Are you very close to your siblings? No. :/ Can you do CPR? No. Favorite sport to watch in the summer Olympics? I don't care. Ever flushed a fish? Yes. Ever been paid for sex or a sexual favor? No. I wouldn't agree to that. Last friend you talked to online? Sara. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity? No. What is the best ice cream flavor? Vanilla. You have so many topping options. What’s your favorite thing to do outside? Photograph nature, especially wild animals. What would you spend $1,000 on? A big, really pro tattoo. What was the best (non-romantic) night you’ve had? Hm. I don't know. Who did you last lay in a bed/couch/recliner with? Mom and I sat together on the couch some time ago. Do you keep a planner? No. What are you craving right now? I've got a seriously random craving for shell pasta with a nice, meaty tomato sauce. Do you want kids anytime soon? DEFINITELY not soon, but also never. Has anyone ever drunk called/texted you? No. Have you ever slept in the same bed with the last person you kissed? Yeah. What’s the best feeling in the world? Knowing you're in love and really feeling it. What’s something you really want right now, be honest. There's a lot of things. Who in your family do you act like the most? I don't know, really. Who has made the biggest sacrifice for you? My mom, 100%. Do you believe that your first true love can be your only love in life? Of course not. Have you ever kissed under water? Yes. Is there that one guy that you’ll always have feelings for no matter what? Suuuure is. Wish it wasn't like that, but I don't see it ever changing, to be real... Are you 100% over the last person you kissed? 100%? No, I can't say I am entirely. Have your parents ever caught you kissing a guy? "Caught me?" How old is this question meant for? Yes, they've seen me kiss a guy before. If you mean like, seriously kiss-kissing, no. Which one of your exes hates you the most? Probably Jason. Are you named after anyone? No. Well, my middle name has been passed down, but "Brittany" wasn't from anybody else in specific. What reminds you the most of your last relationship? The song "The Only Exception" by Paramore. Have you ever rejected someone but they still wouldn’t give up on you? In elementary school, yes. When growing up, did your family always eat at the dinner table together? Usually, yes, at least when growing up. Sometimes we'd use little tables to eat in the living room though while watching TV. What is the greatest source of happiness in your life? My mom, best friend, and pets. What was the last charity/cause you donated to? I'm unsure, actually. Who was the last person you got a handwritten letter from? Sara! :') Did your parents read bedtime stories to you when you were little? Mom did. Have any of your worst fears ever come true? Yes. The greatest fear I've ever had was losing Jason, and that happened. Is anyone in your family divorced? My parents, for one. My older half-sister has also be divorced because her ex is an absolute piece of manipulative horse shit. Has anyone in your family gotten pregnant as a teenager? I think my mom? No, maybe not... Idk. I ain't doing the math. What’s your greatest talent? If you want a serious answer and not something self-depracating, I suppose writing. Would you ever want to get a master’s degree? It'd be cool, but I've never *actually* wanted to pursue that. Have you ever worn revealing clothing in order to get attention? No. Have you ever been falsely accused of being racist? I've never been accused of being racist, because I'm not. To you, is sex just about physical pleasure, or do you see it as an expression of love and commitment? Absolutely the latter. I could never engage in sex without deep emotional commitment. How many times have you been drunk in the past 6 months? Zero. What’s your favorite French food? I have no idea. What’s the most elaborate recipe you know how to cook? Nothing. Which rooms of your house have doors that lead outside? The living room and kitchen. Best purchase you ever made? My snake. :') Is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40? I haven't seen him a long time, but boy did I have a thing for James Hetfield in high school. There are defs others, but no one else immediately comes to mind. Have you ever been caught sneaking out? No, because I've never tried to. How many Facebooks have you had? Just the one I still use. Have you ever been punched in the face? No. When was the last time you talked to the first person you kissed? The beginning of February, 2017. What is the latest you have ever slept in? Past 5. Do you have to watch yourself in the mirror while you brush your teeth? No. Do you text when you drive? Fuck no. You couldn't pay me to. What movie do you really want to see that’s out? I don't even know what movies are out right now. Did America really put a man on the moon? Eventually, yes. Call me crazy, but I do believe the supposed first one was faked, though, to "beat" Russia in the space race. Do some research and it's pretty shocking. Would you like to date someone a lot purer than you? Idc. Do you turn your phone off at night when you go to sleep? No, but I turn the brightness down for if I wake up in the middle of the night and want to check the time. Have you slept in a bed with the last person you kissed? Yeah. Has anyone ever told you that they loved you, and you didn’t say it back? Yes. Has anyone ever played a prank on you? What happened? I don't believe so. Do you like tattoos and piercings? Helllll yes. :') What are you really into? Animals, art, some weird Korean guy on the Internet... Do your parents like your best friends? Yes. Have you ever taken a nap with a member of the opposite sex? Yeah. Do you have weak upper body strength? Yes. What color was the last cup you drank from? It's just clear glass. How old is your oldest sibling? I actually don't know her exact age. 30-something. What was the last thing you ate that had nuts in it? A Nature Valley cashew bar I had earlier today. How many pieces did the last puzzle you completed have? I have no idea. Who did you last shake hands with? uhhhhhhhh Has anybody asked you out on a date recently? Nah. When was the last time somebody asked you to be their girlfriend? When Girt asked me out a few years ago. Name something you’re picky about: Food. Who did you last ask for help? My mom. Do you like corn? Yeah. If you were offered to smoke some weed right now, would you accept? Right now I honestly probably would, believe it or not. Honestly, who is the last person to tell you that they love you? My mum. Have you ever made out for more than a half hour straight? Yeah. How do you earn money? The only occasions where I ever and very rarely earn money is if someone (non-family, of course) pays me to take pictures for them. Where were you raised? All you need to know is a crappy town in eastern NC. Are your ears gauged? No, but I want the first holes in my earlobes to be, but only with very small gauges. I just can't figure out how to do it myself, at least with the gauges I have. I think I'm missing something. Explain what triggered your last kiss? We were saying goodbye. Could you go a month without talking to your best friend? I mean I could, but it'd seriously fucking suck. Have you ever made out in a park? No, because I don't do that in public. What are you listening to? "Paint You With My Love" by Marilyn Manson. I wasn't big on the album when it came out, but this is one of the songs that's aight to me. Last thing you said out loud? I gave Venus a little wave and said "hey babe" or something like that like I do sometimes when she's slithering around and looks out towards me. Are you sad? Always at least a little bit. I have been kinda down this evening. Where is your dad? I would hope at home. He's probably watching TV, or maybe in bed.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''paint me with your love'' by marilyn manson

2 notes · View notes

twohearts-hs · 5 years

Text

‘I’ll Always Be Waiting’ - Shawn Mendes Imagine

Words: 3.4k

Pairing: Shawn Mendes x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: They were together throughout high school, but she had to break it due to their very separate plans. He couldn’t see her leave, so he asked her to make a promise...to meet again in five years.

|| Masterlist in bio ||

They were the ‘it’ couple. Every one of the small high school knew exactly who this couple was. One of the reasons was the fact that they were together throughout the whole of high school, something that doesn’t happen often. It was all just gossip that surrounds the school, but generally, everyone knew that Shawn and Y/N would never break up. There was a saying with that, “I’ll do that when Shawn and Y/N break up” or “It’s just as impossible as the golden couple breaking up”. But, the two of them never focused their lives based on the subtle whispers that surround the school, they were in love and so they lived their lives in one big love bubble.

Shawn remembers the first time he set his eyes on the beauty of mystery. It was his grade ten year and she just moved from Victoria to Pickering. He remembers hanging with his mates as she walked out of the locker room. The beauty was in his first-period gym class. He did anything that day to grab her attention. It was aggravating, seeing her run, seeing her not pay attention. He tried in dodgeball to hit the walls hard to create a noise. He did everything. But, the shy beauty didn’t bat an eye to him.

It was an hour into class when he did something that till this day, he regrets. Y/N was talking to a friend, who was a boy, and Shawn decided to grab her attention once again, by hitting this boy. He didn’t like how he looked at her, like a piece of meat, when all she wanted was a humble conversation.

But, being his clumsy self, he hit her, “Oh my God, I am so sorry,” he rushed right towards her, as Y/N held her face. Tears hit her delicate eyes as Shawn stood in front of him.

“It’s ok, it is all part of the game,” she mumbled looking at the tall boy in front of her. He smiled, doing something so out of there.

He grabbed her hand gently and took it off her face. “You need to ice that,” he mumbled, “it looks painful,” she laughed, nodding.

“You have a powerful throw,” she told him, smiling so beautifully.

“Of course I do, look at these guns,” she laughed and instantly that laugh was the medicine needed to cure everything.

The two got close, him being in her science class. It started with them being partners in gym and him teaching her the rules to every game to her helping him with biology, chemistry and physics. Which created Y/N to go over to his house. Eventually, the two created a bond by October. By November they were a couple.

He was hilarious, she learnt right away, the humour too powerful for her to understand. But, he used that humour wherever he could, so he could hear that laugh of her’s. Their first date was a disaster. Y/N remembers that day so clearly. He invited her over for dinner. Shawn liked her so much that he was putting more than a hundred percent into it. He created a candlelit dinner and tried to cook Kraft dinner, as that was the only thing he could cook. The key word from that was ‘try’. He burnt it, as they were making out on the counter of the kitchen. Her legs were wrapped around his hips as his arms were on her hips. The makeout session was so hot that he burnt the pasta that sat in the pot, ready to go.

Before that, she laughed about how he was going to make her this absolute gourmet dish...when reality it was quite the opposite. Instead, she jumped off the counter, kissed his cheek and he watched as she made him dinner.

Y/N was so good at everything, she went into his pantry and grabbed a few boxes of pasta and went to the fridge and grabbing some things and made this gorgeous white sauce pasta. He was in awe...no he was in love.

Their night was so innocent, stolen kisses shared as he played her his guitar and makeout sessions out on the patio. His mother knew not to interrupt, so she left them to it.

Karen loves that girl, still does after they decided to split. She remembers meeting the future teacher and the minute she heard Y/N’s voice, she knew her son had to marry her, even though they were both 16. She was perfect. But, she did see something that she wishes she didn’t.

They were seventeen when she walked into them having sex. Karen walked in thinking her son was doing homework, when she really saw him on top of his girlfriend, under covers, completely naked. Shawn got all blushy and told his mum to get out. Y/N was not as embarrassed, but laughed, kissing her boyfriend as he rolled off.

“The moment is ruined,” he muttered. She laughed and got dressed and walked downstairs where she was welcomed to a lot of questions by Karen.

“I know you two are seventeen and responsible but-”

“Mum,” Shawn tried to interrupt, but she kept going on about protection.

“Karen, it's ok,” Y/N stated, sitting in the dining room and smiling, “I have an IUD,” she told her as Shawn was too embarrassed to mutter a word. “It's not our first rodeo, we’ve been doing this since we were sixteen,” she told her, grabbing a glass of water.

Karen still knew after that that she was still the one.

Y/N was the start for everything. She told Shawn to go onto YouTube and to write an album. She believed in him. She was also the muse for everything.

But, when he broke the news that he was going on tour again, but for longer and how many opportunities he has, Y/N had to break it with him. She knew the second album would be a hit and she knew that it was best if they took a break as he has the world in his hands and she has school in the U.K. to look forward too.

So, she asked Shawn right before the album dropped to meet her in the forest by her house. She sat on the rock by the small river trying to figure out the words to say. How do you break up with the love of your life? Y/N just turned eighteen, she was an adult, she had a future. Shawn was much more, he was making millions, had fans, doing what he loves. She was an obstacle, in her eyes.

Shawn thought that they were going to go on a date by the river, kiss a little, dance and be themselves. He brought her a rose like he normally did. But, when he saw his girlfriend sitting and watching the river, he knew something was wrong.

He held her hands as she looked down, playing with his fingers and trying to figure out the words.

“Shawn, you’re about to go away,” he knew where this was going to go, he shook his head violently, not wanting her to say the words she was going to say, “you have the whole world in front of you. You are travelling, you are singing, you are doing so much. I have to go to university and I think it is best—”

“No, no, Y/N. No, we can do this. You are going to the local university and I’ll be home soon. I have been looking at a place for us, baby, we are meant to be together. We are gonna get married, have kids,” he muttered, rambling his words.

“I got accepted to the university in London, Shawn,” she told him. He looked at her with a puzzled look.

“What? What university?” he was so confused.

“I did a scholarship thing just for giggles and I got accepted. I am going to be a writer, you are a musician. We are going two separate paths, Shawnie. We can’t be together anymore, honey. If we are supposed to be together forever, then we’ll see each other again, somewhere on our paths,” she stated, getting up and looking at him.

“Y/N, you can’t do this,” she shook her head, still holding his hand as she tried to let go.

“This is me breaking up with you, Shawn,” he looked at her with a blank look.

What ended up was Shawn muttered a sentence and it was impossible to not agree. “One more time, you and me, one more time. Then, five years from now, on this day, at this time, we are going to meet here and we will either be ready to be together or we learnt we aren't supposed to be together,” she agreed.

What they meant for “one more time” was bluntly sex. They were two horny teenagers after all. So they went to his car and had passionate car sex one more time. Then she was gone, and gone for a long time.

Y/N went on and moved to London where she studied her dream and became a journalist for ‘The Times’. Shawn sold out stadiums after stadiums. But, after that night they never talked again.

Shawn went home in tears, first heartbreak and hopefully last. Karen knew that this wasn’t the end of them, but she had to let her son feel what this felt like, learn from it and move on with someone else for the time being.

He did the tour, he took a break and wrote his third album, which was all about her. He unadded her from every social media, he couldn’t bear looking at her summer adventures or spring break trips. Brian would show some pictures, but he’d be in a bad mood for the rest of night, as Y/N would be with another man in the picture. He was territorial when it came to things that are his and this was one situation.

He lived as though Y/N never existed. He fucked girls one after another and she was nowhere to be seen. One moment she was in London, according to Facebook on Brian’s phone, then she was in Barcelona, then Ibiza, etc.; she was unpredictable.

The minute his third album came out, she knew that it was mostly based on her, just like how the few songs on the last one were about her too. The roses on the album cover were because her favourite flower was a rose. ‘Nervous’ was how he stalked this one café because she used to study there. ‘Fallin’ All In You’ was about their relationship and ‘Particular Taste’. ‘When You’re Ready’ hit her hard, the moment she heard it on the radio in her London flat, that was when it clicked, the whole album, besides a few songs were based on her. And all she can say is, “How dare you?”

Y/N knew she would regret this. She knew it, she knew that this was wrong, but she had to. After how many years that they were apart, she was mad at him for the first time. Her innocent teenage self wasn’t there anymore. She had to go through a heartbreak as well, she had to go through money problems and backstabbing friends. She lived, she dealt and fuck she was placed in therapy after what happened with her ex after Shawn.

When Y/N first went to the U.K., she met a really nice businessman who she fell in love with over a course of a few years. But, he was a manipulator and narcissistic bitch. There wasn’t much good in their year and a half relationship, just emotional abuse and manipulation. It really affected her, mentally, emotionally, she wasn’t herself anymore. She was a healing mess.

But, hearing the album from Shawn and the few songs from his second that he added before the album was released, she couldn’t believe him. He pretends that she doesn’t exist, but then sings about her where the world is left wondering, “Who hurt the Shawn Mendes?”

So, her best friend and she went to his concert where he performed the songs he wrote about her. Y/N stood in her spot watching him prance around the stage with his guitar, a smile upon his still beautiful features, yet heartbroken eyes. He couldn’t see her, she made sure that was on purpose. She was far away, but he was so proud about everything and she felt like her seventeen-year-old self once again, blinded by love and admiration.

But, it was the small things she picked up. The screen showing flowers and outlines of a female who looked very similar to her. The rose was her favourite flower when they first met. Shawn used to bring a rose to her on every date. The rose burned on the screen and she knew right then that this was about her.

Y/N left the concert, almost regretting her decision so long ago. She needed a drink and she needed one bad. Her friend left her, saying she had to go home to her fiancé, so Y/N was left to her own misery in the small dimly lit pub.

A half an hour later a sound went off, signally someone came in. She didn’t turn, she just nursed the whiskey in her hand as she stared at it. But, a figure sat next to her. She knew who it was before she looked. She knew the energy, the smell, the feeling. He sat next to her and he had no idea.

“A beer,” he muttered, looking up at the bartender. This was when she had a burst of confidence.

“Perfectly Wrong, When You’re Ready, Particular Taste, Nervous, Ruin, I can go on,” she muttered. He knew the voice right away. His head darted next to himself to the figure he loved so much.

He stared, as she looked up and lined eyes. “Why? Why did you write about me?” she asked, taking a sip from the liquor.

“You’re here,” he muttered, just staring at her. Y/N changed, she truly changed, he noticed.

“I am. I went to school here, I work here, live here, so I am here. Why are you here?” she asked, he couldn’t figure out the words.

“What happened to you?” she laughed, ordering another one and turning herself.

“Not everyone becomes a global superstar and makes millions and is liked by everyone,” she told him. She was so cold, so off, so broken; she hated the world at the moment and he wondered why.

“Right,” he laughed, as he just looked at her with awe, “You are so gorgeous,” he muttered. She laughed.

“Still your charming self, I see. At least one of us is happy,” she told me. He shook his head, running his hands through his hair.

“No, no, Y/N, I am not happy. I haven’t been happy since we broke up,” she shook her head.

“You have two years until we meet again, become happy, find someone,” she said as she left a few pounds on the counter and grabbed her coat.

“Stop,” he said, grabbing her hand and looked at her, “You said that if we are meant to be, our paths would cross. Our paths are crossing right now, honey, they’re fucking crossing,” she shook her head.

“I just got out of a relationship, Shawn. Give me two years and I will see if I am ready,” she said and he shook his head.

“I am ready, I am so ready, baby,” she shook her head.

“But, I am not. You said in your song that you’ll wait, please, just do that for now,” she told him, “I’ll be ready, just give me time. Good concert by the way,” she told me as she waved and left.

She left so fast as she appeared. Y/N was gone again, he lost her again and he didn’t know if he could wait again.

Two years felt like forever, at least for him. He wrote many more songs about her and after a while, she realised that she shouldn’t hate that, he’s still waiting for her. She got over demons and issues and moved back home. She moved to Toronto because she was ready. Her apartment was cute, she went back to school and begin getting an education degree, as she loves to write, but she wants to teach children more.

That was what Shawn loved about her, she wanted to teach everyone. She wanted to be a guide and a teacher and a healer. Her broken heart learned to heal itself but still wondered what happened when she got hurt from her ex. But, she knew Shawn was waiting for her and nobody else was. That was the perfect thing about him, he loved her more than life itself and fuck, she loved him more than the moon and Earth.

So, she went to Toronto, she went to the local university, so when that five-year mark came, he can travel, she could learn and they could be happy.

Of course, the universe loves to tease her. The minute she stepped into the familiar city, he was everywhere, whether it was on bulletin board or actual physical self.

She remembers when she saw him across the street one day, she laughed and still waited. Y/N didn’t want to be creepy, she wanted their paths to cross again, to fulfil each other’s promise. They are waiting for each other and the universe works in wonderful ways to make them cross.

They had 3 months left, she has been in the city for a year. It was a cold fall morning, walking into the café and setting everything up. She loved this little place, she loved watching people interact, learn, talk, fall in love. Another thing Shawn loves about her, she was in love with the world itself. Her hands were numb from the Canadian cold and were regaining it’s feeling when she turned the kettle on.

The bell rang, she looked up, seven in the morning. She wondered who would be there.

Shawn shivered from the cold as he entered the local café close to the studio. It was early, too early for him. He prefers the duvet of his bed and warm apartment than the cold fall morning on a Monday.

Y/N came around the corner, a smile upon her face, messy ponytail and cute sweater. This was her, this was the woman he fell in love with all those years ago. The girl in the London pub wasn’t her, this was her.

“Hi,” she muttered, a wider smile came to her face. He just stared in awe.

“You’re here,” he muttered, nerves taking him, “you’re in Toronto. What the fuck are you doing here?” she laughed, loved how confused he was/

“I came back,” she told him from across the counter, he nodded, hands coming out of his pocket and running through his hair; a nervous tick. “Three months,” she muttered.

“What?” he asked, still not believing she was right in front of him.

“Three months till the river. But, I set a rule that if our paths—”

“Crossed than we are really meant to be,” he finished.

“This is our path crossing, Shawnie,” she told him, using the nickname.

“Yeah, it really is,” he smiled, laughing. Y/N came behind the counter towards him.

“I’m ready when you are,” she told him, “you are travelling the world, I am going to the local university studying education, there’s a cute apart-”

She was interrupted by his lips on hers, a passionate kiss shared between them. Y/N smiled into the kiss, grabbing his curls as they rocked back and forth, pulling away and hugging each other and little tears are shared between them.

“Thank you for waiting,” she told him, pulling away.

“Marry me?” he muttered out, she laughed.

“One day, mister, one day,” she told him, grabbing his cheeks and kissing his lips, “I am not going anywhere hun.”

Tag list - comment, DM, inbox to be added/removed :)

@alinashawn @mendesnecessary @claredolphinbear24 @notunlimited @harrysahottie @ashwarren32 @iimagineloves @i-am-bisexual-and-a-girl @purple-cream-cheese @shawns-mendess @lilya-petrichor @laggyphone @winchesterwife27 @neverlandqueen15 @kissme-hs

#shawn mendes #shawn #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes imagines #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes preferences #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes smut

445 notes · View notes

let-it-raines · 4 years

Text

your wonder under summer skies (9/?)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

rating: mature

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 |

-/-

“Do you have on sunscreen?”

“I basically took a bath in it, Marg.”

“You’re looking a little red.”

Emma sighs and looks down at her chest before turning to her shoulders. She’s the slightest bit pink, and she sighs. Dammit. She sprayed herself down twice before she got here, and it’s only been an hour since she’s been outside.

“Do you want to finish the rest of these inside then?”

“We’ve only got a few left, but you need to make sure to reapply before we go out to the festival.”

Emma nods and keeps stuffing bags with water bottles and snacks. They’ve got to get these to Ashley and Aurora before lunchtime and then need to get to the dining rooms to check on their members. Mary Margaret can leave after that since the club is mostly shutting down early to encourage everyone to support local businesses and the festival, but Emma’s got to meet with two brides before she can go. She doesn’t know why the hell they picked her to coordinate over Mary Margaret, and if she got paid by commission, she’d really appreciate that. Since she doesn’t, though, and really only wants to get a tan and eat funnel cake, she’s not too interested in having to talk weddings for a few hours.

“So,” Mary Margaret hums, “have you met the new Sheriff?”

“Nope. David likes him, doesn’t he?”

“David loves him! Oh, Emma, he’s just great! David says he’s organized and always on time, and he’s great at building morale. We had him over for dinner last night, and he was the sweetest thing. Very handsome, too.”

Emma’s hand falters on the bag of animal crackers she’s holding before she drops them in the bag and glances over at Mary Margaret, who is doing her best to avoid looking Emma in the eye.

Smooth, Marg. Real smooth.

“No.”

“No? I didn’t even say anything!”

“You are about as subtle as a gun, Mary Margaret Noland. You’re trying to set me up with the new Sheriff, and I’m not interested. I mean, I just broke up with Neal.”

“A month a half a go!”

“After five years, a month and a half doesn’t seem like that long, does it?”

Mary Margaret finally has the courage to look at her, and Emma wants to be annoyed. She really does. She just can’t seem to find it in her today to do that.

Good intentions, she reminds herself. Mary Margaret and David nearly always have good intentions.

Doesn’t mean she has to like them.

“I’m not ready to date someone, and I don’t think the new Sheriff is rebound material for me.”

“Well, why not?”

“Because you like him, and David works with him. Do you really want for things to be awkward when I inevitably break up with him?”

Mary Margaret’s sigh can probably be heard in Australia. “How do you know you’re going to break up with him?”

“Because I’m not ready to date! I just said that. I’m not too interested in getting hurt again.”

“Oh, Emma, those walls of yours may keep out pain, but they also may keep out love.”

She’s going to crush these poor kids’ animal crackers if her fist doesn’t loosen soon.

Good intentions.

Good fucking intentions.

“Marg,” she whispers, “I had my trust ruined by a man I thought I could have been with forever. That doesn’t just go away, okay? You’ve been with David for your entire life. You guys have only been apart for two days in fifteen years. I’m sorry, but you can’t possibly understand what I’m going through right now or how damn hard it is to know that Neal is still in this town walking around with Tamara without a care in the world. I loved him, and that wasn’t enough yet again. So maybe just let me have some time, okay? Let me be able to see Neal walking down the street and not have a meltdown. I’m not ready to seriously date someone else.”

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean – ”

“It’s fine,” Emma lies as she inhales and tries to get some much-needed air into her lungs. “Let’s just finish up here. The sooner we’re done, the sooner I can get to my funnel cakes.”

“You and those funnel cakes.”

“They’re the best part of the holiday.”

“Not the fireworks?”

“Nah, it’s the funnel cakes.”

Mary Margaret drops the conversation, and she miraculously doesn’t bring up anything having to do with relationships for the rest of their day. It’s all updates on the bathroom renovation in the house and David’s new obsession with homemade lasagna, which Granny is definitely going to be pissed about. Then she moves onto Elsa and Liam’s wedding, which does verge a little into the relationship territory but is also their job, so she lets it slide.

Mary Margaret was very much meant to help others plan their wedding days. The sparkle in her eyes alone shows that.

After they check in with the two luncheons that are happening, Mary Margaret takes her leave and goes home, promising to meet Emma at Eric’s restaurant later tonight. Emma’s brides are both early, both far too overenthusiastic, but they keep under their hour-long appointments, and by four, Emma is in her car and on her way home to change and get ready for tonight.

The funnel cakes are still calling her name.

As soon as she gets home, she takes her shoes off at the door, heads back to her room and changes into a bikini before pulling on a pair of jean shorts and an old flannel shirt. It’s too big on her, and when she looks down at it, she realizes it’s Killian’s. For a moment, she considers changing, but it’s comfortable and will be warm for after the sun sets.

Plus, his cologne is still lingering, and he wears some damn good cologne.

It’ll also annoy the hell out of him if she doesn’t give his shirt back, so the benefits of keeping it on continue rolling in.

Getting to the boardwalk is nearly impossible with the roads blocked off for some of the rides and booths that have been brought in, so Emma ends up turning around and driving on the outskirts of downtown before finding parking outside of Killian’s place.

Skipper greets her through the window of a back office, and Emma taps on the window before looping around and heading through the back door so she doesn’t set off that damn alarm.

“Hey, boy,” she greets, “hey, you working hard, my friend? Giving yourself a case for employee of the month?”

“I am employee of the month, always.”

Emma jumps and backs up against the wall to close her eyes and take a few deep breaths to calm her heartbeat.

“Where did you come from?”

“So, my mum and dad, somehow, had sex, and then – ”

“Somehow? Do you think parents don’t have sex? That’s how we all get here.”

“My parents hated each other for most of my life. I can’t imagine them ever liking each other enough to want to sleep together.”

“Hate sex is a thing.”

“I will pay you to stop talking.”

“Really? How much?”

Killian steps up to her and dips his head until his lips brush across the shell of her ear. “Whatever your heart desires.”

A shiver works itself down her spine and up over her arms as gooseflesh appears, and Emma’s breath stutters. “I’ll stop talking if you buy me a funnel cake.”

“I’ll buy you two.” His teeth tug down on her ear before his lips brush against her cheek, and then he’s pulling back and putting some space between them. “Give me twenty minutes to set up the answering machine, and then we’ll walk to Ariel’s together. Can you feed Skipper for me?”

“Is he not coming with us?”

“No, I didn’t want to have to keep up with him tonight, and the fireworks scare him.”

“Do they scare you, buddy?” she says to the dog as she scratches his ears. “They scare you, and your dad is going to make you stay here all by yourself? That’s not very nice.”

“I’ll leave the TV on for him, Swan. He won’t hear a thing.”

“You love Killian so you can’t see his flaws, but a good owner would never leave you.”

Emma snickers as Killian groans behind her. “If you want to walk him for the next several hours, feel free.”

“Nah, I’m good. Is the food upstairs?”

“In the kitchen.”

Emma nods and starts walking up the stairs, whistling so Skipper will follow her up, and when she gets to the kitchen, she finds the bag of food, pours it in the bowl, and then refreshes his water bowl while he eats. A bit of water accidentally splashes on the counter, and Emma picks up the mail that got wet to try to keep it from getting even more wet.

“Going through my mail then?”

“Good God,” Emma breathes out, “do the two of you insist on scaring the shit out of me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Emma sighs, turning around to see Liam. “Your brother just scared me when I walked in the office downstairs. I swear the two of you don’t have footsteps sometimes.”

Liam shrugs. “Is he downstairs?”

“Yeah, he’s making sure everything’s all set for you two to take the night off. Elsa told me you found tuxes you like. You know, if you have enough groomsmen, they might give you a discount on rentals or on yours if you want to buy it. I know you haven’t decided on everyone, but it’s something to think about.”

Liam’s lips press into a forced smile. “I will keep that in mind.”

Silence falls between them, and Emma awkwardly shuffles the mail in her hand before dropping it back to the counter. She doesn’t remember the last time she was in a room alone with just Liam, and really, she should be better at coming up with small talk since she has to do it all day every day.

Or, maybe, she can’t do it now because she’s just so damn tired of doing it and can’t put in the effort.

“So, would you happen to know who my brother is seeing?”

Emma nearly chokes on air. “What?”

“Do you know who Killian is seeing?” Liam repeats, stepping closer as the floor creaks below him. “You two are close, and, I don’t know, he’s keeping who he’s seeing from me, which he’s never done before. I figured you…I guess I was curious and wanted to know.”

Oh God.

No. Just no.

She is not having this conversation, especially when this conversation is about her.

Not that Liam knows that.

Hopefully.

Wait. Is it her? Or is he seeing someone else? He could definitely be seeing someone else at this point. She thought he would have told her, though. That was the agreement.

He definitely would have told her. Killian is a man of his word. Of that, she is sure.

“Is he seeing someone?”

Liam clicks his tongue, and damn, that is such a Jones thing to do. “I assume. He doesn’t come home some nights, occasionally takes a longer lunch than usual, and I swear he’s been sneaking someone in and out.”

Oh shit.

How many times has Liam almost caught them? That’s not good at all. At least she hasn’t had to jump out the window again. That was a pain in the ass. Literally.

“Look,” she sighs as she straightens her back, “even if did know who he was seeing, it wouldn’t be my place to tell you his secrets. If he’s not telling you, I’m sure he has his reasons.”

Liam’s eyes narrow as he crosses his arms over his chest, and if she got a dollar for every time he did that, she’d be rich. “So, he is seeing someone?”

“I don’t know. Let him tell you whatever he wants to tell you. He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”

“Doesn’t hurt to have someone else helping him out.”

“It does if that someone can be overbearing.”

“Are you referring to me?”

“I really feel like I don’t have to say who I’m referring to.”

“Hey, you ready to go? Ariel texted and – oh, hey, Liam.”

Liam blinks, slowly, before turning from Emma to look at Killian. “What did Ariel say?”

“Just that she’s got the big table on the deck saved for all of us. Do you want to walk with us or are you waiting for Elsa?”

“I can walk with the two of you. Elsa is working in a booth, remember?”

“Of course. We’ll have to stop by and get some ice cream after we get Emma her funnel cakes.”

“Funnel cakes, ice cream, and dinner at Eric’s? That’s quite the spread, lass.”

Emma pats her stomach and smirks at Liam. She guesses their conversation from earlier is done. “What can I say? I like food, and the fair only comes to town once a year.”

“I thought the club put on a fair in August.”

“That’s for kids, and we don’t have funnel cakes. Come on, Joneses, I’m ready to go.”

Killian and Liam spend the entire walk talking about a baseball game from last night, and as much as Emma enjoys it, she really only enjoys watching it, not debating about it when the game is over and done with. She knows she’ll have to debate it when she and Killian go to New York next month, but for now, she drowns them out and looks around the boardwalk. String lights are hung above them, criss-crossing between buildings and stalls, and she can’t wait for the sun to set so they can be turned on. There’s something weirdly magical about fairy and bulb lights when they come on, and really, she’s looking forward to that more than the fireworks.

Obviously, she’s got high-standards for things that she enjoys.

Kids keep running in front of them, not looking where they’re going, and Emma almost trips at least twice before Killian tugs her back so she’s not walking slightly ahead of the two of them.

She would have loved being able to do things like this as a kid. It would have made her life just to be able to waste all of her money on these rigged games trying to win a stuffed animal, but she was never given the opportunity. Now, she knows better than to waste money on something she has no need for.

Except for the funnel cakes, which she can now smell.

“KJ, you owe me two funnel cakes. I’m cashing in on one now.”

He turns his head and raises his brow. “Now? We’re about to get dinner?”

Emma points to the stand a few feet ahead of her. “I can smell it. I need it.”

“There’s quite a line at that booth.”

Emma stops walking and tugs on Killian’s t-shirt while batting her eyelashes. She knows it doesn’t work, but it’s all she’s got. “C’mon. The table will still be waiting for us.”

“You two go,” Liam says. “I think I’m going to see if Elsa needs help. She said she her summer staff working, but I’m sure she might like the company.”

“You could also go let those teenagers enjoy the carnival.”

“That was my plan, little brother.”

“Younger.”

Liam winks and smiles. “It’s the same.”

“No, it’s bloody well not,” Killian shouts as Liam walks away, waving as he goes.

“You two have a very weird relationship.”

“You have no idea,” he sighs, wrapping his arm around Emma’s shoulder and pulling her closer until his lips and lightly brushing against her temple, and she swears that he breathes her in. That would be ridiculous, though. “Let’s get you funnel cake one.”

“I would riot if you didn’t.”

The funnel cake is as delicious as she thought it would be, and she doesn’t even care that her lips and her fingers are undoubtedly covered in sugar now. She can look like a clown to everyone as long as she keeps getting to eat this pure, sweet sugar.

Even if Eric is a little agitated with her when they get to the restaurant.

“Are you bringing in outside food to my restaurant?”

“Yep.” She pops another piece in her mouth and makes sure to exaggerate her chewing. “And unless you made onion rings today, this is going to be the best thing here.”

“You do know I am an excellent chef, right? And I can make food other than junk food.”

“She has the palette of a child.” Killian gently tugs on a piece of her hair and pulls her in closer. “Don’t try forcing anything else. It’s not worth it. I, however, will take all of the good food you’ve got.”

“And that is why you’re my favorite.”

“Hey,” Ariel grumbles.

“Besides you, obviously.” Eric shakes his head and smiles. “You two go sit down. I have to get back to the kitchen.”

“It’s never going to be as good as this funnel cake.”

“Shut up.”

Emma sticks her tongue out at Eric because she is the height of maturity. Obviously.

She maneuvers out of Killian’s hold and walks to the table, pulling out the chair across from Ruby while Killian sits down next to her.

“Why are you two so late? Did you finally decide to fuck each other?”

The funnel cake she was chewing gets stuck in her throat, and Emma starts coughing, doing anything to try to get air while her cheeks have got to be turning the color of tomatoes.

“Ruby,” Mary Margaret hisses, “there are children around. Don’t use that word.”

“Why? That’s how they got here.”

“Funny, I feel like I’ve already had this conversation today.”

“So, you were fu – sleeping together then? I knew it!”

“We,” Emma breathes out as she still hits her chest, “are not sleeping together. Why is your mind always in the gutter?”

Ruby scoffs and picks up her wine. “My mind is not in the gutter. I’m just saying that you two are both very hot, and you’ve got this whole sexual tension thing going on. We’re all waiting for it to happen. One day you’re just going to show up and tell us that you’re secretly in love.”

Emma rolls her eyes as Killian’s hand falls against her thigh underneath the table. “We are not secretly in love. And we are not sleeping together.”

His fingers inch further up her thigh, and a shiver runs down her spine.

Asshole.

Killian is the better liar than Emma, so, really, he should be the one lying to all of their friends right now. It’s not really a conversation she thought would ever come up, but it’s Ruby: nothing is safe.

“I’ve always thought you two would be a nice couple,” Mary Margaret sighs. “I mean, you were always with Neal, so I never said anything but – ”

“Never said anything? You talk about it all the time, honey.”

“David, that is not true.”

“It is. You love meddling in other people’s business, and since Ruby is, well, Ruby, the only two you really like to plot about are Emma and Killian.”

“Excuse me? Plot?” Killian raises his brow before winking at Emma. “You’ve been plotting about us?”

Mary Margaret’s face is as red as Emma’s was earlier, and if the woman wasn’t at least showing some remorse, Emma would be agitated.

Maybe she still should be, but she’s obviously on some kind of funnel cake high where nothing can piss her off, even having her personal life examined for the second time in one day.

“I have not,” Mary Margaret protests, flustered. “All I want is for you two to be happy! I thought Emma was all settled, and I really wanted someone for Killian. Now, though, you’re both single, so you know…”

Killian’s fingers tickle along her thigh before he squeezes. She really hopes Ariel cannot see underneath the table.

“And Eric says I’m the meddler,” Ariel sighs.

“You are all meddlers,” Emma finally says. “Each and every one of you. You all need hobbies like painting or reading or, hell, crocheting. Anything to keep you occupied so that Killian and I can keep living our lives.”

“Yeah, living your lives totally wrong.” Ruby swishes her wine glass and tilts it toward Emma. “I’m just saying – when, and I do mean when, you two get together, I want a personalized gift and the ability to say ‘I told you so’ as much as I want without reproach.”

“What kind of personalized gift?” Killian asks. “Just so I can prepare for when Emma finally falls for my charms and kisses me.”

Emma laughs and turns to the side, gently pushing Killian’s arm.

Asshole.

Cocky, annoying asshole.

“Please,” she scoffs, “you couldn’t handle it.”

Killian leans in, eyes slanted and lips curled up to the right while his tongue flickers across his teeth. Emma gulps, but she doesn’t blink, even when Killian’s finger hooks inside the hem of her shorts.

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

Glass rattles as someone smacks the table. “See,” Ruby groans, “just look at all of that untapped chemistry. I feel frustrated just looking at the two of you.”

“Okay,” David squawks, his voice breaking, “please change the subject. There’s only so much of this I can take. It’s like hearing about my little sister’s sex life.”

“See, maybe if you weren’t so overprotective of Emma, it wouldn’t be like that.”

“She’s our friend. I can’t help it if I am. And you’re one to talk, Mary Margaret.”

“What does that mean?”

“We just talked about what it means.”

Killian laughs at their friends bickering before leaning into Emma’s space even more. He never really moved out of it, but she didn’t notice.

“For the record,” he whispers as his nail traces along her skin, “we both know that I can handle it.”

Emma swallows the lump in her throat, and she can suddenly feel her heart beating, faster and faster and faster until she feels it between her ears while she blinks at Killian and tries to form some kind of coherent response.

Where the hell did all of her words go?

“Do you think Eric would hate us if we ordered the pizza?” Ruby asks.

“He just yelled at Emma for bringing in a funnel cake and wanting onion rings, so I think that’s a possibility.”

Killian winks once more and then turns from her so that all she can see is his jawline. “You guys do know this is a seafood restaurant, right? With damn good seafood. He only sells the other things for the tourists. We are not tourists.”

“It’s the fourth of July carnival. We’re all tourists for the night.”

They end up getting the pizza.

Eric is beyond pissed off at it, but absolutely no one cares, especially when Will and Belle walk in and order another one because the first two were completely obliterated. Robin stops by with Roland for five minutes to get food, but then Robin is being dragged off because Roland wants to do go on the spinning tea cups that are set up in city hall’s parking lot.

Emma has eaten so much tonight that she definitely can’t imagine being on anything that spins around.

Especially when Killian still owes her another funnel cake. It’s too bad they don’t keep well in the fridge.

“I have to go make some rounds,” David announces as he stands from the table. “Do we have any other plans for tonight?”

“I have to go back to work,” Ruby says.

“Yeah, me too,” Ariel adds in.

“Belle and I are free.”

“As are Emma and I,” Killian says. “Mary Margaret, what about you?”

“I think I might walk around with David, but do you all want to meet back at your place for the fireworks at ten? I think the roof will be the best place to view them.”

“Sounds perfect, lass. We’ll see you then.”

Belle suggests watching around to work off dinner and see if there’s anything new this year, so they start with the booths on the side of the boardwalk no one has been down yet. It’s emptier because it’s away from all of the rides, but there are plenty of food stalls, a few games, and several booths from small businesses around town. Belle immediately finds a stall selling books for a dollar a piece, and she ends up getting two tote bags that Will grumbles about carrying. Killian buys the one book Belle didn’t snatch up, folds it, and sticks it in the back pocket of his jeans.

Emma swears that Belle nearly has an aneurism over that.

“Hey, look, love.” Killian points over to a booth with balloons pinned to the wall.

“What exactly am I looking at?” He grabs her hand and pulls it in front of them to point back to the booth. “Still not getting it, KJ.”

“The prizes. I think there’s one you might like.”

Emma steps a little closer and then sees it at the very top of the shelf. It’s a giant white swan stuffed animal.

Oh.

Well, yeah, that is kind of cute and very apt for her name, but it’s pointless to look at it. She has no need for a stuffed animal, even if she was thinking about it earlier, and she definitely isn’t about to waste money on it. But it was a nice thought.

“Cute,” Emma laughs as she keeps walking only for Killian to tug on her arm and pull her back. “What? What are you doing?”

His lips curl up. “I’m going to win you that damn swan, Swan.”

She rolls her eyes.

He’s an idiot.

Just…a big idiot, but there’s this feeling in her gut, this dumb one that she hates, that wants him to win her the damn swan. She wants to have that experience she so craved as a child, even if she does still think that games like this are still pointless.

She wants.

In the back of her mind, she thinks back to Neal never even offering to walk around the carnival with her. He always said it was stupid and that he would not be showing up. It was never so much that he wouldn’t come here, but it was more that he was like that with everything that was important to Emma.

How could she be so stupid?

And how could she still feel like she loves him?

Loved him? Definitely loved.

There are no feelings of affection left, not even in memories. She’s just so fucking pissed sometimes.

“Killian, you don’t have to – ”

But he’s not listening to her. Instead, he’s already standing in front of the booth, cash on the table, and darts in his hand.

He pops a balloon on the first try.

“Woah, were did that aim come from?”

“I’d say the Navy, but I think it might be natural talent.”

The guy in the booth rolls his eyes, but Emma doesn’t care. He’s probably dulled the darts and gotten some kind of indestructible balloons to make sure no one wins anything, but as Emma keeps watching, Killian keeps popping the balloons. It takes him several tries and far too much money, especially when Will rejoins them and starts heckling him, but eventually he gets the stuffed Swan from the top of the rack and hands it to Emma.

It’s so dumb.

(But it’s not.)

(Things like this never are.)

Emma holds onto the swan as they keep walking around until she stops and gets something to drink. Then she hands it to Killian, who holds it in his hand that’s draped over Emma’s shoulder so that the damn beak keeps hitting against her cheek as they walk.

“You’re being obnoxious,” Emma laughs as Killian keeps poking the beak against her cheek. “You’re an actual child, Jones.”

“I’ve never said I was mature. It might also be all of the sugar I’ve had today.”

“Having one bite of a funnel cake does not count as having a lot of sugar.”

He pokes the beak in her face one more time before she turns on him so she can see the frankly obnoxious grin he’s sporting.

Maybe that little bit of funnel cake was a lot of sugar for him.

“You know, Swan, I used to think you were kind to me, but that thought is disappearing.”

“Is it now?”

“Mhm.” He wraps the swan around her neck before placing his hands on her hips. Emma glances around, searching for Will and Belle, but they’re nowhere to be seen. When did they run off? “And apparently all of our friends think we have some kind of sexual tension going on, that we’re compatible, and that’s just not true.”

His fingers inch toward her ass, and Emma cranes her neck to try and figure out how long it would take to get to Killian’s place. That’s where they’re supposed to be headed anyway.

“Oh, no, it’s definitely not true. We don’t get along at all. You’re getting a little brave touching my ass right now. I don’t think we can, you know, on the middle of the boardwalk.”

“Well, we could, but then David would arrest us.”

Emma grabs onto his hand and moves it off her ass. “Then let’s not do that. Let’s – ”

Her words die on the tip of her tongue as her gaze falls upon the last person she ever expected to see here.

Neal.

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings @mrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @sherifemma @galaxyzxstark @galadriel26 @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @elizabeethan @captain-emmajones @csalltheway @itsfabianadocarmo

#your wonder under summer skies #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #Captain Swan

104 notes · View notes

notorious-lightning-thief · 4 years

Text

The Stag and the Doe Chapter Three

Here is a peak at Chapter Three! Read the complete story on Ao3

What happens when Lily runs into James Potter while running around Diagon Alley after a terrible fight with her sister?

Chapter Three: With Milk and Two Sugars

Lily Evans was a young, bright, and beautiful witch. She was well-known for her poise, grace, and her canning ability to keep a cool head under pressure. Right now, she was anything but that. She was a bloody mess.

Tears streamed down her face as she marched determinedly through Diagon Alley with only one destination in mind: away. The argument she had with her sister and her stepfather just over an hour ago kept replaying in her head.

"I'll have you know I'm not coming home for Christmas. And I'm certainly not coming to your wedding!" Lily yelled at her sister, Petunia.

Their argument started when Petunia barged into Lily's room and accused her of taking her precious necklace that her boyfriend Vernon had given her. A little tuff had soon escalated to a full-fledged shouting match. Before long, the girls were at each other's throat in a competitive battle to see who could hurt the other one more.

"Good, no one wanted you there anyway!" Petunia yelled back.

"I hope you and your husband have a happy life together," Lily told her.

"I hope you have a happy life alone," she spat.

"Girls, please stop yelling," the girls' stepfather, Joseph, said timidly. He had been watching their screeching match anxiously. "The neighbors have already called twice asking if everything was ok—"

"Like you're not glad to be rid of me, too," Lily said. She grabbed her bags and started for the door.

"We wanted you gone ages ago, but no one had the heart to tell you," Petunia said, following Lily. "Especially Joseph, but since you were Mum's favorite, he couldn't say anything.

Lily swallowed a big gulp of air to prevent herself from crying. What she was saying was true; Lily knew it, Petunia knew it, Joseph knew it; it just hurt to finally hear someone say it.

"I'm leaving," she said quieter this time.

"You said that already," Petunia pointed out. "Go! Leave! Your freaky friends are the only ones that want you if you can call them friends. I bet you're even a freak among freaks."

"You've never been able to accept me for what I am!" Lily screamed. "Either of you! If Mum was still here—"

"Yeah, well, she's not," Petunia said heartlessly.

Lily then gave them a departing glare and added, "Enjoy your Lily-free life."

Petunia's words still stung an hour later. True to her word, Lily had packed up her room and departed for London, knowing that she would most likely never see her sister or her childhood home again. Without having a real destination in mind, Lily made her way to London. The Hogwarts Express didn't leave for another week, which meant she needed to find a temporary home, which is how she ended up checking-in at the Leaky Cauldron.

She now found herself wandering aimlessly through the streets of Diagon Alley, wondering how she managed to get herself into such a mess.

Calm down, Lily thought to herself. You knew this was coming. Things between us have been rocky for ages, even before mum died.

It was true. Things with her sister had been in shambles ever since Lily first left for Hogwarts nearly six years ago. Throughout those years, the Evans girls lost both their mother and their father. Instead of bringing the girls closer together, it only drove them farther apart.

This is your last year at Hogwarts, Lily chastised herself. It's time to start looking forward to the future.

Hogwarts had always been a safe haven for Lily. She needed that now more than ever. Not only were things crumbling in her Muggle life, but things in the wizarding world were looking bleaker and bleaker every day.

Lord Voldemort and his followers were on the warpath, and Muggleborns were their number one target. Not a day went by that a murder wasn't reported about in The Daily Prophet. Lily's future hung in a delicate balance. Being a Muggleborn herself, she was always looking over her shoulder in both the Muggle world and the Wizarding world. Even at Hogwarts, she didn't feel completely safe. Not after everything that went down with her ex-best friend, Severus Snape.

Woah girl don't go down that path, Lily tried to calm herself as that fateful day from the end of fifth year came to mind. Screw Severus, screw Petunia, screw Voldemort. This is my last year at Hogwarts, and I'll be damned if it isn't the best year of my life.

With that thought in mind, she closed her eyes and took a few calming breaths to collect herself. Don't let them see they have gotten to you. Keep your head held high.

Feeling much more put together than she did ten minutes ago, Lily took a few steps forward to start back on her way. She didn't get very far when she ran straight into someone, nearly sending them both into the ground.

Two hands grabbed her shoulders, two very strong and sturdy hands. "I am so sorry, are you alright?" Lily's savior said, steadying them both.

"It's my fault. I wasn't looking at where I was going." Lily's arms were trapped in front of her, resting lightly on the man's chest as the stranger continued to hold her shoulders.

"Alright, Evans?" the voice said. She knew that voice. She knew that line. Lily's eyes snapped up, and she found herself looking at the face of the last person she would want to run into right now, James Potter. This is not how she wanted to see James for the first time since admitting her crush on him two months ago.

"Potter?!" Lily exclaimed. Lily felt a blush creeping its way up her neck and towards her cheek. She was still pressed tightly against his chest and couldn't help but notice how broad and firm it was. She found herself actively resisting the urge to run her hands all over it.

She cleared her throat and quickly straightened herself out. She stepped out of his arms and questioned, "What are you doing here?".

"Back to school shopping," he replied with a broad smile. His smile wavered when he got a good look at Lily's face, and she knew exactly what he was seeing. Her eyes were puffy and red, her hair was a tangled mess of curls, and the blush that was clearly visible on her cheeks, but that she knew had nothing to do with the events that happened earlier, but with the handsome man that stood in front of her right now.

"Seriously, Lily, are you alright?" James asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, just a little embarrassed at how clumsy I am. Sorry for nearly taking you down," Lily laughed, trying to lighten the situation.

"It was completely my fault," James said, which was a lie, but she appreciated it anyway. "It's good to see you."

Once again, Lily was reminded just how much James Potter had changed. All last year she watched and took note as James stopped hexing people, stop drawing attention to himself, and stopped his insistent unwanted advances on her. Because of this, they had been able to develop a tentative friendship that mostly involved awkward small talk when they found themselves sitting together in the Great Hall or in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Their newfound friendship had also led to them nearly kissing on several occasions. Occasions she had been fantasizing about all summer long.

"It's good to see you, too, James," Lily responded. "Fancy running into you here."

James laughed. "Literally. You don't seem alright though, Lily. Have you been crying?"

Dammit, Lily thought. Not only had James Potter stopped talking about himself constantly, but he had also started being an observant and sensitive person, much to Lily's dismay at this particular point in time.

"Is it that obvious?" Lily sniffled. It was clearly written all over her face. Lily hated showing weakness, she hated crying, and she hated doing both of those things in front of James Potter.

"Just a little," James offered a small smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she snapped. She felt bad after looking at the pain on his face. She was being unfair, and she knew it. "It's just family stuff. Thank you for offering, but I think I just need to get my mind off things. That's what I was trying to do anyway. Didn't really work out that well since I nearly took down the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain."

James laughed. "It takes a lot more than a pretty girl knocking into me to take me down." James looked at her thoughtfully, perhaps worried by calling her "pretty." James had lasted all sixth year without asking Lily Evans on a date, a personal record. However, they still ran into moments like this where James would drop an off-handed compliment, or Lily would catch him staring at her for a few seconds too long.

Lily quickly brushed the compliment off, "That's good to hear. I wouldn't want to take you out before the season even started. I would be labeled 'Public Enemy Number One' within Gryffindor Tower."

"McGonagall would have your head," they both laughed at this. It was safe to say their Head of House was more than just a little aggressive when it came to her Quidditch Team. She took a lot of pride in maintaining their claim as Quidditch Cup Champions.

While they laughed, she couldn't help but notice just how damn handsome he was. She had always known James was good looking, even when she despised him. But recently, she started realizing that he was drop-dead gorgeous. She found herself fantasizing about him more and more each day in more graphic detail. Friends can think about each other that way, right? God, I sure hope James Potter is not an accomplished Legilimens, Lily prayed.

"Do you want some company?" James asked shyly. That was new. James Potter was never shy, especially not while asking her out.

That's not what he's doing, Lily corrected herself. He's just being a good friend. That's what you are now, friends.

"Sure," Lily responded with a smile.

Read the rest of the chapter on Ao3

5 notes · View notes

britesparc · 4 years

Text

Weekend Top Ten #443

Top Ten American High School Movies

So this week the kids are going back to school after their summer break, which is always a moment fraught with emotion (for us, not for them, they love school). However it’s even more of an angst-fest than usual this year, because notwithstanding ongoing and genuine concerns over just how safe school is and will remain, there’s also the fact that they’ve been at home all the time since March. This is probably the single greatest period of time all four of us has been in the house together. It’s madness, but it’s also glorious. Weirdly, I’m finding myself getting nostalgic for the beginning of lockdown; there’s a part of me that’ll miss organising their lessons every night and imposing a rough-hewn sense of order and schedule to the working day, the pair of them sat at the kitchen table doing printed-off worksheets or playing educational games from the BBC or wherever. As well as spending time together there was also a frisson of newness, a sense of shared learning and the feeling that, even if my work had dried up in lockdown and we were stuck at home, everyone was in the same boat so it didn’t really matter. We felt relatively safe in our little bubble, every wary step outside an adventure. They drew a mountain of pictures. I still didn’t finish my book. We bought a big monitor so it was easier for my wife to work from home. Good times, unless you turned on the news.

Anyway, they’re going back, notwithstanding further catastrophic spikes in infection rates. Everything’s going to keep being different, but in a different way. I’ll have to get used to dealing with pick-ups and drop-offs and I’ll probably always be worrying about what – and who – they’ve touched. But hopefully we’ll get used to it, hopefully no one will get sick, and it’s unquestionably beneficial for them to be in school with their teachers and friends and all that jazz.

So! School. I don’t wanna get maudlin or angsty about it, so I’m looking at schools through a prism of fun. And what’s more fun than a vaguely fantastical simulacrum of school life, filtered through a gauze of foreign motifs? American high school movies have been a mainstay of cinema all my life, and the tropes and trappings of their school life are almost as familiar as my own schooling. The same but different, the world of lockers in the corridor, gym class, jocks and nerds, cheerleaders, kids in cars, spelling bees and science fairs, all felt like a wish-fulfilment dream of a better, more grown-up school life. To turn the TV on for a second, the likes of Grange Hill paled in comparison to Saved by the Bell as far as I was concerned. Like Hogwarts, an American school was a cool school, a school you’d wish to go to, but that you knew didn’t really exist. I’m sure real high school life is not very much like it is in Clueless, for instance.

But – hey! – that’s all fine. Hospitals aren’t much like Grey’s Anatomy either, and I bet space is bugger all like Star Trek.

Anyway. Here are my favourite American high school movies. Enjoy.

10 Things I Hate About You (1999): using the weight of Shakespeare helps give the story strength and heft, but it succeeds in having one of those glorious teen casts of future greats. Perfectly pitched comedy as we unravel some teen archetypes, and at least one moment of stand-our brauvora spectacle as Heath Ledger serenades Julia Stiles. One of those scenes where you watch an unknown become a movie star in real time.

Clueless (1995): another teen film smartly utilising the classics, this gives us an even more stylised world in which to unpick those stereotypes, as seemingly vapid but good-natured Cher looks beyond her preconceptions. Gentle satire gives way to a cute romance, and in Dan Hedaya it boasts the best teen movie dad of all time.

Heathers (1988): a very dark but very funny look at high school life, as the supposed “it crowd” of glamorous girls and studly boys are, well, murdered by put upon outsiders. A satire on American exceptionalism but also a peek into the mindset of fundamentalism as their campaign continues to escalate to frightening extremes.

Brick (2005): using the tropes and trappings of a high school to present an alternative version of a classic mystery noir, this is less about examining existing stereotypes and cultures than twisting them to serve its plot and style. Invents its own teen slang, Clueless-style, but does so with a thirties gangster vibe, and expertly meshes these two worlds in a way that seems obvious.

The Faculty (1998): “the teachers are evil” is a common high school trope, here rendered literal by its funky millennial take on Invasion of the Body-Snatchers. As the school is taken over, a bunch of kids from – yep – different social sub-groups band together, put enmities aside, to basically kill their teachers. Fun horror comedy that, if you were a teen in 1998, felt smartly relevant.

The Breakfast Club (1985): John Hughes films are often considered teen-movie landmarks, even if they’ve often not aged well. Breakfast is probably the best at dealing specifically with high school, as its disparate heroes (again, each representing a different archetype) reveal depths beneath their surface personae. Angsty and on-the-nose but well-acted and with plenty of charm.

Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017): Spider-Man is the best teen hero (sorry, Robin) because he’s navigating a traditional teenage high school life as well as being a superhero. No film has handled that better than Homecoming, where he deals with his secret identity, a date with his dream girl, and how being a superhero impacts his education.

Back to the Future (1985): I did consider whether this qualifies as a proper high school movie, but I think the school setting is actually pivotal; it juxtaposes the 1980s high school with its 1950s version, and is able to show how much has changed but the teenagers stay basically the same. And, of course, the climactic dance is the cornerstone of the plot. Finally, BTTF is one of the best-written films of all time and a masterpiece, only this low on the list because it’s not quite as high school-y as other films.

Carrie (1976): high school as horror film, obviously, but whilst there’s plenty of terror to be mined from Carrie’s powers and her mum’s fire-and-brimstone fundamentalism, it’s the petty cruelty and viciousness of school that feels darkest and yet most real. Carrie is horrendously bullied for stepping outside of her lane, and that is very high school.

Grease (1978): certainly not the best or most realistic examination of fifties high school life, but iconic enough to deserve its place. The lines between the various sub-groups are broadly drawn, as are the teachers (mostly fools), and the central struggle of the plot – tough guy, nice girl – is timeworn. But, of course, it’s carried off in oodles of style and some classic songs.

Incidentally, there were a few films that I excluded because whilst I think they’re excellent films about teenagers – Rebel Without a Cause, say – they’re not really about high school life. And, of course, I was focussing on American high schools, so no Harry Potter. Just in case you were wondering. And sadly I couldn’t find out how to stick Teen Titans Go! To the Movies in there somewhere.

#top ten #school #lockdown #high school #high school movies #teen movies #movies #kids #teenagers

2 notes · View notes

buffyversefanfiction · 4 years

Text

The Haunting of Buffy Summers

PART ONE HERE

Warning: I do not own the rights to the television show Buffy the Vampire Slayer, its spin-off series Angel, its dark horse comics continuation series, or any of the characters created by Joss Whedon and others in the Buffyverse. 15 years +, Mild to Strong Violence, Sexual References. F/F, F/M, M/M, Other +

PART TWO

Buffy Summers could not believe her eyes, sure she had a hunch her recent haunting may have had something to do with her recently deceased son but for him to actually be standing in front of her in the astral plane as she stood next to a sleeping version of her was super strange even for a vampire slayer. “I knew it was you!” Buffy said proudly, only to be met by Tristan rolling his eyes in frustration “Yeah good on you mum can we get to the whole shadow demon business now?” Tristan replied, attempting to make his mother see the urgency of their situation but all she could hear was him calling her mum once more. “You just called me mum…twice!” Buffy responded with a giddy smile, beyond happy to see her son once again. “You’re here and you’re calling me mum.” “Damn it!” Tristan snapped, as he looked over at the bed to see that Buffy’s sleeping body had suddenly disappeared as if it was never there. “It’s taken you!” “Wait, what?” Buffy asked as she turned to the side to see her sleeping self was no longer on her bed. “Okay…I’m guessing that is not a good sign.” “Nope,” Tristan sighed. “For this plane the shadow demon is basically a god it’s like the astral plane is his kingdom and he’s just taken your body which means if we do not find it really soon your going to be as stuck here as me!” “Okay I get it big bad spells big trouble…can we just get back to you calling me mum for a second and then I’ll turn on slayer mode?” Buffy responded, not ignoring the danger she faced but just so happy to see her son to fully care.

Tristan Summers had been in the astral plane for what felt like forever to him forced to see the world go on without him and unable to interact with others, well at least that is how it began for him until one day he found himself reunited with a vampire he’d never thought he’d see again, his ex-love Dante. Tristan could not believe it when he was reunited with the love of his life in this twisted afterlife called the astral plane and before long he began to realize they were not alone, there were many lost souls within the astral plane mostly used as food for the shadow demon but a few who managed to stay alive in this limbo like world. As time passed he learned that the astral plane was neither heaven or hell but some kind of in between with no possibility of going to either, forced to live in the shadow demon’s domain, one that had been his domain for eons, a home which would soon be no more now that the shadow demon was free to roam the living realm. The astral plane was a miserable existence for most spirits but not for Tristan as he watched life go on without him he did not become bitter like the others, instead he learned how beautiful life was now that he was no longer living it and how much people he never fully opened up to loved him despite his many twisted actions. Tristan did need Buffy over here to help him but not hoping to escape this realm he had come to oddly love but to help him, help her as the shadow demon grew stronger and stronger preparing for his war against the slayers. “So, are you two like back together now or what? Because I am not sure how I feel about my son dating a vampire.” Buffy wondered as she, Dante and Tristan walked the empty streets of San Francisco. “He is not a vampire anymore nor am I, not sure what we are here.” Tristan explained as the three of them continued walking. “Also, you dated two vampires.” “Yeah but they both have souls and…” Buffy began to reply to her son before turning her attention to Dante. “Are you still evil if you are not a vampire?” “I still remember vampire me; I sometimes still feel like vampire me but no I am not vampire me…anymore! I think I’m human or at least a human spirit.” Dante answered his boyfriend’s mother. “Although I’m nowhere near as powerful a ghost as your son!” “Is this about the haunting again? It’s Halloween any ghost could have pulled something like that.” Tristan told Dante, playing down his boyfriend’s claims. “I’m not just talking about that I am talking about how you’re the only spirit the shadow demon leaves alone in this realm not to mention how much safer I’ve been since you got here.” Dante argued. “And yet it still remains here despite no longer being trapped.” “That is because It needs to power up before taking on well…you!” Tristan revealed to Buffy as the three of them continued to walk. “The demon cannot be touched like the first, but it can touch it is like it has control over when it is just a shadow and when it is something more.” “If I cannot touch the thing yet it can strike me why the hell has it not just took me out? Why does it need to get stronger?” Buffy wondered. “Clearly it needs to level up for some reason.” Dante answered the blonde-haired slayer. “Which is why I needed you here to help me stop it before it gets whatever it wants,” Tristan told his mother, “Of course I had hoped Willow would come with you and do some kind of spell like the one the shadow men did on it originally to trap it once before.” “But now we have to waste what little time remains of your visit to the astral plane to find your body because as always the shadow demon is one step ahead.” Dante continued to reveal to Buffy. “So, I guess this means we find my body and then I await the next apocalypse.” Buffy stated, saddened to know her time with her son was not only limited but was going to be spent ensuring that she would once again leave him. “Hold on a minute,” Tristan said before stopping walking, the other two stopping too, eager to hear his next words. “Do not ask me how but I think I know where to go…” Tristan had no idea why he suddenly knew where to go or how he suddenly knew where to go but he knew for certainty he was not wrong which somehow managed to alarm him more than if he still remained unknowing.

“I do not get it why would I be here?” Buffy asked in shock as she and Tristan stood in front of Tristan’s grave within the astral plane version of a San Francisco cemetery, the two of them looking at an unconscious version of Buffy lying on top of the closed grave. “It is clearly playing games with us, reckons a reminder of what awaits you when you wake up will stop you wanting to wake up it’s rather impressive to be honest it is exactly what I would do if I was fucking with someone.” Tristan answered his mother. “I guess that is how I knew somehow…clearly a part of me rubbed on off it just as much as it changed me!” “I do not want to leave you; I should stay and help you stop whatever it is that the shadow demon is planning.” Buffy told him. “I cannot just leave you here alone to fight the same demon that killed you!” “Firstly I was killed by a goddess not a demon which is a good way to go like being taken out by the best, secondly I am not alone or did you forget the fact I am here with Tristan.” Tristan argued with her, determined to make his mother return to the land of the living. “And you really should not feel bad because I freaking love it here, I get to see the world through a veil, I get to be with the man I love and mostly I get to let go of all the darkness that plagued me my entire life…it is weird to say it but this is kind of my heaven.” “I wish I did better by you, I wish I could have been a better mother.” Buffy admitted to her son, as tears began forming in her eyes. “I should have raised you, protected you from it all and maybe then you would not be happy with being dead.” “I do not blame you for anything, I did for a long time, I despised you and Angel so much despite the many times you guys keep trying to reach me it somehow just managed to make me hate use even more but that part of me is well and truly dead.” Tristan said, comforting his mother with his words. “I can never make up for what I’ve done, nor do I deserve to be at peace or my version of it but I am and I am going to be okay here! You do not need to worry about me anymore.” “I am always going to worry about you.” Buffy cried. “You are my son!” “You know your needed there.” Tristan replied, as he gave his mother a hug. “You are a true hero through and through and I would never forgive myself if I was the reason you stopped being who you are by staying here.” “I should not have to keep choosing the slayer side of me over everything.” Buffy complained as she hugged her son tighter. “But you are right my destiny is far from over…neither is yours!” “I know I have just moved to a different realm instead of a different country.” Tristan joked as the mother and son broke off their hug, preparing to say goodbye to each other. “And hey if you start missing me too much, I’ll rank up the volume on your tv from time to time, who knows I may even try some other stereotypical hauntings.” “You enjoy being a ghost far too much!” Buffy laughed with her son. “Just make sure you give that demon hell…for me.” Tristan told his mother who quickly nodded in agreement with her son. Buffy closed her eyes briefly before reopening them to find herself waking up in her bed back in her apartment to the sound of her door being knocked on before she sat up as Willow opened the door and walked into Buffy’s bedroom. “Well did you get some closure, or did it make everything even worse?” Willow asked, fully fearing the answer. “Actually, it made everything better, minus the fact the shadow demon is planning something pretty big, but we will deal with that when we have to.” Buffy replied as she climbed off her bed and stood up to face Willow. “For now I am just happy my son is happy even if that means he is in some weird after life it is still better than him being miserable and trying to kill us all…I think.” “Well yay to that…I think.” Willow responded. “Just no joining him anytime soon because I need you for the long-haul Buffy and this world will always need you!” “Do not worry Willow I am not going anywhere.” Buffy reassured her best friend. “Well except to go and see my niece hopefully dressed as a vampire and not a pumpkin.” “Ironically, they settled on ghost because no ghost costume has ever backfired!” Willow said with sarcasm, remembering her own ordeal as a ghost. “Are you sure you do not want to stay in as planned?” “No, I think it’s time we celebrate for a change at least until the next tragedy anyway.” Buffy joked with Willow, ready to celebrate Halloween with her nearest and dearest.

Tristan Summers was beyond happy on the astral plane and if it was not for a meddling shadow demon he would consider it his heaven, however he was about to learn that the happy ending he deserved was actually no ending at all but a new beginning. “What are we doing here?” Tristan asked Dante before the two walked into an abandoned warehouse within San Francisco City on the astral plane, as Tristan was left shell shocked to see an unconscious version of his body laid on a wooden table. “Dante, what is going on?” “I was confused too when this woman that claimed to be associated with the powers that be took me here to show me your body,” Dante revealed to his lover. “Then she told me why it was there, what she had done and why she had done it.” “I do not understand…I was staked…my body turned to dust.” Tristan replied, still stunned at the sight of his own body laying on the table. “This should not be possible.” “She said only you could defeat the shadow demon, I do not know if she said that because she seemed to have the hots for Angel or because it really is true but if I have to put a bet on I’d always bet on you!” Dante admitted to him, before revealing some more truths. “You have been here for a while, the shadow demon never took it so I do not think he can…I wanted to tell you straight away but I knew the moment I did I’d lose you!” “You do not have to lose me,” Tristan reassured him. “Just because some higher being wants to give me another shot at life does not mean I want it…I am happy with you! And I am sure Buffy can handle whatever comes her way she always does.” “You are only happy here because you have given up on life, life is hard I get that, but it is so much better than this…” Dante argued with the love of his life. “You are far from done but I am where I belong!” “I do not want to lose you again Dante, I love you, I love you more than I have ever loved anyone!” Tristan declared, his words only making Dante feel more guilty. “I cannot be selfish with my love for you not again…Drusilla told me of you long before we ever met, I believed we belonged together and a part of me still does but I was a monster then.” Dante revealed reluctantly. “Tristan…Drusilla never killed your parents I did!” “No,” Tristan cried, completely in denial. “You are just saying that so I will leave you here!” “I am sorry I really am, all I knew back then was that I needed to have you so I did…I killed your parents to bring you to me and then when Mandi seemed like she would eventually take you from me it was me who got Drusilla to get her hooked on the dark magics.” Dante continued to reveal. “I was so obsessed with the idea of us I’d have stopped at nothing for the two of us but that was never love…not then! But I do love you now, now that I’m not a soulless vampire I really do love you and it is because of that love I have to be honest with you and I need to let you go.” “Oh god, you are not lying!” Tristan realized as tears began falling from his eyes, down his cheeks, as he struggled to come to terms with his lover’s betrayal. “I cannot believe I was such a fool.” “I can never make it up to you for what I have done but I cannot keep you here just to make me happy.” Dante told him as tears formed in his own eyes, as he struggled to look at the man, he loved who now only looked back at him with disgust and heartbreak in his eyes. “Just close your eyes and go back home…”

1 note · View note

heyyyharry · 6 years

Text

My Girl Series: Chapter 2 - Homeward Bound

…in which childhood friends meet again, this time, at a funeral.

Series description: Y/N falls in love with the older boy next door who doesn’t feel the same, years later they meet again at a funeral.

AU: actor!harry, older!harry, younger!y/n; (4-year age gap)

Chapter 1 - Treehouse: Y/N falls in love with the older boy next door who doesn’t feel the same.

wattpad link

Four years had gone by, and the small town called Holmes Chapel had partly faded from Harry's memories. He had his own life now, which was more than the life of any ordinary 22-year-old, and of course, he must make room in his mind for new, bigger, and better things.

Many years ago, had anybody told him he was gonna get a massive movie contract, and turn famous before graduating from university, he would've laughed and called them crazy. Now his face was everywhere on billboards, on televisions, on the internet. People followed him around and took photos of him. He had all the money to spend, got invited to exclusive parties, and won big awards with his name on them. So there was no reason for him to come back to his little house in Holmes Chapel.

His family still lived there, but he flew his mum out to stay in London for most of the time, and his sister now had her own life with a boyfriend. The Styles hadn't sold that house because it still had emotional value to them, but they were rarely there anymore. Harry couldn't even remember most details of his childhood bedroom, let alone the treehouse in his backyard, or the girl who came there every single day, waiting for him to come back.

He did come back. But it was for a different reason, one he had never expected.

A funeral.

"Look at all of these paparazzi on the street."

Celine heaved a sigh as she peeked through the window curtains to take a look. The heavy silence in that living room was the opposite of the loud and intrusive crowd waiting in front of the house next door.

Eighteen-year-old Y/N was sitting on the bottom stair with her head in her hands, her eyes were red and swollen, while another girl was comforting her. The girl was Amala, Celine’s girlfriend. They had been dating since junior year, now both graduated from high school and were still together.

Even though Y/N wasn't the only special girl in Celine’s life anymore, she had never felt deserted, knowing her tiny best friend would always be by her side and she would also do the same. Now with Amala in the picture, the three of them were inseparable. Those two had been Y/N's rock since her mother's death, and she could never thank them enough for just being there for her.

"Why did he have to come back?" Y/N exhaled, fingers gripping her own hair. "I don't want all these people at my mother's funeral."

"Calm down, I'm sure they'll get tired and leave in no time," said Celine, who quickly exchanged looks with Amala, because they both knew those paps wouldn't leave until Harry did.

"Why couldn't he just stay gone?" Y/N mumbled, mostly to herself, and she really meant it. She wished he had never returned. She'd gone as far as avoiding all the news about him and she'd been doing so well in the last four years. But her mother's death seemed to be just the calm before the storm. With his unwanted return, he would bring a whole crowd of people with cameras to her mother's funeral.

"When is Blake gonna be here?" Asked Amala, but Celine shook her head fast to tell her girlfriend not to mention that name. It was too late since Y/N had already heard her.

"He's not coming," she replied, eyes glued to the floor. "We broke up."

The hurt was still etched in her voice when she talked about him. Even though she would never admit it, her two friends both knew she had really loved that boy.

Blake Roman was Y/N's first official boyfriend. He had treated her so well, and even though she'd lost her first kiss in the treehouse four years ago, Y/N had given all her other firsts to Blake. But two foolish teenagers fell in love at seventeen, what did they know? It wasn't until graduation and facing big decisions of futures and dreams that they realized it wasn't going to work. They weren't going to work.

Blake went to America to become a lawyer, but Y/N wasn't bitter or depressed because she also had plans of her own. Her mother had told her that everything happened for a reason, and that was what she chose to believe. Had they stayed together, a long distance relationship would tear them apart eventually. Take her parents as an example, they had lived under the same roof for that many years but they didn't make it still.

"Y/N..."

The girls turned their head to the kitchen doorway and found Y/N's father with hands in his pockets, dressed in a black suit and a tie. The last time he was that well-dressed was at his wedding, sadly now it was his wife's funeral. He told them it was time to go then grabbed his keys and walked out of the house without saying another word.

Once he had left, Celine asked Y/N how her father had been dealing with her mother's death, and to be honest Y/N didn't even know. She had never known the man well enough to give her best friend an answer, but there was one thing she knew for sure, it didn't hurt him as much as it did her.

Y/N's mother funeral was held at a funeral home in the town central, and only those who were close to the family had been invited, so it was a very small gathering.

Though a part of Y/N didn't want Harry to show up and bring in chaos, during the ceremony her eyes still searched around the room for his face. She saw his mother Anne, and his sister Gemma, but she didn't see him. Maybe for some particular reasons, he'd changed his mind and decided not to go; or maybe he couldn't get past those paparazzi to get out of the house. But without his presence on her mother's sad day, Y/N felt awfully incomplete.

After the burial, all the guests headed back to her house for a wake. There was a small dinner, and the people at the table talked about what a lovely woman Y/N's mother had been. They told stories about her, saying she'd always been wise, and kind, and tolerant, which Y/N knew were all true. But as she stole a glance at her father, who was sitting at the end of the table, focusing on his own food rather than the stories about his late wife, she felt like none of it mattered to him, and that just broke her heart.

Thankfully, dinner was over soon, but the guests stayed for a few drinks while carrying boring conversations to keep the atmosphere indoors alive. It was getting late, a few had left and Y/N couldn't wait for the rest to follow so she could call it a day. The last thing she would expect at that moment was for a new guest to show up, but as soon as her eyes turned to the left corner of the living room by accident, she spotted a familiar face. It wasn't her imagination doing tricks on her like she'd thought at first, it was really him.

Y/N swore the moment their eyes met in the crowded living room, everything else besides them immediately faded away. The background noise was muted and the living room sank to utter silence, so silent that she could hear her blood flowing through her veins and her heart beating all out of rhythm. It almost felt like a scene in those cheesy romantic films she had watched too often.

He was there in person, dressed in a simple black suit but he looked so expensive compared to all the others. His hair was much longer than the last time she saw him, all tied up in a small bun at the back of his head. That new hairstyle almost turned him into a whole different person.

There was a strange kind of familiarity as well as ignorant in that look he was giving her. Then he pressed his lips into a smile, for a second neglecting what the white-bearded man was telling him. She didn't know what to do but smile back and instantly look away as she carried on the conversation with her relatives, acting as if she wasn't bothered at all by his presence. Deep down inside, however, the girl wasn't as calm as she was pretending to be.

Y/N mumbled quick apologies as she grabbed Celine by her elbow and pulled her away from the unfinished conversation, to the back of the staircase.

"How did he get in here without anyone knowing?"

At first, Celine didn't know whom her friend was referring to. But a face like Harry Styles' couldn't just blend into any crowd, especially one as depressing as that. It literally took her less than a second to spot him in the far corner of the living room.

"He must've used the back door," she said, seemingly as shocked as Y/N had been. "Maybe he didn't want to cause a scene, maybe that was why he skipped the funeral."

"Maybe..." The taller girl let go of her friend's arm, keeping her stare fixed on Harry.

"Will you talk to him?" Celine asked.

"I don't know."

"What if he talks to you?"

"I...don't know," Y/N repeated the same three words, eyebrows furrowed at the boy next door.

His name was still Harry Styles, his smile still shone like the sun, and he was still the most beautiful person she had ever seen, but she didn't know him, not anymore. It had been four years since they last saw each other. She was obviously not the same fourteen-year-old girl who had begged him to be her first kiss; and he, now a famous actor, must be very different too. So instead of walking up to him and starting a conversation, Y/N chose to stay away, hoping that he would also do the same.

As the last few guests were heading out and so were her two best friends, Y/N came to her backyard to be alone. It was a long day after all, she needed to recharge herself by spending some time with her own thoughts, and the only place that she could come to think, was the treehouse in her neighbor's backyard.

Unlike people, it never left her.

With her feet dangling in the air as she sat on the edge of her childhood fort, the girl let her thoughts wander with the summer breezes to faraway places, but mostly to the past, to the things she couldn't change, to when her mother was alive and Harry was her friend. Then she couldn't help but wonder if he was still talking to her dad in the kitchen. Was he thinking about her too? Probably not. But a tiny part of her secretly hoped that he was.

"Bambi."

The endearing sound of that nickname got Y/N's head turned in a split second. She hadn't heard it in so long. She hadn't heard that voice in so long, and her heart felt the same warm fuzzy feeling she used to feel whenever he called her that. She rushed to the other side of the treehouse, to the entrance, one hand on her heaving chest as she looked down.

There he was, standing in the middle of his backyard, eyes on her, and the scene was all so familiar yet so foreign. He was different, she was different, and their surroundings were also different.

His garden was no longer the magical place she had always fantasized about when she was a kid. Now that nobody was taking care of it, all the flowers had wilted, the grass had grown much higher, and the sprinklers didn't come on at 6AM anymore. Somehow she felt like it represented what was left between them, absolutely nothing.

He waved his hand to get her attention as if she couldn't see him, and so she did the same, not a single word was exchanged. There was a long pause when they just stood still and stared at each other like two strangers meeting for the first time, probably to take in the new appearance of the other person. She probably had changed more than he had, so she would kill to find out what he thought of her now that she wasn't a kid anymore.

It was Harry who said the first words.

"May I join you up there?"

She hesitated. Fourteen-year-old Y/N would never.

"Uhm...S-Sure," she said at last and watched him make his way towards the tree. Harry struggled to step on the rope ladder and somehow she found it quite funny. When he heard her laugh, he shot her a playful glare, and told her that she was distracting him from his climb.

"Oh God, I'm really getting old."

The man sighed in relief once he had made it to the treehouse in one piece as he took a bow, making the girl shake her head and giggle at him. Once again, they sat side by side with their bare feet dangling in the air like the night he had left. This time, however, she was staring blankly ahead and he was looking at her. He was second-guessing what she was going to say, but she remained in silence until he was once again the first to speak.

"Bambi," he said. "Are you okay?"

She turned to look at him, flashing a single smile. She didn't need to say anything else after that, since he already knew she wasn't okay. She took a deep breath, letting it all out as her eyes turned to focus on her fingers toying with the hem of her black dress.

"Bambi's mother died in the movie too, right?"

That one question shattered Harry's heart at once. He was so used to seeing her as a happy and positive little girl. Now she wasn't little anymore, and she wasn't happy either. He used to know everything about her because she had never kept a secret from him, now he had to try and read her mind because he knew there was more than she was willing to confess.

He waited for her to tell him about her plans after graduation, which university she'd got accepted in, fill in the blanks about all the things he'd missed in the last four years. However, she gave him nothing. Maybe she didn't even trust him anymore. He couldn't blame her though. He'd been gone for too long.

"The car accident happened right before my graduation. She didn't get to hear my speech." Y/N lifted one hand to wipe the tears running down her cheek though she didn't want to cry, at least not in front of him. But the girl had been holding back for too long now and that moment was her breaking point. "Had she been there...she would...she would've been so proud of me..."

Harry quickly wrapped his arms around the girl's shoulders and pulled her close to his chest. She let him hold her, drowning her in the unfamiliar scent of his expensive cologne, which made her feel as though she was in the arms of a complete stranger. But right now she needed that hug more than anything else.

"Your mother didn't have to hear your speech to be proud of you, Bambi. She'd always been proud of you," he mumbled into her hair, one hand stroking her back.

It took Y/N a moment to quiet down and pull away a bit to look at him. They were face to face again in four years, this time, in the kissing distance. She had never sat this close to him before, and he had never looked at her that way before.

The childhood best friends held each other's gaze as if trying to recollect each memory of their past, to form the complete picture of the many years they had left behind. There was a quiet moment, followed by awkward hesitation, as they both leaned in, eyes closed. Neither was thinking when their lips attached.

This time, they were really kissing.

She felt his fingers tangled in her hair as he deepened the kiss and she kissed him back with as much passion, like she had never been kissed before, like it was their first. For a second there, she wished it had been.

The sound of his ringtone broke them apart, and it was only then that they realized what they'd done. She expected silence from him, or at least something else, but instead what she received was, "I have to take this. I'm very sorry."

Just like that, he stood up and hurried his way back to the rope ladder. The first time they kissed, she was the one to run away. This time, it was him.

He set his feet back on the ground and picked up that call as he hurried to his house, without a second look back. Y/N was still sitting there, not sure what had happened. It didn't even feel real, though she knew it was, because she could still taste his lips on hers. She didn't know who had called, and why it was so important that he couldn't stay and give her an explanation for that moment between them.

If that was revenge for that kiss she had stolen from him four years ago, when she was only fourteen, then it just wasn't fair.

The next morning, Y/N came to Harry's house to talk to him, and once again, his mother said he had already gone back to London; but afterward, the kind woman gave Y/N his phone number and told her to give him a call.

Maybe Anne could see how much her son still meant to the girl, and that she needed his comfort now more than ever. Y/N wondered why Harry couldn't see that as well. Was it really because he was a boy? Or was he just denying everything he saw because he didn't want to believe it was real, that her feelings for him were real? There were too many questions needed answers, and Y/N couldn't be patient anymore.

That night she decided to call him and talk about that kiss. She wasn't gonna sit there and second guess his next moves like Rapunzel in the high tower, waiting by the window for her prince to come back on his white horse. Because this wasn't a fairytale with a happy ending, she was never a princess, even though in her eyes he'd always been the prince.

The girl started biting on her nails while her heart was beating in time with the beeps on the phone. It took a couple ones until someone finally picked up, and she didn't even hesitate.

"Hey, Harry, it's Y/N," she said. "Your mum gave me your number and—"

"Sorry? Who is this again?"

That wasn't Harry's voice. That was a woman. Y/N double-checked the number on the piece of paper Anne had given her, and as she was sure she had put in the correct one, her heart fell to the bottom of her chest.

As Y/N remained silent, the woman on the phone went on, "Harry's in the shower right now, is this urgent?"

"No..." Y/N faked a soft laugh. "I...uhm...Could you please tell Harry that...Y/N called and...please tell him to call me back when he's free?"

"Sure," said that woman, and it was a lie. Harry never got to find out about Y/N's call, but Y/N didn't know about that, so she waited. She waited for that entire week, and by the end of that week she'd made up her mind, this time, to give up on him for good.

(two years later)

"Hey little girl, get up."

"No...One more!"

"Enough, time to go home," said the big fat bartender as he refused to sell the girl another pint. Normally he wouldn't care if his guests got so drunk they forgot their own names, but since that girl had come to the bar every night that week, and got wasted almost every single time, he felt like it was his responsibility to stop giving her what she thought she needed.

"I'm not a little girl" Y/N grumbled, lifting a finger as she narrowed her hooded eyes at him. "I'm turning twenty next month! You're a little girl!"

The man shook his head and took the empty glass in front of her away before she drunkenly smashed it like she had before.

"Do you even have a life, kid?" He asked.

"I do!" She shouted with her eyes closed, pointing a finger to the ceiling. "I'm a...uh...a college student...and a writer..."

The big man rolled his eyes when she said 'writer' but he hadn't got time to argue with a drunk 19-year-old that owning an emo online blog (he assumed) didn't make you a writer.

"Look, kid, this is London. There are plenty of other fun places for young people to hang, you shouldn't be spending this much time here, drinking your ass off."

"But I want some more!"

"Trust me you don't."

"I do! Now give me another..." She trailed off, then cracked a weird smile at him.

The man raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to finish that sentence, but she never did. Y/N dropped her head down on the counter and just lied there like a dead body. Of course, the bartender knew she didn't die, she was still breathing. But he couldn't just leave her there because the bar was closing soon. So he asked a waitress to search for her phone in one of her pockets and called one of her emergency numbers.

That same night, Harry received a call from a bar not so far from his home in London, telling him to pick up a girl named Y/N.

When Y/N opened her eyes, she found herself in a room she had never seen before. At first, she thought she was dreaming, that in her dream she'd become rich and finally got a bedroom twice the size of her current flat. But everything seemed too real to be just a dream. She could actually feel the softness of the mattress she was lying on, and the pillow beneath her head was so comfortable that she didn't want to get up. But she must get up, because Y/N soon realized she wasn't dreaming and it was somebody else's bedroom.

Quickly, she kicked off the duvet, and sighed in relief to see that she was still wearing her clothes from the night before. She thought if she'd been kidnapped, then her kidnapper must be a decent man. But why would anyone want to kidnap a lonely and depressed university student, who could barely pay her own rent? If that person didn't want her or her money (which she didn't even have), what did they want?

The answer to her questions showed up at the bedroom door just as she sat up and threw her legs off the bed.

"Harry?"

Y/N blinked fast because she couldn't believe it was him. But it was, unfortunately. He was standing there, staring back at her with the same dimpled smile on his face. It'd been two years so she'd expected him to look different, yet she was still surprised. His hair was shorter and one could hardly imagine he used to have hair so long that he could put it in a man bun. Overall he still looked good, the opposite of what a mess she was at that moment.

Harry didn't wait for her to ask, he went ahead and explained the situation last night, saying he had to drive to a bar at 1:30 AM just to pick her up, and bring her to his house because she was too drunk to remember her own address. She was glad he didn't ask her why he was in her emergency contact list, because she didn't even know what had been on her mind when she put his number there. Maybe in case something bad ever happened to her, she wanted him to know as well. She just had never expected it to be like this.

"How bad was I?" She asked.

"You threw up all over my shoes." He slightly chuckled.

"I'll get you another pair, I promise!"

"It's alright. You don't have to."

"They're very expensive, aren't they?" She scoffed, and he nodded his head to confirm it was true.

"They're Gucci," Harry emphasized the brand name with a funny grimace to make her laugh, but all that he received from the girl sitting on his bed was a nervous frown. "So..." He trailed off, taking a deep breath. "Mind telling me why you drank to the point you passed out last night?"

"I don't have to tell you anything."

"You don't." He agreed. "But I'd appreciate it if you do."

The girl turned her eyes away from him and let the silence take over once again. Harry prayed that she would say something, anything. She could just start yelling at him if she wanted to, even though he knew she never would.

"Thank you for everything. But I think I should go now," Y/N finally said and rose up from the bed. But the older man didn't move out of the way for her to walk out.

"You expect me to let you go after what happened last night?" He asked, giving her a stern look as he shoved both hands into his pants pockets.

"What?" She scoffed. "So you're gonna keep me here?"

"If I must. Yes."

"Don't try to be my dad, one is enough already," said the girl as she tried to get past him, but he quickly placed both arms on the doorframe to block her path, forcing her to finally look him in the eyes.

"Bambi, talk to me," he pleaded, eyebrows knitted together, looking more serious this time.

Y/N took a step away from the older man with her head held high and her arms crossed as she told him they didn't have anything to talk about. "If you really wanted to talk, you would've done it two years ago."

Just like that, she pushed him aside to head out, but Harry was quick to grab her elbow and stop her before she left.

"I owe you an apology, I—"

To his surprise, Y/N cut him off by yanking her arm away from his grip. Then she looked up, eyes to eyes with him this time. He knew that look so well, she used to give the same one to the bigger kids who had always teased her on playground, but that was actually the first time she had ever looked at him that way.

"We don't owe each other anything. Goodbye, Harry," she said, and he knew better than to try and convince her to stay. Once Y/N had made up her mind, she wouldn't change it for anyone, not even her mother, and certainly not him.

So he had no choice but to let the girl go even though it was painful to watch her walk away like that, it hurt him even more now that he began to think about her cold look from earlier. Maybe that was the moment Harry realized the part of him in her was barely there anymore.

Not until Y/N had walked a pretty far distance from Harry's house did she finally stop and burst into tears. She had never got so emotional that she ended up crying in public before, but now the girl was too upset to care who might be judging her. It wasn't only Harry, it was the entire series of unfortunate events, a circle, all leading back to him.

When she saw his face again, it hurt her so much because she wanted to tell him about everything, why she had been at that bar, why she had been drinking. Y/N wanted to hear him say everything was gonna be okay, and that he would be there for her through it all. But the last time he tried to comfort her, he left a bigger hole in her heart, so maybe this time she should deal with the problem on her own.

The girl told herself to stop crying, and all of a sudden, she heard the camera sound as someone had taken a photo. Y/N looked up and saw a tall man holding his camera, she assumed he was a paparazzi and had seen her walking out of Harry Styles' house.

"Did I give you permission to take pictures of me?"

Her loud voice caught the stranger by surprise, causing him to instantly lower the camera as he apologized, and swore he was just a street photographer. He probably thought that she saw him as a creep, but he didn't seem like one at all. It wasn't just the fact that he had a pretty face, but also because the look in his eyes was genuine.

Y/N's first impression of the man was that he was tall, very tall. She guessed he was the same height as Harry, but his thin build created an illusion that he was at least two inches taller. She didn't consider herself as petite, still, she felt so small standing next to this stranger.

The man, probably just a few years older than her, had smooth, dry skin with little freckles sprinkled here and there across his nose and his cheekbones. His blonde hair looked even more golden in the sunlight. It was short and unruly, yet perfectly framed his face.

Now that Y/N had made eye-contact with him, she couldn't look away anymore. Those were the bluest eyes she had ever seen. The shade resembled a cloudless sky in the spring, full on Prince Charming kind of blue. The more she looked the more prominent they became.

Maybe it was just an illusion, but Y/N swore she could see a bit of green in them.

"This is for a small project I'm working on. I'm taking photos of random scenes and people I come across," the stranger explained as she approached him, and didn't hesitate to show her the proofs on his camera. "Here's an old man feeding the birds, a cute puppy, uhm....a lady who sells flowers on the sidewalk, a kid with his new soccer ball...and a pretty girl crying on the street."

Y/N glared at the young man for what he'd just said, but his cheeky smirk remained as he shut down the camera and introduced himself. He told her his name was Isaac, and he was a professional photographer. Since he'd already shown her those photos he'd taken that day, she could confirm that he wasn't just boasting.

"I'm sorry if I offended you, Miss..."

"My name's Y/N."

"Alright, Y/N, I'm really sorry." Isaac paused to bite his lip, waiting for the girl to speak, and when he was sure she wasn't gonna say anything else, he went on, "I could just delete the photo."

"It's okay, keep it," she said, sighing. "If you wanted to take pictures of me, all you had to do was ask nicely."

"Really?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Okay then, Y/N." His emphasis on her name made the girl smile and roll her eyes. "May I take a few more photos of you?"

Y/N actually thought twice about that offer. She had just met the guy, for all she knew he could still be a psychopath, a very charming one if that was the case. But since she had nothing else to do on that Sunday morning, and needed a distraction from reality, getting to know a good-looking stranger didn't sound like a bad idea. If he turned out to be a real psychopath, then maybe she was just very unlucky.

"Okay." She nodded, turning her face to the right. "But only on my good side, got it?"

"Got it," Isaac said with a grin, and quickly snapped a shot of the smiling girl.

#harry styles #older!harry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #younger!y/n #actor!harry #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles imagines

988 notes · View notes

slothgiirl · 5 years

Text

shadowplay ch 4

You finally go grocery shopping after work on friday, grabbing plenty of bread and fruit and mostly yogurt that doubles as both breakfast and a snack and some beans while your at it. Nothing like homemade beans.

This part of adulthood was awful, not just working but actually having to come home and do things. You better understood why your mum and dad got annoyed when they got home and you still hadn't done the dishes.

You think of texting Alex this but think better of it. You weren't quite friends. So you send a text to Sam instead.

Her succinct reply is grow up babes.

You'd last seen her an hour ago during work and she'd gone to get drinks with Matt and Vy but you'd been an adult and gone to get groceries.

And then you get home and eat toast with jam and one of the apples you got. Hardly an actual meal.

Your phone buzzes. Alex <3 flashing on the lock screen. want 2 gt drinks. Which is so unAlex you immediately call him.

"Who are you and what have you done to Alex," you joke and hope he picks up on it. Maybe he was right about calling being better after all. Not that you'd ever tell him that. He'd be unbearably smug.

"Love," he answers with a laugh, "just Zack here thinking he was being funneh. But the offer still stands if your up for it? I know works been busy." It was nice of him to give me an easy out. But staying in on a Friday night was terribly depressing.

"Where?"

You take the tube over to a more fashionable area of east london, over in Hackney. The bars themed like a seventies magazine interpretation of a living room, playing early Bowie.

Alex greets you with a kiss on your mouth, soft and lingering just enough that you feel off kilter, unable to hide the stiffness in your shoulders. Here where everyone can see.

And then your taking a seat and shaking Zack's hand. Alex ordering you a cranberry vodka. The same drink you'd been buying since you realized beer was gross. "Working on some stuff here in London," he shrugs.

"Still quite offended you didn't ask to stay at mine," Alex pouts, clearly on his way to drunk, hand resting on your tigh. You can't not be hyperaware of his touch, electric against your skin.

"I did think of you," Zack protests, "but Allison, my old roommate asked first and I said yes. Besides man you like dropped off the face of the earth. Holed up."

"I like to decompress," he states, sipping at his beer. "And this one here has me flying back."

You snort, "well you offer," you lie because you refuse to be a fake bitch. If this is all fake, then your going to be the fake version of yourself you teenage self would've been proud of. "And I'm not going to say no Al!"

Alex smiles boyishly charming, and really does anyone buy his cool guy act when he's so obviously a sweetheart. You can imagine him going out of his way to help an old lady carry her bags upstairs.

"Ahh," Zack laughs, "and he said he didn't want to bhover you," he finishes in a terrible cockney accent. Americans. "This is exactly why Miles and Matt didn't invite you on our little getaway we have coming up."

Suddenly alert, Alex goes, "what! What trip!"

Zack giggles. "Just a little boys trip. Breanna was going to go but she said it'd be too much testosterone for her to stomach alone."

"And I wasn't invited?"

"Guess you were too busy," Zack says smugly. Before turning to you, "Forgive me for texting you under false pretenses but it's Alex. Gotta get things out of him somehow."

"Really," you wonder out loud, "I've never had any trouble with that. He just rambles a bunch."

"Oi," Alex protests, looking faux betrayed at you, like a puppy when you refuse to give them more treats, "you going with them?"]

Zack nods. "I'm guessing you know about the bands?"

"I do," you reply, finishing your drink and feeling the drunk giddyness bubble up in you, Alex's hand on your tigh warm as he rubs circles into your skin. It had been brilliant of you to change into a mini skirt that had survived many a trips to the club. "Which one are you in?"

"The last shadow puppets though it's really Alex's and Miles' baby." You make a note to listen to some songs.

You turn to Alex, catching him staring at you with the dreaminess of the blissfully drunk, face flushed, "Have a favorite child?"

He shakes his head, "that's comparing apples to oranges darling."

"Least you could do," you tease him, exciting laughter out of him.

"You guys should both come though," Zack offers, "bet Breanna would come then and that would make Helders happy as fuck!"

"When's the trip," you ask, curious though by then this will be over. Maybe you and Alex can be amicable fake exes. You'd never managed to stay friends with any past lovers. But that was because a) you lived in different places and drifted apart and b) they were assholes though that was only really your last boyfriend.

"In two months. We've rented a cabin in Northern California. There's a lake. It looks sick."

You look at Alex and hope he's not too drunk to say something plausible, smiling in amusement as he taps in tune with the beat to the music playing. You would recognize Donna Summer anywhere.

"I don't know mate," Alex shrugs, looking over at you, his eyes meeting yours, trying to gauge your response, "probably can't get work off with this late of a notice?"

That wasn't true at all. And you had so many saved up vacation days apart from the mandatory ones. But it was nice that Alex had already found an excuse. "I'll have to see," you add, making sure to look adoringly at Alex, not a hard thing to do, it was much harder to keep a straight face, to keep from laughing when you felt so light and bubbly after a few drinks, his leg bumping into yours as he taps the beat playing, like you were heartbroken over the idea of not being able to go with him and his friends.

"Just let me or the boys know," Zack tells you both. "Breanna would probably love too come if she wasn't the only girl." Then orders a round and you all proceed to get comfortably drunk.

Zack telling you all about his touring misadventures and a memorable skinny dipping adventure where the band had forgotten where they'd hidden their clothes. Alex chiming in about his and Matt's adventure to procure weed "or something with a bit more of a kick," in the early days and spending one hundred dollars on bunk acid.

"Fooking wankers," he mutters.

"In college someone got some prerolled joints and a bunch of us were all psyched to go smoke it after school," you tell the boys, blushing at the memory of your dumb antics, "all nerdy kids who did not know how to roll a joint and we forgot to get a lighter."

"No fooking way love," Alex laughs in delight. "I would've rolled you the best joint."

You wrinkle your nose, "I prefer edibles if I'm being honest. Or shrooms. Did you see how microdosing blew up all of a sudden?"

Zack slaps the table, "and among moms of all people!"

"Mums be getting lit!"

You offer to go order the next round, two more beers and a cranberry vodka. Asking politely if there wasn't a strokes song that would fit into the theme.

The man behind the bar hands you the drinks and waves you off with, "drag queen works."

The song starts as you get back to the table, placing the drinks down.

"The strokes," Alex drunkenly proclaims, "what kind of witchcraft 'ave you done love?" He pulls you close against him before kissing you madly, tasting of beer and tobacco against your mouth, not a hit of pretending about it, as you stiffen in his arms in surprise before melting against his touch not even a second layer.

To your surprise, instead of feeling relief when he pulls away, singing along with Zack who also knows the words, it's a sharp yearning, the sudden prick of a needle in your finger. It's stupid. You're being stupid.

Alex would've never given you a second glance if it hadn't been for Arielle. And why would he when he went around dating girls like Arielle, models who were sweet on top of being insanely beautiful.

And now you just want to go home.

Instead you laugh it off, "I just asked nicely Al. Works wonders."

Zack snorts, "their new stuff is so underrated."

"It is," Alex cries out.

"Oh my god you are drunk!"

"And happy! I'm so happy you came love! I wasn't sure you would."

"Only for you Alex." Which is true in more ways than one. You doubt you would have agreed to all this with just anyone. No. Alex was special. Enough charisma to charm the whole world.

He leans into kiss you again, with the same hunger as before and reluctantly you pull away, still unsure about that thrum of want running through your veins and what to do about it. Now was not the time to figure that out. "Time to go home," you suggest and hope Zack goes his own way. As funny as he's been, you need a cold shower and to remind Al he's not actually dating you.

Alex nods eagerly, sliding cash on the table and waving a hastily goodbye to Zack.

He flags a cab down for you both and gives the driver your address, his arms still wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close to him. It's too much. He's just drunk. And you don't want to do anything stupid with him. Not with the lie. You'd much rather be good friends at the end of all this.

"Al," you protest, slipping out of his hold as he goes in to press another kiss to your lips, "no."

He looks like a kicked puppy, wide eyes and pouty lips, but doesn't make another move, gaze focused on you with an embarrassing amount of earnestness.

"You can't-," you start, "you can't have things both ways. And we agreed. There's lines."

With obvious reluctance he nods, "sorry love," he slurs, slumping in his seat, looking out the window of the cab.

"It's okay," you tell him, because who hasn't been drunk and made bad decisions, settling down next to him again. The heat of his body doing wonders to take the edge off.

It's just Alex.

You both come up into your flat.

"You sure it's alright," Alex slurs, wavering in the doorway looking as unsure as you feel, "I'll be fine at home."

"I'll sleep a lot better knowing your fine," you tell him, "come on rockstar," and drag him in. He's drunk. And you care about him too much to just let him go off on his own.

You both collapse into your bed, fourteen minutes past three in the morning. "I haven't been out so late in ages," you tell him. "My ex, Tom, he always said it was because I'm not fun." It had made you feel like shit but having just gotten your job, you had worked hectic hours and as the newbie you hadn't been in a position to ask for whatever schedule suited you best. And after a long day at work, going out was not something you wanted when you were home.

"You're loads of fun love," Alex whispers back, taking your hand in his, rubbing circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, "I always have a hell of a time when I'm with you. That's what matters. Not snorting a few rails of coke though that can be fun too."

"I've only ever done shrooms and that was in Amsterdam. In the tulip fields."

"Rockstar love. I've got you beat."

You roll your eyes, "what happened to not wanting to sound like a bloody twat?"

Alex laughs, sending heat down your spine. It makes you glad for the obscurity the dark lends, making you a mere outline when you feel like a burning star.

It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep once you lapse into comfortable silence.

Alex is gone by the time you wake up. A glass of water on your bedside table thoughtfully left by him.

#Alex Turner #alex turner fanfic #alex turner imagine #alex turner x reader #Shadowplay

24 notes · View notes