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perpetuelledaydreaming · 4 years

Text

L.o.v.e.l.e.s.s. generation

Request: Amazing!! Can i ask for a billy hargrove imagine where he and the reader are together and at a party. They separate for like an hour so he goes with his friends for a while and shes with hers and she gets roofied. Steve and nancy try to help her and then call billy and hes a mess trying to get her to throw up and hes just blabbering and crying and mad af. So much angst and then fluff and yeah.

@peakascum i’m so sorry for taking so looooong.

words: 7.4 k

Summary: Billy has a bad feeling about a party at Tina’s and you don’t trust your gut feeling because of a kiss, Nancy can kick some ass and both, you and Billy, are the kind of people who cry in the shower.

Warnings: *trigger warning* We have dark shit here, like pls people if any of your friends get too drunk or you think someone has put something in their drink GO TO THE HOSPITAL. Don’t follow the characters behaviour down below.

billy hargrove masterlist

"There’s a party at Tina’s tonight”, you muttered after disconnecting your lips from Billy’s, who had been more than happy on your make-out session in the parking lot of Hawkins High.

You fluttered your eyes to watch your hot, hot, boyfriend who was perfectly placed between your legs while he kissed you softly. You weren’t sure how Billy kept his glowing tan all year long, especially in Hawkins but you loved how it combined with his blue electric eyes that pierced you every time he watched you. You removed some of the blonde locks falling on his forehead and placed another kiss on his full lips.

Sometimes you didn’t know how you managed to snatch him.

He sighed, “I heard, are you sure you want to go?”, he groaned as he tried to chase your lips once more but you stopped him as you jumped from the hood of the blue Camaro.

“When does Billy Hargrove rejects a party?”, you asked while raising your brows. You picked up your bag from the floor and began fixing your skirt and sweater, you had to be ready for the debate team meeting while he rolled his eyes.

You smiled but you turned around as you heard a couple of girls from Billy’s friend group nattering about you from afar as they saw Billy pulling you in once more for another kiss.

See, how could you even start to recount your relationship with Billy Hargrove? it was hard. Not because it was a difficult relationship, but because you two seemed so different from the outside that sometimes people didn’t even believe that you had lasted so long in the first place. Billy and you had been going strong for over eight months now and it felt like you were on cloud nine.

He was mesmerized by you since his first day of school, he wasted no time in asking you for a date -to the disapproval of his new gang and the dismay of most of the girls at the school- you were elated by it but you said that he needed to do a lot more if he wanted you to say yes. It wasn’t that you weren’t oblivious to Billy’s charm but you knew his type and he was definitely not on yours.

Billy didn’t seem more than an aggressive jog and you bore those type of guys, they weren’t stimulating and you had learned to value yourself and your time, more than anything else. So, it took Billy time -with a lot of rejected attempts and multiple pairings on classes- to actually get a yes from you.

And so, you had come to learn that Billy Hargrove was more than he showed and it hit you to the core because you did the same. They were just different acts, both of you were familiar with the fact that people liked to put tags on others, to label them and keep them in a box, they liked making you one dimensional for them to feel comforted in a stupid status quo. And both of you followed swiftly because sometimes is easier to play a role than to be yourself, it’s easier to make people believe you are one thing. Sometimes it was easier to be just a good girl and sometimes it was easier to be just a bully, but you weren’t that and neither was Billy.

Billy Hargrove wore his heart on his sleeve and no one had noticed that, you instead kept it locked in a safe to survive and no one had noticed that.

But Billy noticed your lock and you noticed his sleeve, he understood you and you understood him.

After hours or even whole nights talking to each other, laughing, even crying you finally agreed to go out with him.

“I always want to do whatever you want to do”, he whispered to your lips as he pressed quick pecks. You sighed into his lips; eyes closed in bliss as his lips touched yours. “Pick you at nine?”

You smiled as you heard him and your lips now were chasing his.

…

“See you in an hour or so?”, you asked as you opened the door for Tina’s house, Billy was behind you. Both of you were analyzing the scene in front of you.

There were a lot of people, far more than what you were expecting but it was the last Friday before Thanksgiving break so you kinda got it. Many of the kids that went away for college were coming back to see their families and since Tina’s parties were always a staple of Hawkins High, you knew most of them wouldn’t miss it. So, there it was: an ocean of sweaty and drunk teenagers and young adults having fun and blasting music.

You turned around to see a frown on Billy’s face as he saw the scene while you rolled your eyes. You didn’t really know why he was so opposed to partying when he was always down for any type of rave.

See, although both of you were so similar in many senses, it wasn’t at all the case when you were partying. Billy was the type of guy who liked the attention, he craved it and he found it most of the time in senseless partying. While you, you were the type of girl who liked to be lowkey about your presence at a party, if you had the attention it was from your amazing dancing skills. Otherwise, you liked to spend your parties taking a few shots, dancing, and talking to your friends; nothing more and nothing less. Billy, instead, liked to do his keg stands and playing games, getting a bit more than tipsy.

Most of the time you were together months of your relationship you both had made sacrifices, sometimes Billy wouldn’t do his normal circus act so he could be in a more calm conversation with you, and sometimes you had decided to cheer him when he was doing his keg stands or accomplishing the dares his stupid friends wanted him to do.

And it was fine, except for the fact that you had exploded one Monday a few months ago when you heard the rumors about the past party, especially the rumor about the “Queen of Hawkins” and how everyone was beginning to think that you were nothing more than a pretty thing that Billy wore around his arm, an accessory. You hated it, you hated it so much that you had ended up ranting about it to Billy who had been patient and listened to every single word without saying much.

“I’m fucking captain of the debate team, since when I’m an accessory?”, “I’m running for president of the student council, does it look like I care about being Queen of Hawkins?”, “I’m not clingy or sticking to you all the time, it was just one party!”

And so, you had come up with the party plan. It was really simple: As soon as you got to the party, each one would go and do their thing. Billy would go out and play games while you hang out with Steve and Nancy and Johnathan. If there were any good songs or if you were craving each other presences, you would find each other and would dance for a couple of songs or maybe have a little (long) time out inside any room available where you could moan each other’s name. It had worked on the parties that you had gone to for the last few months and it had been fine, most of the time after you found each other you wouldn’t let go.

Today had to be no different, another party at Tina’s, usual business.

But you knew it wasn’t, Billy turned around to see you with narrowed blue electric eyes, brows bumped together in a scowl and lips pressed together.

“Billy?”

“I’m not really feeling like partying”, he muttered as he sighed and took a hold of your waist and pulled your flesh against his.

Sometimes you were more than sure that Billy’s arms were made perfectly for you, you loved being held by him, and feeling like nothing in the world could hurt you. Being held by his biceps and pressed against him always made your heart skip a bit, you didn’t even think twice as you quickly took a hold of his face and you pressed your lips urgently against his, making you whimper into his lips. It was intoxicating the dance between your lips and tongues, you sometimes even got dizzy after kissing Billy but you were more than happy to get drunk on him rather than on vodka.

But today you wanted to hang out with Nancy, Johnathan, and Steve, you hadn’t been seeing them much since school started again since, well, Billy was a handful.

“I’ll see you later sir”, you whispered as you gave him the last peck and walked away from him with a smile on your lips.

Billy stayed stunned after a few seconds and cursed to himself but he knew that you were in the mood for partying and the least he could do was give you space to be by yourself, to have times with your friends. He didn’t want to admit it but he had taken a lot of your time the past few weeks, he had wanted to take advantage of his father leaving Hawkins for a work trip, so he had spent most of his time buried inside of you or sleeping next to you or laughing with you, etc. And he wanted tonight to be no different, but he also respected you and your wishes. So, although he wasn’t too excited, he managed himself. He quickly threatened his way to get a whole bottle of tequila and went outside where Tommy and Carol were waiting for him already.

“You look stunning!”, Nancy gasped as she saw you, you twirl so they could give a look at your outfit: A tight black leather skirt, military boots, and a cutout band t-shirt from Billy.

Steve and Jonathan cheered for you as you moved your hips and Nancy clapped, while you then twirl her around for her to model her outfit.

“You look stunning all the time!”, you replied as you hugged Nancy.

“That’s indeed true”, Johnathan muttered as he pulled in Nancy for a kiss on her forehead while she wrapped one arm around him, quickly pulling him into a passionate kiss.

Steve rolled his eyes as he got closer to you, “Are we going to dance?”, he whispered in your ear and it made you shiver.

You couldn’t lie that you had a thing for Steve when you were younger than you were less than thrilled when he started dating Nancy but as time passed, your feelings had changed and Steve became just a great friend in your eyes. Although, it didn’t mean that sometimes Billy didn’t get jealous of him and how close you two were. But he had come to accept it, as he should, and Steve also started to deal with Billy by your request since he didn’t really like him after he had dethroned him as King of Hawkins.

“Yes, we are”, you replied and quickly pulled Steve into the living room where everyone else was dancing.

The way you felt the music cruising through your body made you get lost on it, eyes closed and jumping, swaying your hips to the beat, laughing, and smiling all along. Should I stay or Should I go from The Clash was the tenth song you had danced to with Steve and you were sweating from bopping your head to the last bit, throat a little bit sore from screaming the lyrics at the top of your lungs.

Steve wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss on the top of your head. “I forgot how good it was to dance with you, Y/L/N”, you nodded without much breath but you turned around to see one of the boys from Billy’s group watching you with malice. The narrowed eyes and puckered lips weren’t anything new for you, especially from his “friends” or followers, but you knew how much they would like to initiate any rumor that could create any drama in Hawkins since they didn’t have anything more exciting to do.

“I’m going to get something to drink”, you muttered as you glared at the loser who had been watching Steve and you, but soon he turned to the patio, where you imagined Billy was.

You rolled your eyes; you knew you had to do damage control with Billy. Although Billy seemed like he had all the confidence in the world, you knew deep down he was insecure thanks to his relationship with his father, and especially, as months had passed by, he was insecure about your relationship sometimes. It seemed to him that you could do so much better and he was perpetually on edge when he thought about you and Steve too much, although he trusted you completely.

And on your part, it wasn’t too different, Billy had girls throwing themselves at him permanently which was always annoying, girls who whispered at him that they would make him feel so much better than you ever did and that they wished he could make them scream. Billy had assured you and showed you that he only had eyes with you, and it did become funny sometimes because if there was someone in love with his girlfriend was Billy Hargrove. But still, sometimes that burning feeling that crept its way your heart and spread it through your body, making you feel like you could spitfire didn’t go away.

Especially not at the moment.

Billy was outside, playing a nice game of beer pong and chugging more beer than you thought he would like tonight, but there he was… with Heather freaking Miller. She was leaning into a flustered Billy as she giggled while he poured the beer on his mouth, a little bit too fast that it made the drink spill all over his naked chest -he always lost some buttons or his shirt at some point in a party-, you imagined that he was a bit tipsy at the moment but you couldn’t help to feel your stomach twisting as you saw Heather pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.

You spun on your heels faster than you could even imagine, not even wanting to watch Billy’s reaction to her kiss and if you had been a bit drunker, you might have been bold enough to start going off at her and Billy. But you weren’t in the mood, to hell if Billy was told something about Steve, whatever.

“You said something?”, a guy in the kitchen asked you, as you leaned on the kitchen island in front of the living room that served as the dance floor, realizing that you had been muttering out loud. There weren’t many people in the kitchen, the great majority of the people were dancing or outside, but there were two boys.

You huffed as you turned around and saw the guy. He had short brown hair and a nice smile as he sipped from his red solo cup. He looked familiar and you remember him being a cheer on after a basketball game while you were a Sophomore at Hawkins High and he was a Senior. He was from an affluent family, you remembered that as well as you might have seen him in one of your parent's Christmas parties, but you weren’t social.

“Do I know you?”, you asked a bit coldly, annoyed still at the image of Heather and Billy.

“Burn!”, another boy close to the one that had just talked to you shouted as he laughed at his friend. You recognized him too, he was also known as a Senior when you were in Sophomore, he wasn’t on any team but he was on the popular crowd.

You vaguely remember the class that had graduated that year, only remembered a few bullying incidents but mostly that they were sexist assholes. You hoped that college had changed them, at least you liked to believe people could mature, but seeing them three years later in a party of their high school didn’t give you much hope.

“I’m Brad”, the boy with short brown hair stated as you sighed and smiled, trying to be as polite as you could taking into account how mad you were. “This is Chad”, he said pointing to his friend.

“Y/N”, you answer as you shook his hand as he had offered it.

He held it for a bit too long and you felt goosebumps erupting on your skin, but they weren’t good goosebumps, the way he was looking at you was way too intently but you figured that he was trying to flirt and score a girl.

“Brad! I just…”, another boy came from the living room with a bottle of tequila in his hand as the three of you turned around to watch him, you took the opportunity and removed your hand from his hold as your eyes began to look for some wine or vodka to take to Steve. “Who’s that?”, the same guy muttered as he got closer to Brad and Chad.

“Shut up, Logan”, Brad rolled his eyes as he saw you reaching for a bottle of vodka, he quickly took it and then handed it to you with a strange smile. “You have to apologize, my friends, they are…”

“Wonderful?”, Logan said with a smirk.

“Charming?”, Chad answer as he seemed to be taking something from his Varsity Jacket, you didn’t manage to see really what he had since Brad quickly placed solo red cups for you to do shots in, blocking the view.

“Annoying”, he stated as he poured a bit of the vodka on two small cups and then passed the bottle to his friends. You smile at the way he said it, the guy had a charm but there was still a hint of something you didn’t like. Something that didn’t add up to his pretty greyish eyes or his sharp jaw. “Want one round?”

You sighed and nodded. At the moment, you only wanted a drink and don’t think a lot about Billy and Heather, you didn’t want to be too mad about it, especially since it was your idea to do a party plan and you left the road wide open for girls like Heather to flirt with Billy.

It felt like it was your fault.

“Sure”

The vodka burned your throat a little bit more than you would imagine but you didn’t care. It tasted okay enough and your eyes simply wondered towards the patio door, in the hopes that Billy might come looking for you but there was no sign of him coming.

“You have a boyfriend?”, you heard Brad asking and you turned around as you passed a hand through your hair. You watched as Brad’s friends began pouring another round of shots with the vodka but your attention went right to Brad again.

“I do, he’s with another girl at the patio”, you muttered angrily as you took a hold of the shot and chugged it right in. The vodka still burned on your throat but it now felt bubbly, still burned a bit more than before but you figured it was because you hadn’t been drinking in a while.

“Ooh”, the two friends shouted and it made you roll your eyes, they weren’t being good company and you tried to snatch the bottle of vodka from the table where they had left it but Brad took it first.

“Let’s do two more rounds, it will make you feel better”, he cooed as he got closer to you.

If this was any other moment, at any other party, you would’ve said no and leave without a bottle and look for Billy. But the blonde hair from Heather on Billy’s shoulder, his laugh, and her lips on his jaw were burned on your head at the moment and you wished that maybe vodka could help you, you wished that angry drinking would be enough to make you feel better.

“Fine”, you answer with a smirk and Brad smiled as well, his friends cheering in the background as you chugged another shot that had been served by you.

It had to be almost four more rounds of shots of vodka -at least you believed but it didn’t taste like vodka after the second- that they had handed to you when you began to feel weird.

It began slowly, the sleepiness taking over your body, spreading from your belly towards your chest, and soon it seemed to get on your head. It didn’t feel bad right away, simply weird. You were never a hard drinker, you had never blackout before and you weren’t planning to tonight. Getting tipsy? Yes, getting drunk? Maybe, but this felt like it was happening faster than what you had anticipated.

You closed your eyes and leaned into the kitchen island for a second, trying to recover your breath to see if that was it, you just needed a little break. But as seconds passed, you felt your muscles getting sleepier and even when your eyes were closed, you felt like you were on a carrousel and it wasn’t stopping.

“You don’t look so good”, you heard Brad said as he wrapped his arm around your waist, which you tried to get off but it seemed as if your muscles were going in slow motion. “You want to go to the bathroom?”

You felt like you could vomit at his questions, it sounded wrong. You shook your head as you opened your eyes and glared at him, motioning for him to let you go and he did, but as you turned around everything began to be blurry.

“Iwanttodance”, you slurred, words tumbling against each other. You began walking towards the living room, trying to get away from the kitchen while you desperately tried to look for Nancy, Johnathan, or Steve.

You felt your head getting dizzier and dizzier as each second passed, your brain seemed to be trying so hard for your limbs to move at the pace that you needed them too but they felt disconnected like there was a short-circuit between them.

You weren’t sure when they had actually disconnected, it had to be a second before you reached the living room by going down simply two steps. It was something you were sure you could accomplish, not even on your worst drunk stories you had been so unaware of your body, you had never felt like that. So, it wasn’t a surprise when you saw the world turning upside down and you felt a sharp pain on the right side of your body, your head crashing on the floor as you closed your eyes from the impact.

You fell, badly.

You whimpered in pain as you felt people’s gaze on you, although you had your eyes closed you could feel people’s presence close to you and you wish you could even stand up but it seemed like nothing worked and you could only motion simple things You heard a couple of people laughing, guessing that maybe you were too drunk and were unable to handle your booze. You felt some girls getting closer to you and asking if you were okay but your words weren’t really words anymore, only mumbles, the pangs of pain still spreading through your torso, hips, and legs while the numbness started to spread as well.

It was even getting hard to keep your eyes open for too long.

Before you knew it, someone was wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you off the ground. You prayed it was Billy or Steve, with Nancy by their side or even a couple of the girls who had been asking if you were okay.

“Seems like she’s ready to go to sleep”

You froze as you heard Brad’s voice and a deep feeling of panic started invading your body. You protested, at least you thought but your words didn’t come out from your mouth, your eyes were still close as the pangs of pain from the fall were disappearing quite quickly, which made you worry.

Brad quickly took a hold of your body and carried you bride-style to god knows where, you suddenly felt your stomach sinking as you realized how weak you were and the fact that you were in the hands of strangers. Sleepiness crawling over your body and anxiety too, everything began to become foggy.

“We’ll take care good care of you” Logan stated as you felt the music farther and farther away.

You whimpered in protest as you opened your eyes as you tried to shimmy yourself out of his hold but it just came as spams on your limps, nothing strong enough and it seemed like they were going through the foyer, towards the door.

“Stop”

Nancy’s voice felt like it had been sent from the sky, you tried to turn your head as quickly as you could and there she was. “Who are you?”, she asked as she got closer to you.

You knew Nancy might be little, she might have been a little mousy when you met her but she was fierce and she could end anyone who came on her way. Such a small girl could raise hell if she decided to and you felt like crying with happiness when you -in a blur- watched her crossed her arms across her chest and glare at the guys she was standing in front of.

“She’s feeling bad”, Brad explained with a shrug but the sassy nature of his answer gave him away to Nancy, “She had a lot to drink and she told us to get her home”

“She has a boyfriend for that”, Nancy replied right away angrily. “And friends that know her”

“We are her friends”, he barked back and it made you jump on your inside.

These guys were aggressive, the way that he answered to Nancy… you felt like tears were pooling in your eyes. This was not okay and panic raised again, flooding your body. You needed Nancy to take you away from their paws, now. You didn’t want to think where this was going if she didn’t manage to stop them.

“Nancy” you managed to mumble and with all the effort you had, you tried to take a hold of her but your arm gave up before you reached her, soon your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your head fell backward.

You were too weak.

Nancy froze for a second with fear as she saw your state, and so hell was loose.

“Get her down now!”, Nancy’s growl made your body tremble, it was so loud that you were hoping that anyone else noticed.

“Fuck you”, Chad replied as you heard a struggle in front of you… they were holding Nancy now as Brad began to move again, your heart sinking

“Her boyfriend is being called right now!”, Nancy yelled as you could hear her struggling while you passed in front of her.

The cold air hit you hard and you cried as you tried to move from Brad’s hold but he wouldn’t budge, they had managed to sneak you and this was the worst-case scenario. Billy was the only thing you thought before your brain began to shut down when you began to drown in the darkness.

“We shouldn’t have given her so many”, Logan muttered as he opened the door of the car that was parked in the front patio of Tina’s house, close to many others.

“Can you just shut up?”, Brad growled as he tightened the hold on your body, and tried to see how he could fit you in the car correctly.

“Maybe it’s better”, Logan muttered as he opened the driver’s door, still talking to himself. “She won’t remember anything”

“WHERE IS SHE?”

The growl coming from the main door from the house shook Brad and Logan to the core. They both turned around to see Billy, exiting the party with Steve and Nancy behind him.

Billy had been trying to get a Heather Miller off his back since he had started to play a beer-pong match, it had all been easy and messing around until Heather had come in and began to linger closer to Billy each time he drank. She had placed a kiss on his jaw when he had barked at her to back off, people began to laugh around them and scream things, Heather seemed to be annoyed by the statement and tried to talk him out of being so aggressive. Billy remained silent and shrugged her off each time she tried to flirt with him again, it was annoying to him and he knew that his friends would take any chance to start a rumor that could affect your relationship. So, the rest of the time he tried to get as far away from Heather as he possibly could, he even flipped her off before Steve had run towards him and ask him to go with him.

Billy felt as if a black hole had grown in his stomach as Steve told him what had happened, that some guys were trying to take you somewhere and that you were barely conscious, that Nancy was trying to hold them back but you needed him now.

Billy wasn’t exactly sure how fast he had arrived, how he didn’t even notice the guy on the floor that Nancy had managed to beat up with a flower vase at the foyer or how he couldn’t hear anything because his heart and breathing were so loud that he could only focus on what he saw.

And there you were: completely limp, head falling from Brad’s arm, eyes rolled back on the back of your head. You seemed so small; it shook Billy.

Sometimes Billy had these gaps in time when he became so mad that he didn’t feel like himself anymore, he could only feel the anger filling his body as the seconds passed. It was almost automatic when his hands formed into fists and he began to growl. You had talked to him about it and had helped him to never lose control again since you began dating, helping him breathe and control his emotions.

But not this time.

Billy yelled as he took Logan first. The guy didn’t even have a second before Billy yanked the keys out of his hands and smashed the boy’s head against the window of the car. Billy didn’t really notice when the window cracked, he only noticed when it broke in front of him as he smashed once again Logan’s head.

Logan fell on the ground with a groan, blood coming out of the right side of his face, laying with the broken glass on the floor. Billy then turned around quickly to go and get you, Brad had already been cornered by Steve and Nancy while Johnathan tried to rip you off from Brad’s hold.

“HEY!”, someone yelled as he pushed Billy making him slam against the car door.

Billy turned around to see Chad, nose already bloody from Nancy’s punch and more coming out of his eyebrow cut thanks to the vase. The guy was already beaten up by Nancy, badly, but Billy didn’t hesitate to beat him to a pulp with his fist. It seemed rather like a gap of time where Billy had no control, as his knuckles slammed against the guy's jaw while he screamed in pain. Chad managed to punch Billy on his ribs but Billy quickly retaliated and knocked him out with a single punch.

Billy’s breathing was too shaken up, he almost couldn’t even hear how Nancy had been telling him to stop as he kept kicking the guy on the ground. It was only until Nancy hit him in the back of his head, rather hard, that he turned around.

“We got her”, Nancy yelled at him as she glared at Billy. She didn’t seem too shaken up, her hands were bloody as well and her eyes seemed steady.

Billy’s eyes traveled to Steve who had you in his arms while Johnathan let Brad fall from his hold against the car, his nose was already bloody, as well as his lips. But at the moment, Billy didn’t care about anything else, he got closer to you so quickly that he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Y/N”, he whispered as tears began to stream from his face.

You didn’t respond, your eyes with long lashes were closed while your arm was dangling. You were cold, you usually got cold as Billy would work as a heater for you, but right now you were too cold.

It hurt.

Billy swore he had heard something breaking inside of his chest, he sucked in a breath as he pressed your cheek with his palm as if in any moment you would open your eyes again, that you would watch him lovingly and place a kiss on his lips like many times before but you didn’t react, you seemed lost.

It hurt him so much that when he heard a groan coming from the floor, he saw Brad there with barely any real damage on him. Billy felt his muscles tensing up as he walked towards him, ignoring Nancy’s pleas. Billy seemed like a robot as he quickly opened again the door of the car and place Brad’s hand on the edge, without much thought, he shut the door roughly.

“aaaaAAHHH!!”

The painful scream coming from Brad’s lips shocked Nancy and Steve, and even you in your state. The scream had been the only thing that had managed to make you come back from the darkness, you couldn’t really move but your body was screaming for something to happen but your limbs seemed useless.

Billy quickly kneeled and punch Brad again, making his nose bleed even more. The groans and whimpers coming from Brad didn’t bother Billy, it only bothered him when he wrapped one hand around Brad’s neck and he noticed his knuckles already getting purple.

He hated being like this. He knew you would disapprove if you had been there watching him but the rage that he was feeling at the moment, he hadn’t felt it in such a long time that if he thought he remained still, he would burst.

“I see you or your rat friend’s again, and I’ll kill you”, Billy murmured as he let go of Brad’s neck and allowed him to breathe again as he coughed thanks to the pressure Billy had on him.

Billy turned around to see Nancy, Steve, and Johnathan looking terrified, he tried to shake it off and came back to you.

“They must have roofied her”, Johnathan explained as Billy was desperately trying to wake you up.

“Y/N, please are you there?”, Billy couldn’t believe it was his voice, so wobbly and small as he moved your hair from your face and took a hold of you had, begging internally for you to wake up.

You couldn’t believe it was his voice either, you wanted to scream and cry, you wanted to be held by him and feel safe again. But you couldn’t do anything, you could only beg your body to move, nudge, talk, do something.

And it seemed as if it had listened to you for a moment.

“Billy”, the whisper was so faint that Billy wasn’t sure it was real, he stopped dead on his track and saw how your glassy eyes were half opened and Billy felt his shaking hands coming over to your hand.

But then you suddenly gave up, the darkness eating you once again as your eyes rolled to the back of your head once more and you were lying there, emotionless.

Billy felt his body cold.

“Y/N?”, Billy asked as tears streamed down once more. “Baby?”, Billy’s voice was so raw and shaken up that it almost scared Nancy as he looked at her and yelled. “Nancy, what should we do?”

Nancy stayed still for a second, doubting herself but then she walked decidedly towards Steve who was holding your body. “We have to check her breathing and her heartbeat”, Jonathan coming right up helping her to check your vitals, while Billy gave a step back and held your cold hand.

“She’s still breathing, it’s like she fell asleep”, Nancy answered.

“We have to take her to a hospital”, Steve stated as he held you tighter on his arms.

Billy panicked and shook his head, knowing exactly that -even though your parents had come to accept your relationship- they wouldn’t waste a second if he gave them a reason to break you guys up.

“Her parents would know; you know they would never let her see me again”, Billy explained to Steve, his eyes pleading with him not to do it because he knew what the consequences were and he might ruin what made you and Billy happy.

Steve didn’t like Billy, but he had never seen him like this or anyone for that matter. He had never seen such true desperation; he had never seen someone show such raw emotions for someone. He didn’t like Billy, but you did and Steve knew that Billy was everything you wanted.

“Fuck, what should we do?”, Johnathan sighed as Billy began taking you from Steve’s arms.

Billy remained a second as he adjusted you in his arms, his arms around you securely as he watched you carefully. You seemed so pale and fragile, and he hated it because he knew that this wasn’t you. He couldn’t get out of his head how scared you must’ve been before you went out, what they had done to you. He wanted to take you to the hospital, he knew it was the most appropriate way but he also knew that he really couldn’t and at that moment he had a flashback to California when people took more pills than they should.

“She’s going to have to throw this up”. Billy stated as he tried to wipe the tears with his shoulder as he took you into the house, as quickly as he could.

“Billy, what are yo-”, Nancy protested as she followed him but Billy was on a mission,

“She couldn’t have taken them too long ago”, he muttered as he entered Tina’s house.

He was shaking as he muttered to himself deliriously: you are going to be okay; you are going to be okay; you are going to be okay. He pulled you closer to his chest and his eyes urgently tried to find a bathroom, people were gathering around him at the entrance of the party, watching Billy splattered with blood and knuckles purple with you limp on his arms. Billy didn’t care about the people as he tried to see where was it better to take you, he even wondered if the kitchen was right but he knew you wouldn’t want anyone to see you or him in that state.

Tina ran towards him, as she was about to speak Billy interrupted her.

“Tina!” He screamed, his voice was raw and torn -the urgency in his electric blue eyes seemed almost psychotic-, she shook at his scream. “Bathroom with a shower”

“Oh my god, what happened?”, Tina squealed as she tried to get closer but Billy stepped back.

“Bathroom”, he growled once more startling Tina.

“Upstairs in my room! Turn to the left”

Billy said nothing as he ran upstairs, adjusting you in his arms as he followed Tina’s instructions. He let out an all-encompassing sigh of relief as he entered the bathroom.

“Come on, come on baby”, he whispered as he placed you on the tub and then turned on the shower. The lukewarm water began to wash your legs and lower abdomen as Billy hurried and placed himself behind you.

He made sure that you were well position, laying on his chest so he could sit you, and then he began to place his fingers on your throat. But nothing was happening, you weren’t reacting as he tried to place his fingers on the right spot for you to throw up whatever they had given to you.

Tears began to fall from his face, a part of him glad they were being masked with the drops of water. Billy felt like he wanted to puke himself as he gazed at the bottom of the bathtub and realized the blood was being mixed with the water -blood from the guys that he had beaten up and his own coming from his knuckles-.

He shivered at the thought of how badly he had reacted and what would you think of him, but he quickly snapped out of it as he continued to cry for you.

“Y/N please”, he cried. “Baby please, come on”.

Billy’s voice seemed so broken and raw, his pleas could be heard by Steve and Jonathan who were outside the bathroom while Nancy was talking to Tina outside her bedroom, convincing her not to enter until you were okay.

But you weren’t okay, nothing was happening and Billy snapped.

“pLEASE! Y/N”, it seemed as if his screamed had ripped through his chest as he held you, and once more, he placed his fingers on your throat in one last attempt.

The gagging was like music to his ears, how your body finally reacted and you raised a bit from his chest with the help of Billy and you began to throw up. You felt like if you were getting out every organ inside of you as your body spammed as you threw up with Billy’s face bury on your neck as he held you.

It wasn’t until you finally stopped after a minute of throwing up everything you could, that you realized that the fogginess and darkness that had trapped you were leaving, your head was clearing again and Billy felt like he could breathe. It wasn’t like you were completely fine, your breaths were still raggedy but they were stronger than before and you could raise your head for a second, hold yourself.

You could hold yourself enough to throw up once more, another round, but this time it felt more like a reaction of the fear that you felt from those guys. You didn’t want anything inside of you, nothing from that night, the thought of those guys made you sick.

It wasn’t until you were unable to throw up anything else, you turn around softly, still feeling woozy.

And there he was, the only one you had ever wanted.

Billy’s hair was wet, the streams of water were still falling from his body but you recognize his tears as well. His blue electric eyes that had always been heaven to you, were red from crying and his usually tan skin seemed as white as a paper, completely pale, he looked terrified.

Indeed, Billy was terrified but he tried not to show it as he caressed your hair and help you lay more comfortably on his chest. It was only when your eyes connected and you took a big breath that you began to cry. The tears were streaming without control from your eyes and it seemed like before, you just wanted to feel empty and clean and safe. Billy held you as close to him as he could while you sob.

He kissed your head, he kissed the back of your neck and your hands as you whimpered and tried to hold anything from him, the craving of him becoming stronger every second.

“Hold me”, you slurred and Billy nodded, wrapping his arm around your body as you cuddle against him while being wash with the water.

“I’m so sorry”, Billy whispered as he rocked you back and forth. “I’ll never leave again”

His voice sounded so truthful that you began to think that he meant something for good, so permanently that it made your heart skip a bit but you didn’t want to say anything, you simply nodded and leaned into him even more, burying yourself against his chest.

“I love you”, he whispered.

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yeojaa · 4 years

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GIRL we need a devil in a new suit drabble where jungkook gets jealous pls bless us😭😭❤️

[ read devil in a new suit ]

pairing. jjk x f!reader. rating. explicit. tags. kook being hilarious and naive, reader being a little frustrated but head over heels, smut in the form of: titty sucking (kook is a big boob guy in this), cunnilingus, kook wanting to love you forever. wc. 2.1k. author note. i am... so in love with this couple so what was meant to be a “kook gets jealous and breaks reader’s back” turned into... this.

Jeon Jungkook doesn’t get jealous. Not because he doesn’t care, or he’s unaffected, or any other negative connotation under the sun. He doesn’t because he’s him, too soft and sweet and silly to believe the worst in people. (This, coming from the man who’d steered clear of dating apps and blind dates because he was worried he’d be hurt.)

Once, you’d been waiting for him to pick you - he’d been running late, dinner with his parents and younger sister - and he’d found you chatting politely to an old fling of yours. Well, maybe not so old. A recent fling, a friend of sorts. Someone who’d swanned into your life during your college years and had remained there ever since, popping his head in from time to time.

You’d always been on good terms, caught up for lunch every six months or so when he’d return home from his overseas job. In the past, you’d found familiarity in the shape of his hands, the neon outline of his almond eyes and pouting lips. He was good in bed, as charming between the sheets as he was on the street.

But your heart belonged to Jungkook now - had, before you’d even realised it - and Taewoo was just another guy. Another face in a crowd.

Still, you’d thought your beloved boyfriend would have some sort of reaction. Maybe a quirk of his perfectly groomed brows, a certain tightness belying his displeasure in the softly peaked bow of his mouth. You’d spied neither after extracting yourself from the hug and waving goodbye. Jungkook had been sunshine and sweetness, opening your door for you and stamping a kiss to your cheek.

That night, he’d loved you how he always had, with you crying his name and making a mess of his sheets.

Another time, you’d been at a work function. One of those ridiculous galas you loved, full of women in their highest heels and men in their swankiest watches. (You’d worn Aquazzura that night, Jungkook with an Audemars Piguet loose around his wrist.)

He’d stuck close to your side, far more interested in the way your dress hugged your figure, cut intimidatingly high over your thigh and revealed the swell of your ass at juuuust the right angle. Yejin had been the only one to tear him away, insisting on shots that you knew she couldn’t handle. Anything went if free booze was involved.

Thirty minutes later - give or take, since you hadn’t had a watch of your own on - your boyfriend had returned, flushed and adorable. There’d been a garden of colour creeping over the expanse of his chest, peeking around the collar of his shirt and disappearing into his neatly tousled strands. He’d giggled his way back to you, somehow completely oblivious to the man that’d found you at your table and settled himself into the spot labelled Jeon Jungkook.

The imposter had been affronted, gaze narrowed at the younger man who was a little too loose, a little too smiley. Wholly out of place at an event like this, where people spent too much time up their own asses, noses held aloft and business cards exchanged.

(One of the reasons you loved Jungkook so much. He was a breath of fresh air in a world you thrived in - found humour in, at the very least - carrying you high above the clouds with the sound of his laughter.)

“Hi, baby.” Your darling boy smothered you in kisses, traced them up and over the exposed expanse of your shoulder, nosing against your skin, utterly unbothered by the man shooting him daggers, wishing him ill from the spot he’d wrongly claimed.

Of course, he’d thought Jungkook was making a point - claiming what was his - but that was so far from the truth you’d almost laughed when he’d spoken, voice carrying above the slightly laboured breaths of your lover. “I guess that’s my cue to leave, huh?”

You’d smiled, nodded with a hand threaded into cornsilk curling over Jungkook’s nape. “Looks like it.”

(Then your idiot love - your big-hearted moron, your doe-eyed baby - had come up for air, cheek resting in the palm of his hand. “Where’s your friend?” He’d asked, eyes so wide you couldn’t doubt the sincerity of his question.)

Such was the kind of person Jungkook was, with an unwavering belief in the goodness of others, a silver thread outlining everyone’s silhouette. You sometimes wondered what it would take to drive him to any sort of displeasure, any sort of emotion beyond quiet melancholy (seldom seen but heavily felt, when the rare occasions rose) or easygoing amicability (his default setting). Not that you’d ever push to see that, of course.

You were happy. Hopelessly in love. You wouldn’t have traded him for the world - couldn’t even fathom doing anything to hurt him.

And yet, you discover albeit by accident - it’s really not that hard. All it takes is a pretty girl.

“This looks incredible,” she says, standing close, long dark hair falling in a fluid curtain down the line of her back. It’s the loveliest shade, cool-toned beneath the boutique lights, and reflects colour like a waterfall. You’d complimented her on it when you’d stepped into the fitting area, a handful of hangers set across the rolling rack.

Fingers smooth over embroidery, revelling in the feeling of it over your skin. It’s a beautiful thing, black tulle that hangs to your fingertips. Not Jungkook’s preferred style - he much prefers harnesses and so many straps it might as well be a cat’s cradle - but you think he loves it nonetheless.

(You’d confirm, but he’s been stoically silent, seated in the plush chair tucked beside the privacy partition, normally soft gaze hard and trained on his phone. He doesn’t seem very much in the mood to talk, hardly reacting with each outfit change. A nod here, a smile there. Not even the most scandalous of the options - a black corset decorated in Leavers lace - had elicited his usual enthusiasm.)

“You think so?” You’re not insecure about your body - know what it looks best in, which assets to play up. Still, it’s nice to hear from someone other than your doting boyfriend, the people caught in your orbit.

The sales associate nods, beams at you in the multiple mirrors. A hand of her own drifts over the thin strap of the slip - an innocent gesture that dislodges wayward strands of hair from beneath. “Of course— and I’m not just saying that because I’m trying to sell it.”

You nod, satisfied. Even if Jungkook doesn’t seem ecstatic, your own joy makes up for it, buyer’s delight spilling over. “I’ll take the satin robe, the blush silk set, and this in the violet.”

“Great choices,” she hums, pulling back the curtain to the adjoining change room to allow you privacy. Silence follows as you slip the delicate number off, returning it to its hanger. You don’t expect when the brunette continues speaking - presumably to your surprisingly surly boyfriend. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yep.” He’s never been a man of few words, usually so full of excitement that he rambles when he doesn’t mean to.

It’s a dead giveaway - a confirmation that something’s wrong.

Unfortunately for you, you don’t have time to broach the subject, your purchases already paid for and a firm hand on the small of your back the moment you’ve stepped out of the dressing stall. “Jungkookie?” You mean it quietly, just for the two of you, but falter when he slots his fingers between yours and all but tugs you out of the boutique. You hardly even have a chance to toss the helpful girl an apologetic smile, imposing glass swinging shut behind you.

“Men—men are fine. I don’t have to worry about them.” There’s a confidence you’re so proud to see, turning his words as solid as the weight that rests against your hip, sears burning heat into your bared skin. “No other man is going to love you better than me. But women?” A shudder runs the length of his imposing frame, tugs his shoulders up to his ears and tingles the small of his back. “Women are scary.” (It’s a sentiment he’s echoed in the past. In particular, months ago when you’d insisted he dive into the dating scene.)

Hands thread through his too-soft strands, twirl the ends around your fingers as he speaks, nearly muffled into the crook of your shoulder. He’s being so tender, giving you all the love he has to offer as he writes his insecurities into your skin, offers them with the wet of his tongue.

“A woman might sweep you off your feet and steal you away.”

You laugh then - sound snapping past your teeth before you can tuck it away. It filters loudly into the baies scented candle you’d lit when you’d gotten into his apartment.

Jungkook whines in response - a terribly endearing sound that makes you roll your eyes but only with affection (always with that) - and buries his face into your tits, sucking your nipple into his mouth with complete disregard for the tulle that acts as a barrier. Saliva stains the material, makes it stick to your hardened bud as he laves over it with his tongue - bites surprisingly gently - and tugs it just hard enough to have you keening.

“S-s’not funny,” he huffs, palming your other breast in his broad tattooed palm. When he continues, he bites into you like he’s got a personal vendetta against whatever lies beneath your flesh. “She was flirting with you.”

It’s less of a sigh of annoyance - more sensual, drowning in need. “She was not.”

He nips at the delicate flesh again, spreads crimson marks all across the sensitive skin until it’s a mosaic beneath the fabric, his finest work painted by his second favourite brush. “That’s what you think but she was.” The hand previously kneading your skin drops, flat of his palm sliding easily over your bare pussy.

There’s zero hesitation when he slots his fingers on either side of your clit, catches the delicate pearl against the webbing of his hand and applies pressure that has you bucking beneath him. It’s not nearly as aggressive as he normally is but it’s just as good, paired with the sinful motions of his tongue and teeth.

“She wants to be the one doing this,” he continues, saliva pooling across your chest, slipping into the valley of your breasts only to be licked up by the flat of his tongue. He continues even once you’re clean, skin sticky and a little gross but so erotic it makes you quiver. Then he descends, pushes the hem of your new slip higher, and licks another stripe from the joint of your thigh up to your belly button. Repeats it again, moving lower with each pass until he’s sucking your clit into his mouth. “She wants to be the one tasting this pretty, pretty pussy.”

You reach for his hand - the one somewhere near your ribs, side of his wrist soothing against the ladder of bones - and tangle your fingers together as he drives you mad, tip of his tongue switching between sweet kitten licks and tantalising figure eights.

“Baby,” you coax, reprimand almost. Jungkook’s never this lenient, never this sweet on you (not inside the bedroom, at least). It brings you to a different high, his love folded into lovely origami cranes you tuck into your pockets and the spot you’ve carved out for him within your chest.

“Sing for me, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t mean literally - refers instead to the sound of your voice when it leaps three octaves, bounces between sultry and singed, burnt at the edges by the fire he brings to life.

“Tell me you’ll never leave me.” Despite how the words muffle, come broken between the glide of his tongue within your fluttering walls, you can hear the sincerity in them. The earnestness that begs you to promise him this simple thing. “Not for her. Not for anyone.”

“I won’t leave you,” you answer, threading the vow between your fingers as if they’re the thread binding your love story together. “Not for her - not for anyone.”

#anon.eml #bts drabble #bts imagine #bts au #bts fluff #bts smut bts jungkook #jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #incoming.eml #work.zip #drabble.zip #devil.doc #jungkook.doc

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hearteyeschalamet · 5 years

Text

goodnight n go

I love love love Ari and also love love love timmy. pls tell me if u like it lol xoxo

“Tell me why you gotta look at me that way? You know what it does to me. So baby what you tryna say?”

You sat across from him. Everyone had left and it was just the two of you left in your apartment. Empty beer bottles and plastic cups lay around the room. You were on the sofa, him on the floor. You were both finishing your drinks, truth be told you were waiting for Timmy to leave. You wanted to go to bed, your head fuzzy because of the drink. You looked at him to find him looking at you through his curls, a slight smirk on his face. “What?” you quizzed. He laughed. “Nothing,” he said, looking away and shaking his head. He knew you liked him. You’d told him a couple of times, hoping it was reciprocated. It wasn’t. “What?” you repeated, seeing him looking you up and down again. “I don’t know..” he slurred. He was drunk. You both were. All of these feelings and a shit ton of vodka didn’t mix well.

“Oh, why’d you have to be so cute? It’s impossible to ignore you. Why must you make me laugh so much? It’s bad enough we get along so well. Just say goodnight n go.”

He looked down at the bottle in his hands, peeling at the label. He was humming a song to himself that had played earlier that night. He looked so sweet like this, the only lights hitting him were the streetlights streaming in from outside. You were just taking it all in when he opened his mouth and gave out the biggest burp. You shrieked with laughter. “Jesus, Timmy!” you exclaimed, wiping tears from your eyes. “Sorry,” he giggled. “It’s the beer.” he explained. You were in fits of laughter, it completely ruined the prior sweet moment. You sighed, finishing with a small giggle. “I’m tired,” you said, half hinting for him to leave. “Me too.” Timmy sighed, coming to sit next to you on the sofa, putting his head on your shoulder. Hint obviously not taken. He shouldn’t do this. He knew what he was doing. It wasn’t fair. He knew how you felt.

“One of these days you’ll miss your train And come stay with me,”

You sat for a while, not moving, scared this might be the closest you’d get to him. After a while of sitting in silence, Timmy took his phone out and began scrolling. “Fuuuuuck!” he said, his voice raised. “Timothée!” you said, putting your hands over his mouth. “I have neighbours!” He stuck his tongue out, making you snap your hands away. “I missed the last train,” he sighed. You rolled your eyes. Of course he did. “Stay here,” you told him. “It’s not like you haven’t before.” you said, your words slurring now too. “Yeah but..” he trailed off. “Yeah but nothing. Take the sofa. I’m going to bed.” you said, staggering off to your room. “You know where the blankets are!” you shouted on your way.

“You’ll sleep here, I’ll sleep there, But then the heating may be down again, (At my convenience)”

You got to your room and changed quickly, the November cold nipping at your skin. Jumping under the covers, you put your phone on charge, seeing a message appear on the screen from Timothée. It simply read: “cold x” You quickly typed back, “i’ll put the heating on”. You rolled out of bed, into the hall and flicked the switch. “Happy now?” you asked. “Much happier.” he replied. “Night!” he shouted. “Niiiiight!” You got to your room and settled back into your bed, pulling the covers right up. He was right, it was cold. You rubbed your feet together, trying to get some heat going. No use. Why was it not warming up? You reached out to touch your radiator, checking for warmth. Nothing. You sighed, getting out of bed again to check the boiler. You flicked a light on and saw Timmy dart his eyes towards you. “Cold,” he said. “Mhmm, I’m checking the boiler.” you explained, your voice getting groggy now. No lights. No noise. Broken. Brilliant. “Fuck,” you said. “Fuck fuck fuck!” you repeated. “What?” he asked, walking over to join you now. He looked at the boiler. “Ah, shit.” he said. “Well, looks like we’re sharing then,” he said, looking at you, wiggling his eyebrows. “Shut up and come on then,” you told him. He followed you into your room. You had to admit, you weren’t best pleased with the idea of sharing a bed with Timmy but it wasn’t the worst thing to happen. Closer than earlier, anyway.

“Why’d you have to be so cute? It’s impossible to ignore you.”

He flopped on to the bed, closing his eyes lightly and smiling. “Budge your ass,” you told him. “Rude,” he said, fake offended. You both pulled the covers up and faced each other. “Night,” he whispered, looking at you. “Night, Timmy.” you replied. You closed your eyes, finally ready to sleep. You lay for a while, unable to drift off. You opened your eyes to see if Timmy was asleep. He was looking right at you, smiling. “What?” you asked, giggling. “You just looked pretty that’s all,” he mumbled. “Stop it,” you giggled. “What?” he asked. “Just stop..being..cute,” you fumbled. “Sorry, impossible.” he told you. “Gross,” you said, rolling over. He poked your back. “Don’t roll over, I’m not tired.” What a child. You rolled back over to face him. “I am,” you said.

“Know you’re thinking ‘bout it, baby, Just one kiss, While you’re looking at ‘em, baby, read my lips,”

You sat talking for the next half hour. It got to 3am. “Timmy, I’m tired,” you whispered, yawning. He didn’t say anything, just looked at you. Not in your eyes, at your lips. This wasn’t happening. It’s not fair. He’s drunk and horny and knows you like him, that’s all. Don’t read into it, Y/N. Don’t read into it. You went to roll over again, his arm stopped you. “Y/N-“ he started. “No, Timmy. Please. I’m tired.” “Can we just talk?” he asked. “About?” “About us,” You sighed. “You said there isn’t an us. It’s fine.” you said. It was fine, you were still friends and he never played on the fact that you liked him or teased you. It was fine. He was silent again. “I just don’t want anything to happen and one of us regret it, Timmy.” you admitted. “Don’t build my hopes up, please.” He still didn’t talk, again, just looked at you. “Can I kiss you?” he finally said. It took all of the strength in your body to tell him no. “I’m not messing you around, I’m drunk but I’m thinking straight, trying to think straight, and I want to kiss you,” he said. Silence hung over the room. Not an awkward silence but not a comfortable one either. “Kiss me in the morning when you’re sober,” you told him. “It is the mor-“ “Timmy, please don’t,” you pleaded. “You know how I feel about you, this isn’t fair,” you sighed. “We haven’t spoke about it in months, Y/N. Things have changed.” he admitted. “Changed?” you asked. He nodded. “Tell me the same thing tomorrow, then I’ll believe it,” you said. He sighed in defeat then looked to you again. “One kiss?” he asked. You looked at him, not saying anything, not moving away. He had his answer. He leaned in and slowly pressed his lips to yours. It was short and sweet. Neither of you spoke after that. You rolled over and he put his arm around you, pulling you in closer. You smiled. Had things changed?

also: if u fancy sending me requests I'd love to start writing on a regular basis and I love new ideas hehe x

#Timothée x reader #timmy fanfic #Timothée Chalamet fanfic #cmbyn #little women #Timothée Chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet #timothée imagine #timothee imagine #timothée chalamet

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bluetiefling · 5 years

Text

Sanditon Season 2 Wish List

Divided between things I think season 2 absolutely needs to reach its potential, and things I don’t 100% need but I would love. Special thanks to @beavesaintmarie and @eleonoraditoledo for all the great discussions we’ve had about this and to whom I attribute many of these ideas!

Most important:

Sidney and Charlotte having at least one torrid make out while he’s still engaged to Eliza. The kind that’s like up against a wall or a tree, and there’s tongue and their hands are just everywhere, and they almost take it too far before one of them pumps the brakes. The culmination of several episodes of unbearable tension before they can’t take it anymore.

Sidney and Charlotte having sex while he’s still engaged to Eliza. I’m realistic about how unlikely this is but I legitimately think this is an important step in their relationship arc, particularly for Charlotte, and it’s not just because I really wanna see them bone under the most dramatic circumstances possible. This would be about Charlotte’s own emotional journey she’s been on since she arrived in Sanditon and came of age - realizing for herself that she wants Sidney, come hell or high water, and she stops being guarded, stops being shy and afraid about the immensity of her feelings, or worrying about what the right and proper and unselfish thing is. It’d be about Charlotte learning how messy love really is, and diving in anyway. Ideally this would be when Charlotte confesses her love and finds the words and bravery to express everything Sidney means to her, which she of course didn’t get the opportunity to do in season 1. And like yeah, their first time on screen will be that much hotter if they don’t know if it’s going to be their only night together or not, and this ship Deserves that intensity.

A DEDICATED ARC ABOUT FIXING SIDNEY AND GEORGIANA’S RELATIONSHIP WHERE THEY GET REAL SCENES OF THEM TALKING THINGS OUT AND THEY CAN GET TO A GOOD PLACE OF TRUST AND AFFECTION AND BE A FAMILY. They have a lot in common now over their romantic woes and that’s a great starting point for them to start fresh and try to bond. And yeah just, give them complete conversations where they can clear all the misunderstandings between them.

A raw and honest confrontation between Sidney and Tom. It’s got to address everything from Tom’s screw ups to how they got to this point where even years after Tom bailed out Sidney, he still feels he’s obligated to throw his lifelong happiness under the bus for Tom’s sake, while Tom is barely perceptive of Sidney’s emotional state on a good day. This can’t be swept under the rug.

Belligerent UST again for Sidney and Charlotte! Let the pain of this separation strain them so much it bubbles over into anger and frustration, and they need to pick fights with each other because it’s become something comfortable for them, and it’s a release from being that sad and tense all the time over not being together. Sidney agonizes over Charlotte’s determination to be stoic around him so he resorts to provoking her to know she still cares. Charlotte snaps at him over something kinda innocuous because she’s so frustrated about everything else. If there’s another guy contending for Charlotte’s heart let Sidney provoke a big argument with her over it, let her be furious with him for not letting her move on while deep down she desperately wants to see this jealousy from him. Etc etc! These two do that kind of snarky tension so well and I’m so into seeing a new, season 2, version of it where feelings are out in the open.

Sidney having agency when the time comes for the dissolution of him and Eliza. I feel it’s important that when the engagement (or marriage? idk how far it’ll get but we’ll see) ends, it’s a hard choice Sidney makes while there’s still potential consequences he would bear, such as being labeled dishonorable or when Tom’s money situation is not secure yet, etc. I think it’s important for Sidney’s own journey of recovering his self-worth and deciding he’s done sacrificing himself. There shouldn’t be external forces, like someone else swooping in with the money Tom needs, that ‘allows’ Sidney to do this easily. If anyone does swoop in to save them all at some point, it shouldn’t be the deciding factor in Sidney’s choice to free himself and his choice to be with Charlotte.

Charlotte being courted by another man in a serious way which helps her realize the depth of her own love for Sidney and that she can’t be content settling for anyone else. There’s a lot you can do with another guy trying to come in and be a contender for Charlotte’s heart, a jealous Sidney being one of those things. I want to see Charlotte put on a brave face and try to find happiness elsewhere only to find she ultimately can’t, because no one compares to what she had with Sidney, and that’s more obvious to her every day she’s around this other guy. Even better is if she and this other guy get engaged or close to it and Charlotte feels more pressured to not hurt this guy’s feelings but she uh… ends up hurting him anyway because sometimes you can’t help but be selfish when it comes to love. And that it doesn’t make her a terrible person.

Things that are not 100% necessary but I would enjoy very much (under the readmore):

A love interest for Georgiana! I’d be happy with Otis returning and him earning redemption in her eyes, but I admit that I’m keener on the idea of a romance for Gigi that we get to see develop from day one. I’m less invested if the couple already fell in love entirely off screen, so I’d love to see a new guy sweep her off her feet. I have a LOT of ideas for what kind of character this guy could be and where he comes from. Currently my favorite one is that they introduce one of Charlotte’s grown up brothers to fall in love with her? It’d be a pretty easy retcon for one of Char’s brothers to be a 20something, and he’s a hunk. Maybe we haven’t seen him yet because he’s been at university or abroad, and he and Char are super close and he decides to go to Sanditon with her. Or Gigi comes to Willingden and the brother is very into her and decides to follow her and Charlotte back to Sanditon or wherever under the guise of looking after his sister but mostly he wants to be around Gigi. Lots of fun ideas to be had and really I just love the notion of Gigi falling for Char’s brother and it leading to all kinds of cute awkwardness for everyone involved (including Sidney lol). (ideal actor to play this role would be Thomas Doherty! someone save him from the CW pls)

AN EPISODE TAKING PLACE AROUND A COUNTRY HOUSE PARTY. BABINGTON’S HOUSE PERHAPS? House party shenanigans are such a fun staple of historical romance and I’d love it if this was season 2’s version of the London episode, where the action shifts to a different location temporarily and it raises the tension and stakes all around. I want Babington to see how unhappy and stressed Sidney is and he and Esther decide to invite a few friends to spend the weekend with them at their estate. Babington deliberately picks a weekend when he knows Eliza is busy. Tells Sidney to get his ass over there to just chill out for a few days. Esther invites Charlotte. Neither Sidney nor Charlotte realize the other is going to be there until IT’S TOO LATE. Cue all kinds of opportunities for them to get stuck alone with each other in and around Babington’s humongous house and expansive gardens or wherever. This could even be the place they finally just give in and sleep together (Sidney’s guest room will conveniently be just down the hall from Charlotte’s of course)

Replace Stringer with a new guy to be Charlotte’s love interest and a rival to Sidney. Like… I know they probably won’t and we’re stuck with him but Stringer just didn’t do it for me at all and I already know that if they make me sit through his bumbling courtship of Charlotte next season it’s gonna be tedious. I don’t want to hear about his class woes or his dad angst or watch him try to conjure up a whole relationship with Charlotte in his head like he did in season 1 again lol. And the jealous Sidney and alternative courtship story line I want for Charlotte next season won’t be as strong as it could be if they rely on Stringer, because I’ll never believe that Sidney is truly threatened by this guy or that Charlotte could ever see it for him. Like I said, we’re 99% for sure stuck with him but ugh… what if…….

IF THEY DID BRING A NEW GUY TO ROMANCE CHARLOTTE have him be an enemy from Sidney’s past! Of all the options for such a character this to me would be the most fun. Have him be rich and attractive as well to make him even more of a threat for Sidney to sweat over. He can be a good guy at heart who sincerely likes Charlotte or he could just be showing interest in her to mess with Sidney – or a bit of both! Maybe this guy’s actually in love with Eliza and this is all a ploy to get to her! Whatever, it’s all good to me. (CAST DAVID OAKES AS THIS DUDE)

Sidney and Eliza have an honest confrontation. Like I want to see Sidney directly challenge Eliza on this idea that they can just recapture what they used to have when it must be so obvious to her by now that it’s impossible. Eliza being forced to face that Sidney will never love her again, even with time, and questioning if what she really wants is another loveless marriage. I’m into Eliza being the bitchy villainess most of the season but it’d be great too if this story ends with her giving up Sidney graciously.

SIDNEY BEING A WRECK. Especially when season 2 opens. He’s drinking and staying out all night. He’s got a beard of sadness growing in. He’s self-destructive. It gets bad enough that his friends and Tom have to say something (maybe this leads to the big blowup with Tom?). Maybe Eliza even gets desperate enough to ask Charlotte to talk to him lol. I just wanna see Sidney Not Able To Deal and trying to drown out the pain.

Sidney and Arthur becoming closer! To me it feels like Arthur and Sidney don’t know each other that well, perhaps because Arthur was a fair bit younger and was off at school while Sidney was already grown up and running off to Antigua and whatnot. Arthur really proved his quality in season 1 and it’d be lovely for them to bond, especially for Sidney to be closer to a brother who doesn’t need or expect him to look after his interests. And for Arthur to get validation and affection from his distant older brother who he cares for a lot but who hasn’t paid much attention to him in turn for a long time.

Lady Susan whisking Charlotte off to London to cheer her up and introducing her to a bunch of eligible bachelors. I’d love it if this was how the new season began, with Charlotte going to London and not expecting to see Sidney and hoping she doesn’t, but of course she does. And this can be how Charlotte meets the new rival love interest I really want lol. Gigi should be around for this too! Have the two friends reunite at a London party before they eventually return to Sanditon together.

Sidney and Charlotte skinny dipping together! Lmao but seriously! Maybe this can be a scene that happens when the drama is all over and they’re free to be together, like either when they’re engaged or even already married. Maybe it’s the last scene of them in the show, even? It’s poetic, okay!

Edward being a more substantial villain figure and Clara showing up pregnant with his kid! Lol I feel like these two could as easily not return at all next season but if they do, I wanna see Edward level up his villainhood and for Clara to return in a big way, showing you should never count her out. I’d like to see them cause problems for Esther and Babington somehow to give those two something else to grapple with while navigating their first year of marriage together.

LAST BUT NOT LEAST – a backstory twist revealing that Sidney is the illegitimate son of Georgiana’s father, and it’s the real reason why Sidney was entrusted with looking after her! This felt like such an obviously great twist to me all of season 1 and I kept waiting for it to happen. It contextualizes EVERYTHING so perfectly. It would do a lot to explain Sidney’s strained position when it comes to where he stands with the other Parkers. Why he has so little self-worth and feels like he’s gotta do dramatic things like destroy his own happiness for their sake. He’s secretly been a Fake Parker this whole time and so there’s that much more pressure to prove himself to them. It’s a big part of why he went off on Charlotte that night at the ball, when she essentially told him he’s nothing like his two brothers, something that is an inadvertently sensitive subject for him. It explains why Sidney looks nothing like his siblings lol. It could be the reason why he went to Antigua when he was looking for an escape from his Eliza depression years ago. Like he thought maybe he should go meet his real father who he just found out about from his mother, or perhaps Mr. Lambe wrote him a letter revealing the truth, etc. Sidney’s looking for an anchor and tries to connect with him, goes into business with him via the sugar trade against his better judgment, ends up largely regretting the whole experience. Unexpectedly comes away from it with a young half-sister who he is now responsible for and to whom he can’t reveal the truth of their relationship because it’s such a complicated source of shame for him. He probably hasn’t ever told Tom the truth let alone this girl who resents him immediately. He thinks it’s better to just keep Georgiana at arm’s length even though his obligation to her as both guardian and secret older brother makes him want to do better by her, even though he doesn’t really know how yet. I was dying for this to be true because I know it could lead to some deeply poignant scenes between him and Gigi once she found out. I know it’s unlikely now and they probably didn’t put as much thought into this backstory beyond some boring life debt to her father, but I still want it to come true, and there’s no reason it can’t still come to fruition I think. It’d be an amazing revelation to use towards further developing and fixing Sidney and Georgiana’s relationship. They already act like siblings, too, and a twist that reveals they were actual siblings all along would be quite cathartic. I’d really love to see how it would affect Gigi, too, who seemingly has no family left alive and has felt so isolated. MY KIDS DESERVE THIS STORY LINE BASICALLY.

#sanditon #YOUR MOVE ANDREW DAVIES #text post tag #lol we were coming up with so many ideas I figured it was time to collect them all in one place

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 6 years

Text

Non disclosure agreements

Summary: Shawn asks his girlfriend to sign and NDA which leads to a fight.

Warnings: slight fluff, mostly angst

Word count: ~ 2k

Arms wrapped around my waist tightly and I let out a quiet squeal in excitement. I recognized his touch and instinctively leaned back into his chest until there’s no space left between us.

He rests his chin atop my shoulder, lips pressing against my skin right below my left ear. Swaying left to right, he mhm’s lowly into the crook of my neck and I close my eyes in content.

“I could stay like this forever.” Shawn’s warm breath tickles me into slightly craning my neck to his side, smiling widely with eyes still closed. Whenever this man is close to me, this smile is eternally stained upon my lips.

“You don’t hear me complaining.” I say sweetly, moving my hands to overlap his, gently rubbing them across his cold hands.

“This is a future memory.” Shawn whispers and I open my eyes, seeing where he’s going with this.

“If you’re about to quote Stefan Salvatore right now, I swear..” I begin my good-natured threat and Shawn chuckles. His laughter is the summer rain and the birdsong too, and every time I hear it, no matter the weather, the sun brightened. it was an honest rumbling of his soul, as pure and untouched as he is.

“It’s where your boyfriend whispered to you that he loved you. I love you.” He finished his statement with a soft proclamation of love and I melt into him, turning around in his embrace. Cupping his cheeks, gingerly moving my palms across his soft skin, my eyes flicker to his lips.

I lick my lips, biting the lower one until he loses his resolve and pushes his own against mine for a proper kiss. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below my ear, his thumb caressing my cheek as our breaths mingled. I run my fingers down his spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between us until I could feel the beating of his heart against my chest.

Parting became a necessity as my lungs turned desperate for a breath of fresh air. Reluctantly, I pull back and he groans lowly at the loss of contact.

Breathing heavily, I smile at the sound fondly.

“We can’t all be singers with an impressive lung capacity.” I tease, pecking his chin before remembering to check on dinner still inside the over.

“No matter how many times you kiss me, it’s never enough.” Shawn leans against the counter, pinching my cheek. I swat his hand away, narrowing my eyes at him with an index finger pointed at him.

“No pinching!” I order, knowing he loved to do so just to mess with me. Growing up with chubby cheeks meant people often grabbed at them without asking and I hated it more than anything. Shawn picked up on that quickly and whenever he’s bored, pinching my cheeks is his main entertainment.

“Okay, fine.” He puts his hands up in mock surrender, biting his lower lip to suppress a smile unsuccessfully as his bright teeth show mid gesture.

“I thought we could talk before dinner.” Shawn adds, moving toward the dinner table, his smile a little less brighter and more worried.

“What’s up honey bunch?” I throw the mitten on the counter, taking a seat next to him. The smile on my face didn’t relent, my fingers playing with the buttons of his sweater.

“Well, I brought something for you to go over and sign. Andrew finally had it drawn up after finding out about us.” Shawn avoided eye contact, his words being fast and almost slurred together.

“What do you mean?” I retract my hands and fold them in my lap, furrowing my eyebrows at my boyfriend.

“Just an NDA.” Shawn clears his throat, reaching inside his gym bag to retrieve a stack of papers he then laid on the desk in front of me.

“You want me to sign a what now?” My voice goes higher unintentionally. I’ve never been able to hide my emotions, tonight wasn’t an exception.

"A non disclosure agreement. I swear it's not a big deal." Shawn says it so simply, the words rolling over his tongue effortlessly. He could tell his choice of words only made me more upset. As result, his reaches out, taking my hand into his.

I allow him to hold it for a moment, still processing what he’s asked of me.

Nine months being official and he never asked anything like this before and now he brings it up? I want to be calm about this. I want to roll with it and not overreact, but the reason behind an NDA, the implications this request had for me truly shortened my fuse.

Forcefully taking my hand back, laying them both on the table, palm flat against the surface, I turn to my boyfriend.

“Is this what our relationship comes to for you? An agreement?” The frustration is palpable with each word I utter, every single one of them acting as a sharp knife ready to draw blood should it become necessary.

“God, no. Of course not. I love you. I just...it’s not a big deal. It’s normal.” Shawn says in defense, still abnormally calm but he was serious. He truly wanted me to sign these papers and move on from it.

“How is this not a big deal?!” I stand up, no longer being collected as before. I know that when tension is high I should inject love instead of anger, give him an olive branch instead of enmity, but sometimes it just isn't that easy.

“Shawn, this”, I grab the papers and wave them in front of his face before smacking them back on the table.

”This means you are legally binding my trust. It means you don’t trust me to keep your secrets, OUR secrets, unless there are legal repercussions if anything becomes public knowledge!” My cold fury burnt with dangerous intensity. He never worried about occasional fireworks or showers of red hot sparks, it was these bitterly cold, slow burning rages that threatened to engulf our relationship.

“It’s not meant as that. It’s something everyone I know has signed.” Shawn lets out a long sigh, trying to keep his tone soft and understanding, remaining in his seat to cool the situation.

“Did Brian sign this? Huh? Did your other friends? Did Hailey Baldwin?” I push and push, knowingly saying words that were bound to hit their mark eventually. And they did.

“NO! And that was a mistake I won’t make twice.” Shawn jumps to his feet, raising his voice at me for the first time since we met. He slams his fist on the contract with his eyes darkening.

“So you don’t trust me?” I take a deep breath.

When the frustration builds and I think I might explode, I take a deep breath. I want to shout, have a tantrum and beat my hands on the ground like a child. I want to vent, let it out, but I don't want to say words I don't mean, be hurtful. It's just so easy to be cruel in that moment and then the damage is done. So many times I've wanted to unsay things, take it back. I'm learning how to deal with it, but slowly.

“I do.” Shawn says through gritted teeth, a curl falling in his eyes.

“So why force this on me?” My voice is shaky and venomous words no longer cross my lips.

“If you trust me...If you love me...Why drag the law in this relationship? Because it doesn’t feel like you trust me. This contract feels like you’re putting a time mark on us. Like, we’ll be over in time and you’re just making sure once we part there’s nothing coming to haunt you from the past.” I hate how weak and vulnerable I sound right now. I hate how my eyes water and how he doesn’t seem to care.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Y/N. But this is a must. It’s not an end to us and it’s not me being distrustful. It’s about my label needing reassurance. It’s what they want from me.” He explains, softening once more and I shake my head in denial. Denial about the situation and the lack of fight on his behalf. He didn’t even try to assure them we’re the real deal. He didn’t fight them on it. He betrayed MY trust. Simple as that.

“How could you think this wouldn’t hurt me?” My vision blurs and I wipe away the tears that spill over furiously.

“Shawn, you’re the star. You’re the one that’s supposed to fight and stand up for yourself and those in your life. You didn’t even fight them on it, but you’re willing to break my heart.” My tears are surprisingly cold, the hurt inside my chest growing exponentially as the conversation continues.

“You’re my girlfriend. I didn’t expect you to make such a big deal about something so insignificant. You’re mine and I’m aware we belong together, so I can’t understand why this is such a big deal. Sign it and be done with it. We’ll throw it in a drawer somewhere and forget all about it.” Shawn’s words packed a powerful punch. Carefully spoken, without drama, his words had an air of finality to them and no matter how hard I railed against them, nothing would change his mind.

“You don’t own me, I don’t belong to you.” A small laugh escapes my lips in disbelief.

“If it wasn’t such a big deal, you wouldn’t be here pushing me to sign something I’m obviously uncomfortable with.” I take off the apron around my neck and let it rest on the table.

“When we started this relationship, I fell in love with a man. I fell in love with Shawn, the cute guy with an uncanny ability to make my heart soar, not Shawn Mendes the pop star with fans and tours and endless amount of cash. I love you for you, never once asking a single cent or any sort of help from you. And I kept your secrets the past nine months without any contracts. I’d keep them even if we had broken up. I’ll keep them even now. But I’m done.” I walk toward the door, tripping on his guitar case. I chuckle to myself, shaking my head.

“You’re not being serious, are you?!” Shawn rushes after me, finally realizing what I told him.

Putting on my coat, I nod.

“You took the love you offered and locked it back inside that cage you call a body. I was never going to do what Hailey did to you...ever. But now you'll never know, never find out what we could have been, and neither will I.”

I turn to the door, hearing him scramble to catch up with me. He trips on the case himself, falling to the floor.

Turning to see if he’s alright on instinct, I find him on his knees with his chin trembling.

“Please stay. We can talk more about this. You don’t have to sign tonight.” Shawn pleads, but his words only made everything worse.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” I ask, closing my eyes for a single moment to draw in a deep breath, remembering his scent that lingered in the apartment. Opening the door, I take one last look at the man I believed would be the one, adding one last thing:

“Don’t forget to turn off the oven.”

Part 2

Tags: @esoltis280 @accalialionheart @xalayx @ourlittleshawnie

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes fluff

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jawnjendes · 5 years

Text

i could use something good | shawn mendes

university au, shawn x goth gf

AN: this is their First Date and its nearly 4k words and i gave myself emotions so and a bitch is TIREDT so TAKE THIS BLEASE n let me know what u think pls i need it

!!!!also!!!! should i give this bitch a name? should the goth gf be called something other than goth gf??? let me know if u have any name suggestions!

!!!ANOTHER also!!!! i made a playlist!!! its a fuck ton of whiplash! i spent 3 days on it!! enjoy!!

masterlist | series playlist

“If I didn’t know you,” said Stella, who was at my bedroom doorway, “I wouldn’t think you were going on a date with a guy like Shawn Mendes.”

She wasn’t wrong. I was decked out in a long black button up, ripped black jeans, and black Vans. However, I had the decency to keep my makeup colorful. Who doesn’t love bright red eyeshadow, thick wings, and a nude lip? Besides, all black clothing and bright eyeshadow was all I had for the moment. These days, I barely found time for washing my clothes or makeup brushes. My glamorous office job and homework was getting quite demanding. I was surprised I found time to see Shawn on the weekend.

I say that as if I wasn’t putting off psych homework. The last time I did this was for some fuckboy who didn’t care about my grades… or me at all. How did I know it was going to be different this time? Usually, I can tell when someone wants to hook up and leave it at that, but I have spoken to Shawn as many times as I can count on one hand, and I couldn’t detect any of that. Must be a good actor. Maybe he’s done this before.

“Maybe I’ve lost my mind,” I said, more to myself than to Stella.

She heard and responded anyway. “Losing your mind is staying in bed for a whole twenty four hours. You’re getting back into the swing of things, so even if this date goes bad, the interaction is good for you. This is normal for our age.”

Again, she’s not wrong. My antidepressant prescription was finally refilled, so the fog in my head was starting to clear up. It was just way too easy to slip back into isolation. My self destructive tendencies were just being done out of habit at this point.

“When was the last time you went on a date?” Stella asked.

I blew out a sigh and thought about it as I applied lip gloss over my nude lipstick. I was hardly the type to go on an actual date. “Shit, I don’t know. Before college, I think.”

“So you were seventeen?”

“No! I started college late. I was probably eighteen, almost nineteen.”

“That’s still about three years.”

“Well, chances are neither of us are really taking this thing seriously,” I said, putting my lip products into my purse. “He didn’t ask me on a date. He just wanted to hang out.”

Stella clicked her tongue and folded her arms. “So you’re just gonna go get laid?”

“No. I’m past that part of life.”

“So it’s a date.”

“No.”

She was more confused than I was by the time Shawn had texted me. He asked to come up to the dorm, so I gave him the floor and number. According to Stella, I was either definitely getting laid or my man friend was a real gentlemen. I wasn’t sure which one I was more nervous about.

“Should I answer the door?” Stella asked, bouncing on her feet. “So I can tell him that you’re almost ready, and then you can make a dramatic entrance, and he’ll be like ‘you look… wow.’ Y’know the way guys do!” She said all of that very fast.

“And then I say ‘you don’t look too bad yourself,’” I said, amused. “What universe is this?”

We both laughed, but then we were cut off by a knock on the door. Stella looked at my with a grin so wide her dimples came out. I tried to match her enthusiasm.

“I’ll get it,” she said, turning on her heel towards the front door.

“No, I will!” I snapped, suddenly frantic. I pushed past her to answer the door.

“No, you have to make your dramatic entrance!”

“I don’t have to!”

We bickered as we got closer to the door. Mind you, it was five steps from my bedroom. I pretty much slapped Stella’s hand out of the way as she reached for the doorknob, and I knocked her out of the way with my hip. At the last second, she stood behind the door as I opened it.

I smiled wide at Shawn, who had been waiting for thirty seconds too long. He was in a white button up, black skinny jeans, and black boots. Tall and handsome as ever. It’s always the handsome ones that’ll get you. What are the chances I was falling into another fuckboy trap?

He returned the smile, probably acting like he didn’t hear me tackle my roommate. “Hey, you ready?”

I nodded like a lovesick puppy. This was quite unlike me, if you don’t think about the times I was easily swayed by various guys who gave zero fucks. Oh god, am I easy?

Stella was hopping like a bunny from behind the door. I shot her one last glance before stepping out of the dorm and into the hallway.

No one was around to see or feel the awkward air of me walking next to Shawn. It was obvious that we were… into each other? But it was still, for lack of a better phrase, the first date and I was unbelievably aware of that. Just by appearance alone, Shawn and I didn’t look like people who would typically hang out with each other.

Shawn walked with a type of confidence I could only dream to have. People noticed him, people wanted to be friends with him. There was just something about him that draws you in, and it drew in my broody ass.

I walked with my shoulders hunched, my hood up, and my head down. I tried not to be noticed, and I was pretty sure it worked. Strangers in class who tried to talk to me were always caught off guard by my black lipstick and dark eyeliner, like it’s never been done before. I was a little unapproachable, and I didn’t intend for it to be that way.

“So before we go,” Shawn said, “you got any allergies or dietary restrictions I should know about? ‘Cause we’re gonna go eat.”

Okay… doesn’t seem like a hook up situation. I was also surprised he had the decency to ask. The only reason why my face felt hot was because I actually had an answer.

“You ready? ‘Cause it’s a decent sized list,” I told him. Then, I named all the restaurants I couldn’t eat at because I’ve gotten sick from the food. “Also, I can’t have anything spicy, or anything that’s super processed and dripping with grease.”

I didn’t love explaining this to people, but it was necessary. I prefer not being sick, especially on a date. It’s a long story.

“Alright, coffee it is,” Shawn concluded.

We ended up going to the place he and Camila performed at a couple weeks ago. It was much less crowded in broad daylight. Shawn ordered some passion fruit whatever, and I stuck with jasmine tea. I insisted on paying for myself, but nah, I was invited here or whatever.

“Where do you wanna sit?” Shawn asked when we had our drinks.

I wordlessly went for the table at the far corner of the shop. The place was quite small, so we weren’t exactly away from everyone else. From here, I could see the entrance, and the string of customers that would come and go. The bathrooms were also right next to where we sat, so I could make an impromptu escape if needed.

“Away from the sun, eh?” Shawn joked. “As expected.”

If this date was going to consist of goth jokes I swear-

“So how’s your day goin’?” I asked, keeping a smile on my face.

“The usual. I worked, went to class.”

I nodded, playing with my steaming to-go cup. “You said you work at a flower shop, right? What’s that like?”

“Oh, I love it.” Shawn sat up in his seat. “I love the different types of flowers we got. There’s one, a chaenomeles, or a flowering quince - beautiful, one of my favorites.”

The way he talked about being surrounded by pretty plants four times a week was entrancing. He was really into it. He went into detail about arranging flowers down to the vase they went in. He knew his stuff and he loved every bit of it. Damn it, he’s passionate. I like passion in a guy. Damn it.

“So you do the arrangements and you deliver them?” I asked. Listen, I wanted to know more about him and for him to know less about me.

“Pretty much. Although, I’ve been delivering to a lot of funerals lately. That’s probably more your neck of the woods, right?” He smirked.

I scoffed. “Oh yeah, the girl who wears all black must love attending funerals, huh?” I sat back and sipped my tea. “It’s quite the opposite actually, even though I’ll admit, I look like I love death and dying.”

Shawn tilted his head, curious. “Is that not what being a goth is?”

“I wouldn’t know ‘cause I’m not a goth.” A smile almost grew on my face, but I stayed neutral.

Silence fell between us, and I looked down at my cup. I could feel Shawn’s brown eyes on me, and one glance at his face showed me a charming, boyish smile. He knew I knew something, and he was quietly coaxing it out of me.

And it worked.

“Okay, fine!” I said, scooting forward and placing my elbows on the table. “Goths are merely aware of how short and fragile human life is. We-” I cleared my throat, “They acknowledge and accept the fact that we’re all going to mcfreaking die one day.”

Shawn nodded. “Okay, I see. So they’re not afraid of dying?”

“Depends on the person,” I replied. “They’re incredibly aware of the dark side of things - obviously. But they know of the light too. Light and dark, life and death. But anyone can have that mindset, really. So I would say being goth is finding beauty in the dark.”

“So what makes you not one of them?”

I thought for a moment. Yeah, I was fascinated by things that deviated the mainstream. I thought about death more than I’d like to admit. I wore skulls and black lace and dark makeup, but that shouldn’t be a reason to put me in a box. I knew I wasn’t going to stay like this forever. I just never labeled myself as what others labeled me as.

“I forgot where the beauty was,” I finally answered.

That made Shawn smile. He finally got a sliver of what I just might come with. He didn’t say anything either, he just sank into the moment, and it felt like he wanted me to be there with him.

My eyes went around the coffee shop, trying to find a way to change the topic. More people were starting to enter the vicinity. It was getting less chill and more hectic. Then I looked at the table top. We both had our hands around our cups. I found Shawn’s bird tattoo on his hand, something that made him just a little more attractive.

“So what does your tattoo mean?” I asked.

His response had me floored. “Which one? I’ve got five of them.”

Damn it.

“I guess all of them,” I replied, a smile creeping up on my face.

All five of his tattoos were special and deep. Each one gave me more reasons to not ghost him after this was over. Shawn really loved this city. He really loved his family. He loved his mother so much.

“You really love music, huh?” I mused, looking at the beautiful guitar tattoo on his forearm.

“More than anything,” he replied.

“More than flowers?”

“A hundred percent. Playing music is all I want to do for the rest of my life.”

Tell me why that made me genuinely smile. Tell me why that was so goddamn attractive.

I asked him what his favorite songs were to play, and he had a list of sweet love songs I had listened to at a different point in time. He loved writing songs about love, and he revealed he hasn’t been in a proper serious relationship before. Neither had I. Shawn was a year younger than me, so his reasoning was from just that, being young.

Part of me wished that was also my reason.

After talking to Shawn for over an hour, we fell into a silence much less awkward than when we were walking out of my dorm building. I was stuck wondering how a soft, sunshine-y boy like him could find interest in a stone cold storm like me. I wondered, but I didn’t want to tap out just yet.

Once the coffee shop was too crowded, we went out to the street. This part of downtown was still unfamiliar, but I didn’t mind this time. I was talking to a cute boy. A soft boy. This wasn’t a normal occurrence for me.

“What are you thinking about?” Shawn asked me as we strolled down the street.

I was staring at the ground. I really didn’t know what to say. We spent the last hour sharing our thoughts and whatnot, why does he need more? I merely shrugged.

“Alright, well I have another question,” he said. “What made you agree to this date?”

Oh fuck it is date.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “But after spending some time with you, I can say… you’re… charming? And, kind?” I chuckled. “I don’t really talk about things like that so explicitly.”

He looked at me for a second. “Okay, well I do. I asked Stella about you after I saw you at my set. All I’ve wanted to do is to get to know you. You’re just really cool, and really mysterious. It’s kinda drawing me in.”

This had to be a trap somehow. Shawn couldn’t possibly have genuine interest in me. He was all softness and joy, and I was all stormy and bitter. This couldn’t be real.

“I… awesome,” I mumbled, trying to hide my giddiness. Yeah, I was in disbelief, but how often is a guy like that so upfront about his feelings? That is, if he wasn’t lying about any of this.

“You haven’t told me enough about you, honey,” he said.

I glanced at him, placing my hands in my sweater pockets. So he noticed my questioning. “Well, you kinda got it figured out. I’m a girl who likes wearing black.”

“That’s it, eh? Come on, don’t be shy.”

Shyness wasn’t what I would have called it.

“What do you wanna know?” I asked sheepishly.

“Hmm… something crazy that’s happened to you.”

Honestly, it’s just as bad as the word, “everything.” But at least I had something to think about. The craziest thing I did was move countries at the age of nineteen, but it was only crazy in the eyes of my relatives, which was a lot of people. Does that count?

“I got my wisdom teeth out when I was seventeen,” I said casually. “That’s about as crazy as I get. When I was hopped up on drugs, I was telling my mom a tale of a chosen hero who on adventures all over the kingdom.”

Shawn chuckled. “Really?”

“Yeah. My mom recorded it, because she got really into it. She thought I was gonna be the next JK Rowling or something. But when I watched it back, I realized I was just talking about the Legend of Zelda series.”

“Insane. You’re insane.”

We walked a lap around the block, talking about nothing, and then we got back to Shawn’s car. I felt a thrill in my bones I couldn’t explain. I was trying to keep a cheesy grin off my face. I had to keep up my composed exterior.

“So have you been having fun?” Shawn asked when we were inside the vehicle.

“Definitely,” I replied simply.

He looked at me with a smile, and then he was pressing buttons on the radio. “Connect your phone. I wanna hear what you’re listening to.”

I quickly opened the Spotify app and changed the song I was last listening to. Why? It was one of Shawn’s songs. It was too soon for him to know that I was growing fond of his music. Instead, I chose a fairly popular Halsey song, and it played on the speakers.

“Oh, nice,” Shawn said, and he was singing along in seconds.

It got less nice as I listened to the lyrics. This song reminded me of a harder time. That’s probably why I didn’t listen to it for so long.

“You know I’m the one who put you up there

I don’t know why”

Cool way to finish a first date.

I stared out the window and stayed quiet, letting this dumb song swallow me whole. Flashbacks hit me before I could try to stop them. Backseat of my car. Weeks of silence. Feelings like you’re underwater. It made my insides go cold.

“You really get into it, eh?” Shawn asked halfway through the song.

The sound of his voice startled me, but I didn’t jump. I blinked a few times, coming back to present day. I’m in another man’s car. We’re in a different time period.

“Yeah,” I said. “A good song can alter my mood so quickly, I wonder if it’s normal.”

“Oh, I know the feeling. But I also think it has to do with the memories associated with the song.”

Once Halsey finished her song, a slow rock tune played. It was far less triggering, and it had a mile long title.

“She’s the Prettiest Girl at the Party and She Can Prove It with a Solid Right Hook,” I read off my phone. “That’s a banger.”

The following conversation about music helped ground me again. I knew Shawn was passionate about it, but music is the real love of his life. He was looking at the road as he drove, but he had a sparkle in his eyes that shone through the dark. Sometimes he was the flower delivery guy and the singer at a wedding. Sometimes he was the guy who played guitar at a house party.

Shawn was that guy.

We listened to several more of my favorite songs, most of which were symphonic metal. Some of them were lyrically dark, the type that compelled people to do that head tilt and ask “are you okay?” in that voice. Shawn just asked if I wanted to rethink not calling myself a goth, to which I played a Little Mix song to put that shit to rest.

“Oh, Woman Like Me?” he said, surprised. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

“There are many sides of me, my dear,” I told him. We were getting closer to campus, which meant the date was almost over. “You’ve only seen one.”

“Hopefully you’ll let me see more.” He pulled into the parking lot and stopped in an empty space in front of the main building. “So what level am I on now?”

I was shocked he remembered that. But if we’re being real here…

“Two.”

He chuckled. “Two, eh?”

“Yup.”

He hummed. He was looking at me again, and now I was looking at him. His eyes were still sparkling in that stupid cute way, and it was getting me weak.

“This might be the first time you’ve made direct eye contact with me,” he said softly.

“It’s because you’re cute and it confuses me,” I admitted, maintaining the eye contact. There, boy, another little sliver of my feelings.

That stupid charming smile appeared on Shawn’s stupid cute face. He quirked his eyebrows once and licked his lips. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his mouth… This is bad.

“Well, you’re beautiful and it doesn’t confuse me at all,” he said, his voice getting low. You know, that voice that tells you something is going to happen. “In fact, it’s made things more clear.”

I felt myself getting even weaker. My heart was pounding, not just in my chest, but in my ears and my legs and the bottom of my feet. My stomach was turning over in a way that I wasn’t used to. My body was gravitating towards Shawn before my brain could process it.

“I really like your eyeshadow,” he said softly, doing the same motion.

“Thanks,” I breathed out.

Our faces were an inch apart. I got an intoxicating whiff of his cologne. I was teetering on the edge of just diving headfirst, but I had to be strong.

“I don’t kiss on the first date.”

We stayed in that position for a second. Shawn was the one to lean back first.

“Okay, that’s okay. I understand,” he said. He wasn’t smiling anymore.

It was easy to tell my rejection got to him. I didn’t want to leave knowing he was disappointed. I didn’t want him to think that I didn’t like him. I had been more aloof than I’d like to admit on this entire date, so maybe he was getting the wrong idea.

“So we should go on another date,” I told him, touching his arm, “and maybe I’ll kiss you then.” I smiled hopefully.

That was what he needed to perk up again. “Yeah, definitely. I’m looking forward to it.”

I nodded. “Okay. Alright. I’ll text you, or something. I’m gonna awkwardly leave now.”

He chuckled. “Alright. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

I had my purse and my phone on me, and I placed my hand on the door handle. But I stayed in that position for a minute. It was long enough to be weird. Was I really going to leave knowing that we really wanted to kiss each other?

“Ah, fuck it,” I said with a shrug, and then I was turning back to Shawn.

I would have hoisted myself over the center console if he didn’t meet me halfway. Shawn leaned in as quickly as I did, and his lips were pressing onto mine. It was much softer than I had anticipated, and I only realized it when Shawn placed a hand on the side of my face, gently cupping my chin.

My hand went around his wrist as we gently broke apart. It was only a split second of breathing time before I pulled him in for another. I softly took his bottom lip into my mouth, resisting the urge to just pounce on him completely.

Shawn moved his hand to the back of my neck, trying to pull me closer. Tongues and teeth began to clash, and it only made me grab onto his clean button up. Would it be a bad idea to spend some time in the backseat? We were practically leaning over the center console, moving back and forth like one was going to top the other.

But again… I had to be strong.

We broke apart, panting. My fingers stroked his cheek, and his hand found its way into my hair. I felt his quick breathing on my upper lip, and it only made me want to kiss him again.

“I have to go,” I told him.

But he leaned in again, kissing me once more. “Alright.”

“Alright,” I repeated breathlessly. Then I kissed him again, only for both of us to laugh softly.

“So what level am I at now?” Shawn asked with a cheeky grin.

I returned the smile. “Two and a half.”

“Oh, really? I’d say I’m at level four.”

“Nope. Two and a half. But it’s like I said, we’ll go on another date and see what happens.”

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #fourtristattoosspring #shawn mendes smut #shawn x goth gf #deadass tho im so fuckin tiredt #blease validate me i need i

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beca-mitchell · 6 years

Note

#35 for the prompt ask pls! hope u had a nice night out w ur friends!

the adventures of unpacking (1/1)

summary: Beca and Chloe are moving in together. Aubrey, Amy, and Chloe’s parents are helping them on move-in day.

word count: 2.5k

fulfilled for prompt 35: “well this is awkward”

Beca is content.

Beca is content at the moment because there are few things in this world that amuse her more than Aubrey attempting to do something and failing. It’s all in good fun though. She loves Aubrey and has grown to love Aubrey through everything. She stops unpacking for a moment, tilting her head as she looks out into the living room from her vantage point in the kitchen. Aubrey is staring at the pile of unassembled furniture around her, looking like she was the hurricane that swept through the living room.

Currently, the only pieces of usable furniture available are the couch and the coffee table and the couch came assembled. The coffee table was a gift from Chloe’s parents and Beca got the wonderful show of watching Chloe’s arms flex thanks to her sleeveless shirt as she carried the table into the apartment.

“What are you doing?” Chloe asks, holding a small mountain of bowls. Beca blinks and quickly takes the top of half of the bowls in fear that Chloe might drop them.

Quickly putting the bowls on the appropriate shelf, she turns back to Chloe. “I’m watching Aubrey struggle at IKEA furniture. This is like a NatGeo special.”

“You’re so mean,” Chloe says with amusement coloring her tone. She tapers off into a giggle and turns back to their mountain of boxes.

“It’s not mean!” Beca exclaims. “I just…love it when Aubrey sucks at something,“ Beca whispers.

Despite herself, Chloe grins at her before looking over her shoulder at Aubrey – her best friend – and she can’t help but laugh because Beca is right. Chloe had been content living with Aubrey for the past five years, but she has grown to know a lot about Aubrey’s capabilities. While generally able to do nearly anything she set her mind to, Aubrey really did struggle with putting furniture together.

Amy emerges from the bathroom wearing elbow-length rubber gloves and carrying a bucket of cleaning supplies.

“Did you finish cleaning the bathroom already?” Aubrey asks, standing up and wiping the sweat from her brow.

Amy’s eyebrows rise. “No, I thought you were going to do it.”

“Then why are you just carrying the cleaning supplies around?”

Beca laughs softly while slicing through the tape of another box. Chloe nudges her with her elbow, but Beca catches the equally amused smile on her face.

“Shhh,” Chloe hushes, nodding towards where Aubrey is standing right in the middle of a pile of wood and nails, looking nowhere near done with the shelf. Beca watches Aubrey fiddle with two pieces that aren’t supposed to go together at all before she huffs in frustration – in a way only Aubrey can – and throws it into another pile of growing pieces.

Amy wanders over to them, sitting at the kitchen table.

“Who gave her that job in the first place?” Chloe asks when Amy sits down. “I already told you that Aubrey didn’t know how to put shit together, but neither of you believed me.”

“Uh, pretty sure she gave herself that job,” Amy points out, while Beca nods in agreement.

“Are either of you going to help her?”

She receives two simultaneous head shakes in the negative.

Chloe snorts and puts down the dishware she had been wiping down. “Lazy,” she murmurs. She moves around Beca, but not before holding her waist and kissing her messily on the cheek. “I’ll be back.”

Amy gracefully waits until Chloe is out of earshot before she snickers. “You two are disgusting.”

Beca flushes. “We’re not. You’re just terrible.”

They watch as Chloe tentatively steps into the living room, asking if Aubrey wants some help. It startles her concentration and she drops the plank she had been holding, causing it crash against the floor.

Beca snorts, unable to stop herself while Amy quickly covers her own mouth. Aubrey’s eyes swivel towards them quickly, forcing them to busy themselves with their own work while Chloe’s calming tone washes over them all.

Beca has to admit that watching Chloe placate a frustrated Aubrey is an adorable sight. Like a soft puppy trying to cheer up a pricklier, moodier, larger puppy.

“I’m going to help Chloe,” Beca says. “Are you okay in here by yourself?”

“Of course,” Amy responds, looking mildly offended. “I don’t need supervision.”

Beca decides not to grace that with a response and quickly makes her way out of the kitchen. She was just excited to move in with her girlfriend. She should have expected that their friends would only bring chaos and drama.

She wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hey,” she greets. “I thought I’d come help you,” Beca says to Chloe. Chloe smiles gratefully while Aubrey’s eyes narrow even further.

“If you don’t want my help, Beca, I can easily leave.”

Beca’s eyes widen, both in amusement and surprise. “Of course I want your help. Just - unpack in the kitchen while I help Chloe.”

Instead of acquiescing, Aubrey scoffs. “As if you’re going to get any work done. You two are insatiable.”

Chloe snickers while Beca gawks. “We’re not going to…what the fuck? Chloe’s parents are here. Why would we-?”

“She wasn’t talking about sex, babe,” Chloe says once she recovers.

Aubrey looks mildly nauseous. “I simply meant that you two are always flirting with each other.”

“Then why not just say that?” Beca mutters.

Aubrey dusts her hands off on her pants. “At least I won’t have to listen to the two of you having sex anymore,” Aubrey mutters pointing between Beca and Chloe. “You two are not quiet.”

Beca would laugh because Aubrey’s expression is hilarious, but Chloe’s father chooses that moment to walk in balancing a box of pizza and a six-pack of Sprite. The brief silence that follows is only saved by Chloe being completely unphased and leaping up to help her father with his purchases.

“I thought you guys would like some snacks,” Henry Beale says lightly, though Beca can feel his eyes trained on the back of her neck. “Some sustenance for all the hard work you’re doing.“

Chloe smiles and squeezes his arm. “Thank you.”

“Well, that was awkward,” Aubrey says, smirking at Beca once Henry turns the corner to find his wife. She flips open the box that Chloe sets on the coffee table – the only current available surface in the apartment.

“That wasn’t awkward. You’re just making it awkward. He knows we have sex,” Beca says boldly – bolder than she feels, anyway.

Amy grins – a grin that Beca catches the moment she comes into the living room and Beca feels her heart sink. “Does he know you have sex loudly though?”

Beca ends up being the only one not laughing.

It’s not her fault that her girlfriend is ridiculously good in bed. She’s not going to apologize for that.

Thankfully, Chloe settles on the ground next to her and tilts her head for a quick kiss. “You have nothing to embarrassed about, Bec.”

If possible, Beca turns as red as the pepperoni on the pizza. She quickly ducks her head and focuses on eating, as opposed to the sound of her friends laughing around her.

Aubrey laughs, but Beca thinks privately that Aubrey has nothing to laugh at. It was usually Aubrey’s fault that she tended to be home at all whenever Chloe and Beca made it specifically clear that they would be around.

"Oh, I’m not” Beca finally says, clearing her throat. “Besides, it’s not like Aubrey didn’t bring home people too while we were there. Remember that guy from the bar? Or that assistant from my record label party?”

“Nice,” Amy says, raising her hand to high-five Aubrey. It is not well-received.

Beca has to laugh at that. She can’t resist at the sight of Aubrey’s wide eyes and reddened cheeks.

"Leave her alone, you two,” Chloe says from where she’s distributing slices of pizza across newly cleaned plates. Chloe is bent over the coffee table and Beca is momentarily distracted by the clear line of sight down Chloe’s tank top, but refocuses when she catches Aubrey standing up a little taller and trying not to smirk at Beca when Chloe defends her. “As somebody who lived with Aubrey, she was always way more cheerful when she got laid,” Chloe continues nonchalantly.

“I love you,” Beca says. “Have I mentioned that lately?”

Chloe grins. “No, but feel free to tell me again.”

“Christ,” Aubrey mutters. She softens momentarily. “I’m going to miss living with you, Chloe.”

Chloe’s eyes shine with emotion. “Oh Aubrey. Of course I’m going to miss living with you! All those late nights, watching TV, listening to our favorite songs-”

Aubrey nods somberly. “And gossiping about Beca.”

Amy snickers. “Oh yeah, I remember that.”

Beca chokes. “Gossiping about who?”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Come on. I had to talk to somebody about…” She hesitates. “Everything.”

Beca swallows at the tight feeling in her chest. She reaches out to hold the back of Chloe’s neck. “I’m still really sorry about everything, you know that right?”

The journey to finally getting together and being in a committed, healthy relationship was long and painful on multiple fronts. Beca is embarrassed by the thought and memory sometimes, but she’s just so thankful to finally have Chloe.

If only she had acted sooner.

For once, Aubrey doesn’t gag or tease them. She just leans against the back of the couch and smiles with tenderness and affection. “I’m so happy for the both of you, really.”

Chloe reaches out to tangle her fingers with Beca. She smiles at their two friends before focusing back on Beca. “I’m happy too. Like you wouldn’t believe.”

In general, it all goes well for the next couple of hours. Beca and Chloe manage to get their shelf up and their DVDs organized. They’re in the middle of plugging in their home system and TV when Aubrey shrieks so loudly that Beca hits her head on the wooden paneling of their TV’s shelving.

“Fuck!”

Chloe looks equally startled but quickly reaches out to touch Beca’s forehead. “Are you okay? What the hell was that?” she asks, standing and extending her hand for Beca to take.

“I bet Amy broke something,” Beca says lightly. She’s mostly joking, but she regrets it the moment Chloe’s eyes widen and she looks genuinely afraid. “Wait, no-”

“Not my mugs!”

“I was joking! I’m sure everything’s fine, Chlo,” Beca says quickly, following her girlfriend into the kitchen.

It’s Beca’s fault, really. She doesn’t realize what’s going on until it’s too late.

“What’s wrong?” Chloe asks, not realizing what Aubrey is holding in her hand.

“I found your toys,” Aubrey hisses.

Beca is exhausted and not completely functioning at a hundred percent capacity, which is how she later rationalizes her next words. “What toys? We don’t have children.”

It’s meant to be a joke, but her joke tapers off into a choked sound the moment she sees what’s actually in Aubrey’s hand.

Aubrey is holding their very purple, very distinct dildo.

Scratch that. Scratch everything.

Beca wants to sink into the floor and never return. She wonders if it’s too much to hope that she hit her head hard enough earlier and she’s already dead.

“No. Your toys,” Aubrey responds.

“What are you doing?” Chloe asks in confusion. “Why do you have that?”

“This is yours,” Aubrey says, her voice a higher pitch than usual.

“I know it’s mine,” Chloe says calmly, like she’s talking about a coffee machine and not one of their sex toys. “Why do you have it?”

“What the fuck? Why are you so calm?” Beca asks, once she finds her voice.

“Why was it in the kitchenware box?” Aubrey demands.

Amy is surprisingly silent, but when Beca’s eyes swivel to her, she notes that Amy is watching with rapt attention. Fantastic.

Chloe’s eyes widen in recognition and just when Beca thinks it couldn’t get worse, Chloe’s parents walk into the kitchen, looking concerned.

Of course, Aubrey’s shriek of doom was what brought Chloe’s parents rushing back into the kitchen. Beca watches this all happen in slow-motion. Aubrey is gesturing wildly with their obnoxiously purple dildo. Beca half expects her to pull out their harness too, but she figures Chloe probably packed that with their toiletries, because why not?

Her life is over anyway.

“We heard screaming. Is everybody…” Chloe’s mother trails off at the sight.

Beca’s sure that this must look amusing as hell – four women in the kitchen while one wields a purple dildo in some kind of fucked up face-off. She’d laugh if she weren’t the owner of said dildo.

“Is everybody okay?” Sandra asks hesitantly.

Chloe reacts first, finally a hint of a blush shining on her cheeks. It’s nothing compared to the fire Beca feels in her own face though. “It’s fine. I just forgot I put this in here.”

“Why the fuck would you put it with our kitchenware?”

“Because I thought it’d be us unpacking it!” Chloe responds, as if it’s the most natural response. “I forgot.”

“That’s not an explanation!”

Aubrey still looks nauseous, but seems to have realized that her audience is now two people larger. “Oh. Well, this is aw-”

“Don’t even say it,” Beca mutters. “I swear to God, Aubrey.”

Chloe doesn’t even look horrified. Just mildly embarrassed. Beca envies her. “I thought it might be…obvious if we put it with our bedroom stuff.” She rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry, it’s clean.”

Beca thinks that’s the least of their concerns at the moment.

“So, do you wear it…or,” Amy directs at Beca. “Is it mainly Chloe?”

Beca’s brain plays cruel jokes on her regularly, so she chooses that moment to look up and directly at Chloe’s father.

An apology dies on her lips.

She can never face Chloe’s parents again.

Later - much later once Beca has recovered, she looks up from the last of the kitchen boxes. She sees Chloe and Aubrey standing on the balcony. Wandering closer, she can kind of hear their conversation.

"The loft is going to feel different without you,” Aubrey admits, looking down at her shoes.

“I know,” is Chloe’s murmured response. “I love you, Bree. Thank you for everything. And uh, not just today. Just. Everything.”

Beca’s heart clenches at the wistfulness in Chloe’s voice, knowing how comfortable and settled in Chloe had been, living with Aubrey.

Aubrey had been such a good support pillar – a rock for Chloe to lean on. Beca understands the pain of having to separate from somebody so important after so long.

Still, Beca is so excited about everything. She knows the transitional stage for Chloe will be difficult. Aubrey has been her best friend through it all – she was there for Chloe when Beca couldn’t be. She watches Chloe squeeze Aubrey into a hug, thankful that her girlfriend has such a good support network in her life.

She’s reminded then that this is important – this step with Chloe. She loves Chloe with everything in her and she can’t wait for the rest of their lives together.

She doesn’t want it to ever slip away from her again.

She’s going to be the one who’s there for Chloe now. This is it.

“We should finish up,” Amy says from behind her. Beca startles and turns from the balcony. She smiles slyly. “I’m sure you’ll want to uh, break in the apartment tonight, but your bed is still in the box.”

Amy’s right, but Beca’s not going to justify that with a response. Not after everything.

fin / fic tag

#bechloe #my fanfic #text #mine #pitch perfect #beca mitchell #chloe beale #aubrey posen #fat amy #Anonymous #ask #fic prompt

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nonbinaryresource · 6 years

Note

pls forgive me if i mistakenly word something incorrectly/use the wrong term bc i’m still learning, but i’m questioning if i’m nb and i need some help.. i’ve never really felt like a girl, but i’m definitely not a boy either. i’m biologically female and i use she/her pronouns and don’t really want to change that and i also present myself somewhat femininely thru my style. is nb the correct term for me? or is there maybe another term that would fit me better?

Hi, there!

Since you’re new, I’d like to talk about terminology a little bit. This isn’t to scold you, just to share more perspective!

So “biologically female” can be useful for some people and if someone prefers to use that for themself, that should absolutely be respected. But it isn’t a term that should just be applied generally to everyone! I am nonbinary, therefore I am biologically nonbinary. There’s a lot of misguided effort in saying “biologically [gender]”, especially when it’s by cis folk and/or being applied as a blanket statement to all trans/nb people. Basically, unless someone is personally using it for themself, I consider it a sneaky way of misgendering trans people. It comes from the idea of the “sex =/=gender” split, which is supposed to help people new to the trans identity understand what trans means more easily.

Trans simply means ‘does not identify only and wholly as the gender they were assigned at birth’ (whereas cis means ‘identifying only and wholly as the gender they were assigned at birth’). Because the way we assign gender is... pretty simple and subjective. Doctors take a look at a baby’s outer reproductive genitalia, assign a gender based on that, and call it a day. Only it gets even more complicated when you include intersex people in the conversation. Intersex is a broad category we use for people with variations in their sexual anatomy that don’t match up with the binary anatomies of either external or internal genitalia and what typically goes along with each of those. These conditions can be anything from an extra chromosome to ambiguous physical genitalia to more. A lot of intersex conditions aren’t even visible at birth, so babies like this are marked as they appear to the doctor and may only find out at an older age that they are intersex if/when a health condition pops up. And intersex babies whose condition is visible? ...They are often mutilated: surgically made to appear as if they only have external or internal sexual genitalia. I think this is one of the clearest examples of just how subjective and simplistic the system that we use to assign people gender is, which is why “biologically [gender]” isn’t broadly useful.

Because a long time ago someone decided to take a rather simplistic view of gender and randomly assign people one of two genders based on random criteria, which happened to be visible genitalia. And we used this determination to separate people into two categories of social class and treat them differently because of this. When someone says “male” or “female” or “man” or “woman”, people have the same connotation regardless. So trying to separate sex from gender as two different concepts... well, it isn’t the greatest idea, as that means erasing a meaning/connotation people have for one of those terms and redefining it. It is much easier - and more accurate - to instead expand our understanding. As well, a method such as this, where you could understand that I have [x] set of genitalia and [x] set of chromosomes and am nonbinary regardless of all of that would result in much better healthcare because it would actually give doctors relevant information about my body and health, rather than relying on assumptions based on if I check an “M” or “F” box.

So if you find defining yourself as “biologically female” as useful, that’s fine and don’t let me stop you from defining your own experience! I know a few nonbinary people who find the “sex =/= gender” split useful for defining their experience and how they figured out they were nonbinary. But as a general rule, it’s just a description to not use in an umbrella way.

If you already knew that, sorry for being redundant! But since you said you were still learning, I thought it might be useful. ^^

So let’s move more onto your question. I’m just going to repeat it here, since it could have gotten a little lost after my explanation:

i’ve never really felt like a girl, but i’m definitely not a boy either. i’m biologically female and i use she/her pronouns and don’t really want to change that and i also present myself somewhat femininely thru my style. is nb the correct term for me? or is there maybe another term that would fit me better?

So, as noted earlier, trans simply means ‘does not wholly or only identify as the gender you were assigned at birth’. More specifically for nonbinary, we can define this as: ‘not identifying wholly or only as the gender you were assigned at birth AND not identifying only or wholly as man or woman’. Note that this says nothing about your genitalia, pronouns, name, presentation, expression, or anything else superficial. Because all that stuff doesn’t have to define your gender! So you were assigned female at birth, dress femininely, use she/her pronouns, and don’t mind being read as a woman? You can totally still be nonbinary! There is no bar or test that you have to pass for your identity to be valid! All you have to do is identify as nonbinary!

As you have touched on in your ask, gender really comes down to how you feel. There’s two posts I want to suggest here where a couple other people go over what gender “is”. They’re good reads and when trying to figure out what the heck gender feels like, it’s always good to be able to get multiple perspectives to see if you can find one that’s helpful for you! They are “What is Gender? What Does it Feel Like?” by askanonbinary and “Gender is Art” by wedontcareaboutyourbinary. I’m not great at explaining open and subjective concepts like this, but for me, gender is an innate feeling of who you are. It’s a connection you make, either (or multiply) with a label(s), others, and/or yourself. It is something internal that can have external influences and expressions.

So when you say “i’ve never really felt like a girl, but i’m definitely not a boy either.” - this sounds like your gender!!! And, as we saw defined above, you don’t feel wholly and only like a girl or a boy, so it sounds like you do fall under the label of nonbinary!

That being said, I want to touch on “is nb the correct term for me?” and the answer is... that’s totally up to you! I really like how I saw nbandproud put it: “Gender is Not A Diagnosis”. There is no formula for determining your identity (although I know many of us would find it easier if there were!). You can’t just check off a list of feelings, expression, etc., and get a simple output that defines who you are. We describe our gender with a label, and labels are, first and foremost, for ourself. They are to help us describe how we feel and communicate this to others. And there is absolutely an important part of this that has to do with human emotion and connection. Two people could potentially have the same exact gender feels, yet could decide to use two separate labels for how they feel because that’s the term they connected with and decided to use. And neither of them would be wrong for doing so! That would be like me calling someone beautiful and another person arguing with me that the someone is actually gorgeous. We are using two words with similar meaning but used the word we felt at the time. Neither of us are wrong that ‘someone’ is beautiful or gorgeous. We simply used different words for it.

So only you can decide if nonbinary is the correct term for you. Often, the best way to decide this is to use the label for yourself for a while! How long that while is can be up to you. It’s fine if a while is months or years long!!! It took me a matter of several years to fall in love with the term nonbinary - and even longer to fall harder in love with genderqueer. I simply wasn’t sure and struggled with accepting myself for that time, but in the end, those are the labels I’ve landed on (at least for now - it can always change in the future). Using the term doesn’t mean you have to come out, either. You can just use it privately. Think of yourself in regards to being nonbinary. Draw nonbinary people. Write nonbinary characters. See if the label fits you or if there’s always a disconnect with it. Experiment and decide if nonbinary is the correct term for you!

As perhaps implied above with my own identity, nonbinary doesn’t have to be the only correct term for you if that’s how you feel. You can use as many or as few labels as you want. You can use nonbinary as a specific and/or general term. You can use as specific or as general a term as you want - you can use a general term and an ultra specific one. It’s your identity: whatever you feel fits is the correct term for you!

I can suggest some more terms if you’re interested in hearing more, but there are a whoooooole lot of identities that could generally be described as “neither girl nor boy”. One of the more well-known terms I can throw based on this out would be agender: lack of a gender. If you are interested, I would suggest just flipping through some glossaries. Here are a few of my suggestions:

http://genderfluidsupport.tumblr.com/genderhttp://gender.wikia.com/wiki/Category:Gender_Identitieshttps://nonbinary.wiki/wiki/Main_Page

Then, of course, there’s whole lexicon blogs meant to help spread and share and celebrate terms that people are coming up with everyday. Blogs like @genderlist, @beyond-mogai-pride-flags, and @imoga-pride.

I will warn you that these blogs can be overwhelming, especially if you’re desperate for that One Perfect Term(TM). They’re a lot to go through because there’s a lot of different ways people can feel and feel about their gender! If you find them overwhelming, take a break! You don’t have to have that One Perfect Term(TM). I don’t! And I am finally comfortable in the fact that I simply don’t understand my gender enough nor am I able to so specifically pin it down that it can be described with a term and simple definition. So if you get overwhelmed, take a break, give yourself some self-care, and go back to reading later. Questioning can takes years, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

Now... have a kitten for getting through all that text! And feel free to ask as many questions as you need!

[gif of a tiny white kitten getting its paw gently squeezed by someone with long, painted nails. the kitten places its other paw on the finger, sandwiching them in a teeny hug, laying its head down, and closing its eyes in complete peace]

~Tera

#mod tera #long post #questioning #identity #labels #terminology #biologically gender #sex and gender #Anonymous

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nogoodmox · 6 years

Text

since it’s late n u guys have been so encouraging

i wanna preface this by saying....im not a Writer and this is pretty much the first wrestling-related thing i’ve ever written. also this was written at 3 am yesterday so pls keep that in mind ALSO it’s not very. romantic bc 1.) im not good with that stuff and 2.) it’s kinda covering the early stages of their relationship so they’re barely even friends yet! (this takes place right before war games!)

that being said thanks for being so nice abt it guys ur all the sweetest and i love u and i’m sorry this isn’t Better but constructive criticism would be appreciated! mwah!

Pete tapped his fist against his jaw in a needless effort to hype himself up.

The guaranteed brutality of his upcoming match didn’t faze him—brutality was his specialty, after all— but despite that, he couldn’t shake off an uncomfortable feeling.

Maybe it was the thought of having to rely on others for his victory, or maybe it was the thought of them relying on him. Neither were things that he was exactly used to.

He wondered, when the time came, if he would put himself in harm’s way for the sake of the others.

Pete thought of the last time he had relied on someone. It was ironic in a way, how the same person he had tentatively began to trust would be one of his opponents tonight.

He had never really thought of Roderick as a friend, just a sort of unavoidable ally. His eagerness had been irritating as was his general disposition, but Pete had chosen to put his trust in him. A choice he’d come to regret.

He liked to believe that the betrayal had made him all the more dangerous now. Not only could he use his desire for vengeance to his advantage, he’d also be sure not to make a mistake like that again.

Pete had operated just fine on his own for as long as he could remember. There were a select few times where he’d tried opening up, and each time he paid for it. It took a few experiences for the lesson to be drilled into his brain, but at least now there was no way he could forget it.

He should stick with what he knew best, and what he knew best was solitude.

Keep interactions short and bitter. You look out for one person, and that person is yourself. Everyone else is simply an obstacle or dead weight.

It was a philosophy he lived by, and one he truly believed in. There just happened to be times where he’d let it slip and thought maybe, just maybe, someone could be an exception. But they never were.

A steady knock on the locker room door disrupted his thoughts. A faint feeling of pain registered in Pete’s jaw as he realized he’d been tapping his fist against it this whole time. Before he could say anything, the door opened and Ricochet’s head popped in.

“You got a minute?”

Pete didn’t answer, he just raised an eyebrow when he noticed something in Ricochet’s hands. It looked like a tube of toothpaste.

Ricochet followed his gaze and held up the object, wiggling it in his hand. “Oh, this? Yeah, it’s kinda why I’m here, actually.” He walked up to Pete and held it out to him. Pete read the label, which only confused him more.

“White….face paint?”

The other man adjusted his North American Championship on his shoulder. “Yeah. Y’know, war paint for tonight. It was Hanson and Rowe’s idea. They figured we should at least look like a cohesive unit.”

“What’s the point of that?” Pete deadpanned. “Face paint won’t get us a win against Undisputed Era.”

Ricochet looked at a loss for a second, then sighed. “C’mon man. It’s to pump you up, get you excited to kick some ass. Plus it’ll look cool, yeah?”

Pete wasn’t very convinced, but he wasn’t in the mood to argue. He did admittedly like the idea of amping up the intimidation factor, not that he was going to tell Ricochet that. “Fine. Might as well fool people into thinking we’re a real team.”

“S’that supposed to mean? We’re a real team. Cole and his cronies are gonna see just how real we are tonight.” Ricochet declared, giving Pete a few taps on the chest.

Pete stiffened at the contact and glared at the highflier. Ricochet was someone who currently fell under the obstacle category in Pete’s eyes. He hadn’t forgotten the match where both their titles had been on the line. They never received closure, and Pete intended to change that next time they crossed paths in the ring.

He’d prefer for Ricochet to stay an obstacle rather than become dead weight.

“I’ve said it before, you’re just a guy carrying a piece of gold that I want. As for the other two, they’ve already got each other. We may be on the same side, but we’re not a team.”

The grin on Ricochet’s face weakened a bit. “Man do you like, practice this stuff in a mirror before you talk to anyone?” He chuckled at his own joke—was it a joke? The weight of Pete’s words didn’t seem to mean much to him, however, as he quickly bounced back. “Anyway, face paint, yes or no?”

“Sure.” Pete said.

“Great.” Ricochet tossed the tube of paint to Pete. “Doll me up.”

Pete barely caught the tube in time. He whipped his head up to face Ricochet, trying to make sure he had heard him correctly. “What?”

Ricochet had placed his title on the bench next to him and met Pete’s gaze expectantly. “What? I can’t put it on myself. There’s no mirror in here.”

“Then find one.”

“No can do.” He almost looked smug, as if he had planned this. “Bathroom’s closed for repairs, apparently Kyle and Bobby thought it’d be fun to flush Sullivan’s gear down the toilet. He caught ‘em in the act.” Ricochet let out a whistle. “It wasn’t pretty.”

Pete didn’t want to hear any more. For whatever reason, Ricochet was intent on sporting war paint, he might as well indulge him. After tonight, he could set his sights on what really mattered.

“Alright. C’mere.” Pete placed his championship on the bench opposite of Ricochet’s and squeezed some paint onto his fingers.

He lifted his hand only to pause suddenly, leaving it hovering in front of Ricochet’s face. “What’s their paint look like anyways?”

Ricochet thought for a moment. “It’s like…a V shape on each cheek.” He explained, tracing the motion over Pete’s cheeks with his finger. “Simple enough.”

“Right.” Pete grunted, doing everything he could to ignore the way his face had heated up. He pressed his fingers to Ricochet’s face and began painting the design, trying his best to keep his hand steady.

Pete came to a halt when Ricochet started giggling quietly. He gave him a strange look, pulling his hand away.

The other man took a moment to compose himself, then cleared his throat. “Tickles.” Came the simple explanation. Pete rolled his eyes and continued with his work, retracing the lines to smooth out the jagged edges.

He paused again to add more paint to his fingers, avoiding Ricochet’s gaze. Pete could feel the man looking at him and unconsciously tossed his head a bit to let his hair cover his face.

As Pete started on the other cheek, he noticed Ricochet hadn’t stopped staring at him at him, almost amusingly.

“What?” Pete finally asked, with a hint of challenge.

Ricochet seemed unbothered. “You’re just a lot more careful than I thought you’d be” He said, a little quieter than usual. It was unclear if the remark was meant to be teasing. It seemed sincere enough, but even if it was Pete wasn’t sure what the implications were.

Pete said nothing and averted his eyes again, finishing with a final swipe. “There.” He muttered. “All done.”

“Great! I’ll just have to trust that it looks good.” Ricochet reached up to touch his freshly painted face, then decided against it. “Alright, your turn!”

Pete froze, he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

He wasn’t particularly keen on anyone paying close attention to his face.

It was bumpy and weird; he knew this. Acne scars and uneven stubble were just the beginning of it. It was something he’d learned to accept, but he wasn’t exactly dying for others to get a good look at it.

Regardless, he knew Ricochet wouldn’t take no for an answer. If he had, Pete wouldn’t have just spent the past few minutes spreading paint on his face in uncomfortable silence.

Ricochet took the paint tube from Pete’s hands. “You mind uh…” He made a hair flip motion. “Getting that out of the way?”

Pete looked down at his hands, covered in white paint, and decided to go with option two. He swung his head to the side—a little too forcefully—and flipped the blond mess back. He was satisfied for a moment before it came toppling back down in his face.

It was times like this where he seriously reconsidered growing out his hair.

“I gotchu.” Ricochet intervened, looking even more amused than before. He tucked Pete’s hair behind his ear to keep it from coming loose again. “Sure got a lot of hair homeboy.” He commented.

“Guess you can’t relate.” Pete replied bluntly.

Ricochet laughed out loud at that, almost too eager to make fun of himself. “Guess not.” He emptied what was left of the paint into his hand and got to work. Pete winced at the cold feeling, trying not to pull away. “But you know,” Ricochet continued. “The lack of hair could be the secret to my speed.”

Pete wasn’t fully sure if he was joking. “I reckon that’s why you got pieces missing in your eyebrows too?”

The highflier laughed again, this time not as loud, but a huge smile graced his face. “Man, you’re alright.”

Ricochet spread the paint on Pete’s cheeks with ease, moving just as smoothly as he did in the ring. Pete fought with everything he had to try not to break out into a fit of laughter. Ricochet was right, the feeling made him ticklish. His lip curved upward in a smile that he quickly pushed away.

“All set.” Ricochet finally announced, looking proud of his work. Pete didn’t doubt that the man had probably done a better job than him. “Now we look like a force to be reckoned with.”

Pete held couldn’t help but soften his expression a bit. He felt cool, and far more relaxed than earlier. Once again, he wasn’t going to tell Ricochet that, but he appreciated the feeling. “If painting faces keeps you from screwing up tonight, then so be it.” He replied with a shrug.

Ricochet shook his head, and if Pete didn’t know any better he’d say he was annoyed. “You never quit do you? Y’know we can do this whole rivalry thing without all the little remarks, yeah?”

“Cause make no mistake,” Ricochet’s tone grew serious. “I’m just as focused on that title of yours as you are on mine.”

The sudden change surprised Pete, but it didn’t faze him. After all, this was why he kept up his guard so high. He knew behind every person there was a set of intentions, and each interaction with him was a means of achieving them.

“I’m well aware.” Pete said evenly. “S’why I’m not buying this partner ruse. We’re not friends, and we never will be.”

Ricochet paused for a moment. “Just ‘cause you’re a future opponent, doesn’t mean we can’t be on the same page now. It’s no ruse, I’ve got your back tonight. I mean that.”

“Better to have your own back first.”

Ricochet lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck, looking unsure of where to go from there.

“You’re a tough nut to crack.” He said finally, leaning down to grab his North American championship. When he came back up, he was smiling again. “But I’m willing to prove where my loyalties lie out there. There’s no hiding in the ring.”

Pete eyed him for a moment, then nodded briskly. “That’s one thing we can agree on.”

“I’ve got another. We both wanna beat the hell out of those undisputed assholes, right?” Ricochet offered. “That snake Roddy’s gonna be out there tonight. If you ask me, you should focus on giving him the ass whopping he’s had coming instead of making enemies out of your partners.”

An odd silence followed his words. Pete didn’t know how to respond, and Ricochet’s intense gaze wasn’t making it any easier. In his heart Pete knew he had a point.

He was more than willing to take on all four members of the Undisputed Era himself, but he knew realistically he wouldn’t come out victorious. He needed Ricochet and the War Raiders whether he liked it or not.

Just one night couldn’t be so bad, right? Even if it involved putting his faith in other people. Ricochet had nothing to gain from betraying him. Hanson and Rowe, he wasn’t so sure, but considering how fixated they had been on the Undisputed Era for the past several weeks, it was unlikely.

Ricochet saved Pete from having to muster up an answer by reaching over and picking up his United Kingdom Championship. Pete’s eyes widened and he tensed up, ready to snatch it out of his hands.

There was no need to, however, as Ricochet placed it snugly on Pete’s shoulder.

He gave it a few pats, admiring the intricate design on the belt for several moments.

Ricochet took a few steps back, his own title sitting around his waist. “You look good.” He said finally. “Let’s do work tonight, mate.”

Pete’s partner tossed the now empty paint tube in his hand once, then turned to saunter off.

“Not your mate.” Pete replied in a half-hearted protest. He couldn’t see Ricochet’s face as he left the room, but Pete knew he was smiling.

“By the way, the bathroom’s perfectly fine. Just figured we could use a team bonding exercise.”

#heh #there u go #like i said not very romantic #but idk ihope u enjoy! thanks for being so nice guys <3333333 #mine #ig #writing for wrestlers like pete or dean is really really hard #cuz i love them so much im afraid im gonna mess them up

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rreader · 7 years

Note

hello! can I️ request a harry x reader where reader is a Slytherin prefect who catches harry after hours during her rounds. at first she’s stern but realizes that she might be scaring him a bit too much so she starts joking with him and he gets a bit of a crush on her. he doesn’t really know who she is so he’s asking about her and looking for her the next morning and he realizes that she’s the Slytherin princess and Malfoys best friend and hp is like o shit and tries to distance himself but P1/2

cont.but the reader joins DA and hp is really awkward around her. after hp teaches one day reader stays after class because hp was extra awkward she confronts him, they reconcile and confess feelings and fluff, so they have a secret relationship bc they’re afraid of what their friends might think but one day during dinner hp and Draco’s fighting gets too much and she tries to stop it and Draco is like who’s side are you on and you can choose the ending p2/2

Title: Vincit veritasPairing: Harry Potter x Slytherin!Reader ; Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader (mostly brotp)Fandom: Harry PotterWarnings: …sorry about the ending, I guess? (don’t worry, there’ll be a part 2!)

Summary: It was when he first saw you smile that he knew you were the one. But you were a Slytherin and Harry was a Gryffindor. It was like Romeo and Julia.. let’s just hope this story will have a happier ending.. or will it have the same?

A/N: ooooh, would you look at that. another harry request. I couldn’t help myself, this one was just such a cool request, I had to write it. I always loved the whole ‘reader is having to choose between draco and harry’ trope. (+ I’ve decided to give the stories that’ll be more than one part a title, just because I think it’ll be a bit nicer. for those who care, the title means: ‘Truth conquers’)

*****

Harrystared at the Marauder’s map in his hands, tracing Draco’s steps.

Heprobably shouldn’t be doing this every time the Slytherin left his room, butHarry couldn’t help it. He had this.. feeling. This feeling, thatsomething really bad was about to happen, mainly, because his scarhad been causing him pain for quite some time now and it didn’t seemlike it was about to stop any time soon.

Hiseyes glued to the map and focused on Draco, he did not see that therewas somebody else wandering these corridors so late at night.

Hewas just about to go the other way when you caught him.

“Well,well. What have we here?”

Harry immediately jumped and pointed hiswand at you, “I’d lower your wand if I were you, otherwise I’mgoing to have to shove it up your nose until it hits your brain.”

Hiseyes widened and he quickly hid the map behind his back, doing whatyou said.

“Whoare you?” he asked a second later, but you only pointed towardsyour badge.

Harrygulped.

Notonly were you a prefect, but a Slytherin prefect at that.

“Now..Tell me,” you slowly walked over to him, until you were standingright in front of him, cocking your head to the side, then you walkedaround him like a cat stalking her prey, “Why are you wandering through thecorridors at this time?”

Harry’schest was heaving heavily and he could feel sweat starting to form onhis forehead. Somehow, this felt like an interrogation.

“I..I was.. uhm..-”

“Oh, nevermind, I don’t really care,” you confessed, when you stood in front ofhim again and smiled. “Bet you thought I was evil, because I’m a Slytherin, huh?” you started laughing.

Harrylet out a breath, his jaw dropping slightly, not really knowing whatto say.

Didhe thought you were as mean and probably evil as Malfoy? Absolutely.

“Whateveryou were doing though, you should probably go back to bed. I’m notthe only one who’s patrolling here tonight and the others won’t letyou off so easily.”

“Uhm..yeah, of course!” Harry cleared his throat and nodded, “Thankyou!”

“Don’tworry about it,” you smiled once more, then you walked past him andsoon, disappeared in the shadows of the corridor.

Harrywanted to call after you, ask for your name, but all he could do wasstare into the darkness, a blush sitting on his cheeks.

Someonemight be having a little crush..

thenext morning

“Hermione?”

“Hm?”Her nose was buried in a book as always, sitting comfortably in oneof the armchairs of the common room.

“Doyou know all of the prefects?”

Shelifted her head, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“Ofcourse. Why?”

Harryfidgeted with his hands, a little unsure whether or not he shouldeven bring it up.

Buthe didn’t even know your name.. and he really, really wanted to know.

“Ijust wanted to know who replaced Pansy.. out of pure curiosity, ofcourse.”

Hermionestill eyed him suspiciously, but then she closed her book and crossedher legs.

“(Y/N)(Y/L/N). You might have heard people call her the ‘Slytherinprincess’. Ridiculous, if you ask me.”

“Wait..SHE’S the Slytherin princess? Draco’s best friend? The one who’sparents pretty much own Hogsmeade at this point?”

“That’sthe one. The prince and princess, that’s what they’re all callingthem,” she shuddered and opened her book once more, “Ridiculous,”she whispered once more, before returning her attention back to thebook.

Harryslumped back into the cushions of the couch and let out a deepbreath.

Thefirst girl he liked since Cho and then she’s a Slytherin. And notjust any Slytherin, but the best friend of his nemesis, the one he,just last night, followed around Hogwarts to see what he was up to.And now he had a crush on his best friend.

Probably because of that smile..

Hecouldn’t stop thinking about it..

..buthe had to. There was no way this - whatever this would be - could work.

Threemonths later

Dumbledore’sArmy.

Asecret organization founded to teach fellow students Defence Againstthe Dark Arts.

Andwhen you entered their ‘secret base’ with your girlfriends, you wereinitially surprised to see Harry Potter standing in front of you. Buton second thought.. not really. It just had to be him.

Yousmiled and approached him when no one seemed to care.

“You’rea lot more pale in this light, than the last time I saw you.”

Harrychuckled and fidgeted with his wand.

Hehadn’t talked to you since that night. He saw youfrom time to time and you always smiled at him when your eyes met,but neither of you ever said ‘Hello’ or something like that. Both ofyou kept your distance.

Butit would be awkward to just ignore each other here..

“You’redoing a good thing here. So.. thank you,” you placed your hand onhis upper arm, squeezed once, then joined your girlfriends again.

Harrywas standing there like a statue afterwards.

Howwould he be able to focus, now that you were here?

***

Theanswer to that: not at all.

Hetried his hardest, but was glad that Ron and Hermione were there withhim, otherwise these lessons would not be helpful at all.

Everytime you met for a class, you talked to him. It was just small talkand tiny details about your life. But you felt more comfortablearound him and really enjoyed spending time with him.

Dracohad only ever told you negative things about him.

Butnow that you were getting to know him for yourself, you realized thathe was a good guy.

Hewas kind and fair and he cared a lot about his friends and fellowstudents. Otherwise he wouldn’t be doing this and risking.. whateverit was that he was risking.

Buttoday was weird. He had been trying to teach you this one spell fordays and you finally managed it today. And when you did, you kissedhim on the cheek. Out of reflex. But now that he didn’t look youin the eye no more, you wondered if you had maybe crossed a boundary.

Sowhen the class was over and everyone had left, you walked over tohim.

“Harry?Can we.. talk?”

“Oh..yeah, sure!”

“Ireally hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable earlier. I wasn’ttrying to.. I was only really excited, you know?” you lowered yourhead and looked at the floor, “My parents never wanted me to learnthese kind of things. Said I didn’t need to, since I always hadprotection from various sources throughout my life. But it’s good tofinally be able to protect myself. And all thanks to you,” youraised your head again and smiled.

BeforeHarry had known your name, he had heard horrible things about the’Slytherin princess’. That she was a 'spoiled brat’, 'mean toeveryone who crossed her path’.. but the woman who stood in front ofhim was none of that. The more he got to know you, the more heunderstood that, even though you had grown up in a rich andwell-esteemed family, you did not take anything for granted. Allprejudices were wrong about you.

Andhe was glad that he was able to get an idea of who you are as aperson himself.

“No,you didn’t make me feel uncomfortable, really. I just..”

Youpatiently waited for him to answer, but he never did. He only staredat your lips for so long, until you finally took that one steptowards him and kissed him like you hoped he wanted to.

Andwhen you could feel his hands on your hips, you knew that he did.

***

Theweeks that followed were both beautiful and horrible at the sametime.

Youand Harry had put a label on your relationship. You were nowboyfriend and girlfriend.

However,no one could know.

NotHarry’s friends, who would probably think him as some sort of 'traitor’ forbeing with a Slytherin and certainly not Draco, who’d probably killPotter for being with you.

Sowhile, yes, you were now Harry’s girlfriend and secretly exchangedkisses and spent more time with each other, it just.. wasn’t the same as running aroundholding hands and showing everyone that you were in love. This secrecy.. you hated it.

Butstill, you both knew it was for the better.

Soyou kept it quiet. Didn’t let anyone even consider a possibility of arelationship between you two.

Itwas only when Draco bullied Harry once again during lunch – when noteachers were around, because he’d never have the guts to do it infront of them – that you got up and stood in front of Draco whenHarry approached him.

“Couldyou two PLEASE just stop it already! I’m so sick of this, Draco.Don’t you have better things to do?”

Fora minute it was quiet all around you.

Neverhad you talked to Draco like that before.

Andhe seemed to be as surprised as everyone else.

“Whyare you on his side?”

“I’mnot..,” you turned around to face Harry who tried his hardest notto look hurt, so you quickly corrected yourself, “I mean..I..-ugh!”

Therewas Harry on the one side, the first guy you ever fell in love withand hoped to spend the next years with. Kind, intelligent, caring.

Thenthere was Draco, your best friend since childhood. Misunderstood guy,who only tried to do what his parents expected of him.

Youloved them both..

..butwho will you choose?

#lupinlys #harry potter x reader #harry x reader #harry potter imagine #harry imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagine #hp imagine #harry potter #hp #draco malfoy #reader #requests

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twopoppies · 7 years

Note

idk how people can compare niall and harry's promotion to say niall isn't relatable enough when harry isn't saying anything at all, actually. not even his own fans can relate to him anymore or find him approachable. they've managed to hook harry up with the biggest ad spaces only to sell a contrived and disingenuous product that lowered lls's ratings and has failed to add a significant heartbeat to his sinking sales. pardon me for finding the niall/harry comparison laughable.

I’m going to assume that you’re referring to Emmie’s post about Niall’s promo that I reblogged? Although I’m not sure because her post had nothing to do with comparing his promo to Harry’s except this one sentence:

“People were amazed (positively) that he was barely asked who Slow Hands was about while Harry was asked constantly about the inspiration behind all his songs”

She mentions Harry (and the other guys) a couple of times and compares Harry & Niall at the end of her post when she says that neither one of them released their singles without part of the purpose being to want it to be successful.

Pls, don’t tell me that ‘he doesn’t care about charts and numbers’ because he wants you to believe that but that’s just… not true. All artists do, to some degree. If anyone tells you that Harry released SotT and didn’t care at all about it and he just wanted to be a True ArtistTM they’re also lying to you. Even if it’s not their actual motivation (and I do believe that it’s not in Niall and Harry’s cases), it’s still important to them because they know it’s what will keep them afloat, and it’s definitely important for their labels, especially if they only have a distribution deal.

I’m not seeing anywhere that she said anything about Harry being “relatable” in comparison to Niall or anyone else. So, either I’m missing something in her post, or you’re not referring to it Because if you were, maybe you would point out where she compared them and offer some rebuttal. So perhaps you’re someone who hates Harry’s perceived image and his team’s promo campaign. Thus, it seems as though the point of your ask is actually to vent the anger you have towards Harry and to list as many things about his solo launch that you deem failures or disingenuous or laughable.

Pardon me for finding that something I don’t agree with at all. I don’t think everything has been handled perfectly. There are aspects I wish had been done differently. But I think the bigger issue is the extreme entitlement of this fandom when it comes to these men - and especially when it comes to Harry. 1D was built on extreme access to fans. We got almost 24/7 access to them and knew everything about them. Harry himself said that he doesn’t like that and that he’s “clawing back” some privacy. Why his supposed fans begrudge that and twist that into him being ungrateful and not relatable and a failure is very confusing to me.

I’m super proud of all four of them. I’m super frustrated for all four of them. All four of them deserve the world. And all four of them are still stuck (to varying degrees) with incompetent people around them. But I don’t understand why fans of the band, which is made up of four men who love each other, have decided that now that they’re going solo that there needs to be 4 separate fandoms with each one criticizing the other three. Niall’s success (or failure) is not a direct competition or in direct relation to Harry’s. And that goes for all the boys. If you love Niall’s promo, that’s awesome. Go hard! If you think it could be handled better, talk about it. But why make it a competition? There’s literally no reason.

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fucknobadtf2fanfiction · 7 years

Text

Meet the Apprentice chapters 1 - 2 (request)

As it happens, sometimes I get a random request from someone and if I have the time I'd be more than happy to help. Keep in mind for those who like pictures, I won’t be using reaction images because the hard drive with the hundreds of images has been lost.

Keep in mind not a revival but a small visit from the aunt everyone hates, nice to be back for even a moment. This is a reboot to a story someone submitted to me.

-mod m

Meet the Apprentice

Summary:

As the engine’s roar died, the driver’s door swung open and a woman stepped out. She raised one of her hands to shield her face from the sun, squinting up at the building. She shouldered a brown leather backpack and self-consciously straightened her pleated yellow dress. Taking a deep breath, she started across the parking lot towards the entrance, shifting the bridge of her glasses as she went.

(I'm bad at summaries and I don't want to spoil stuff but also I'm still working out the plot so I'm basically making this up as I go sorry!

It's kind of good that much I can tell you.)

Have confidence in yourself! People want to read a story with confidence, there’s no reason to apologize or let the audience know you’re just as clueless

Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated, and if you have any questions, ask away! Have a good day! :)

Chapter 1

The sun sat high in the sky of New Mexico, glaring down on the drab orange landscape and forming shimmering heat waves on the dusty ground. Among the desert scene sat a large facility, a light gray building that had large air conditioners running all along its roof. Around it was a tall chain link fence that had large KEEP OUT signs bolted to it at intervals. As if the locals didn’t know enough to stay away.

The only openings in the fence were two narrow gaps, one along each short end of the rectangular compound, wide enough for your average pickup truck to fit through. Through each gap was a parking lot, and a metal sliding door entrance to the building. A multi-colored line ran horizontally along the outer walls, half of it red, the other blue. On the blue half, a slightly rusting 1959 Pontiac Bonneville made its way into the lot, pulling into one of the lopsided parking spaces. As the engine’s roar died, the driver’s door swung open and a woman stepped out. She raised one of her hands to shield her face from the sun, squinting up at the building. She shouldered a brown leather backpack and self-consciously straightened her pleated yellow dress. Taking a deep breath, she started across the parking lot towards the entrance, shifting the bridge of her glasses as she went.

A dress for battle maybe not so but a dress for heat and a simple outfit for simply arriving makes sense. ( pls don’t have her fight in a dress author I have high hopes )

Dust swirled around her ankles, and a warm breeze toyed with her pigtails as she walked up to the metal sliding door. Raising one pale, calloused hand, palm reddened by the heat, she knocked; a reverberating clang cut through the tranquil desert. As she waited for someone to answer, she examined the logo on the door. The door itself was painted blue, gray peeking out where the paint had peeled off the corrugated metal. A large white wrench had been stylistically painted on it, the lower half of the tool made up of the acronym “BLU”. The top half of a bolt was held between the teeth of the wrench, and in the middle of the bolt was a yellow and blue globe. Beneath all of this, in block letters, were the words “BUILDERS LEAGUE UNITED”.

Humming to herself, she wondered what she’d look like in an all blue uniform.

Suddenly, the door began to slide upwards, making a rattling noise that she could only associate with ball bearings, and she shook herself from her thoughts. In the doorway, illuminated by bright fluorescent lights, was a short, stocky man wearing overalls and a yellow hard hat. Around his neck was a pair of what appeared to be some form of welding goggles. His brown eyes were small and deeply set, and the skin around them was rather paler than the rest of his face, but nonetheless they shone brightly and had a warmth to them. The man that the kind eyes belonged to smiled at her brightly.

To be fair engineer's eyes are blue but that’s hardly something to get upset about

“Well, howdy there. My name is…well, we ain’t supposed to share our birth names, just our class names and any nicknames that come besides, but for simplicity’s sake let’s just call ‘em our names. Might as well be, I reckon, since we been using ‘em for so long. But as I was sayin’, th’name’s Engineer. If that’s too long for your fancy, you can call me Engie.”

it’s a thick accent but acceptable. It’s readable. Kudos

The woman nodded; she’d been informed of the “no-names” rule when she had been registered by Miss Pauling. The secretary had claimed that it was for “security’s” sake, but she assumed it was to stifle as many bonding opportunities as possible.

The man had extended a hand, so she shook it. His grip was firm

“My name is Sa-…sorry, I mean, Apprentice.” She replied sheepishly.

Engie just grinned at her. “That’s alright, it takes a bit to get used to it. Now come on in, it’s just about suppertime. Normally th’whole team don’t all sit in the rec room to eat, but since we’ve got a new recruit Miss Pauling had... suggested we use the time to get introduced, to save time later.”

Read: threatened. For some of them, at least.

But Apprentice nodded as she was led into the building. She sighed as a blast of cool air hit her. Engie led her down a long, gray hallway. There were doors leading off of it, all marked with signs. One read “BUNKS”, and a few others, “BATHROOMS”. Another large sliding door sat on the right, with a sign above it that read “RESPAWN”. She shuddered as she remembered the RESPAWN chip she still needed to have implanted.

Respawn chips give me so many memories of years ago when everyone played around with respawn ideas….. Even I have a fanfiction out that focuses the start of the respawn and before….

Engie pointed at the RESPAWN door. “Through there’d be your ammo lockers n’such, and then there’s another door in there leadin’ to the battlements. We’ll go over this tomorrow when y’all’re given the tour. We get Sundays off, o’course, and when we move to the next compound we get the whole weekend to get settled.”

Apprentice nodded again. She wasn’t much of a talker. The same could not be said for Engie, however, who was talking quite a bit, and the more he talked, the thicker his Texan accent grew. Most of it was just bits of random trivia about the facility and offhand comments about its name (“Ya ain’t gonna wonder why it’s called ‘Turbine’ once ya see the battlements, that’s for sure!”) and the team (“Y’all might think I’M talking much, but you just wait’ll you meet Scout! That boy could outtalk a lil yappin’ dog, I’ll tell ya that”).

Don't insult my baby!! He’s perf!!

He led her through a small kitchen (the sink was piled with dishes; covering the pile was a towel, and on it was a piece of paper, on it scrawled hasty note: Outta site, outta mind, Engie.)

The Texan snorted at this and muttered, “Darn it, Scout.”

He rolled his eyes at Apprentice. “That boy hates doin’ his share of the chores, ‘specially the dishes. And he can’t spell worth a darn, neither.”

I was trying to defend scouts education level but the only thing I could find was the track terrorizer and it was when he snuck into a high school track team at 23 hahaha [x]

Apprentice smiled at that and followed Engie through the kitchen doorway, into a room that was the dining room and rec room, according to the sign above it. She frowned a bit when she saw the sign; was everything here labelled?

There were eight men sitting in various places around the rec room, absorbed in their own activities. None of them noticed her walking in. Engie leaned towards her.

“I’m gonna go get the grub, now go’n get yourself settled.” He headed back into the kitchen.

Apprentice took a deep breath and walked forwards. She hated meeting new people, and always felt that they were judging her, that they thought she was weird. But as she got closer, she realized that she was probably one of the most normal ones there. One of them, a light-skinned man in a baggy fireproof suit, sat on the floor, criss-cross style, in front of a couch. He was shifting back and forth, a deceptively childish grin on his face, as he clicked a lighter on and off. His eyes shone bright with the reflection of the flame, but there was a fire to them that definitely wasn’t a reflection. She decided to steer clear of him for now, and looked around for a safer person to sit near. Unfortunately, none of the other options seemed to be very good.

I don’t like the whole showing pyro’s face thing, and if he had the mask on it would be impossible to see his eyes or skin. This is personal preference to me though, you do you, author.

On one of the three lumpy couches in the room sat a lanky man with thinning brown hair. A pair of yellow shooting glasses were pushed up onto his forehead, and he was sitting on far end of the couch closest to the wall. He was drinking coffee and reading Catch-22. He appeared calm, but the way his eyes were darting around the room and the way he seemed to be trying to collapse in on himself suggested that he wasn’t used to being around the rest of the team after matches.

Catch 22 came out in 1961 so that puts this storyline closer to the gravel war. The setting is important folks, +1 point for doing your research author. [x]

A bottle flew past her head, drawing her attention to the far end of the room, towards the dining table. Two of her teammates were in, from what she could see, a fight over a…cupcake. One of the men was wearing an overly large army helmet, and the other was a scrawny young man with buckteeth. He had a bloody nose, and the army guy was screaming something about “cupcake communists”. Sitting at the table was a black man wearing an eyepatch, who was laughing at the two so hard that he was punching the table. Also sitting at the table, watching the fight in disgust, was a rather short, skinny man wearing a ski mask and a suit. He was smoking a cigarette daintily.

He looked over at Apprentice, appraising her for a moment, before sniffing and turning back towards the fight (the army guy now had the skinny one in a headlock, which Skinny was valiantly trying to escape).

She glared at him. What was his problem? Rolling her eyes, she moved to the couch in the middle of the room, closest to the television set. Two other men were sitting on it. One of them was wearing round spectacles and reading a thick encyclopedia, titled Gray’s Anatomy. A glance over his shoulder showed her pictures of organs, scientifically labelled. She wrinkled her nose. The spectacled man acknowledged her with a nod, then returned to his book. He turned the page and laughed at something. She scooted a bit farther away from him. The man farthest from her was tall and muscular, with beady blue eyes. He was knitting what appeared to be a pair of gloves. She sat awkwardly on the edge of the couch, waiting for Engie to come back. She raised her arm to check her watch. Five o’ clock, exactly.

this is just as awkward as you can get, man.

A large hand tapped her elbow, and she turned in surprise to the large man at the end of the couch. He leaned across the man with the spectacles, who grimaced at him and leaned back.

“You are new recruit?” He asked. His Russian accent was prominent in those few words.

“Uh, yeah, I am. My name is Apprentice.” She awkwardly extended her hand. He shook it lightly.

“I am Heavy Weapons Guy. I have question for you: do you have woolen stockings?”

She scrunched up her face in confusion. “Umm…yes? It got pretty cold in Nebraska, so I have a couple of pairs. I brought ‘em just in case, but, uh, doesn’t seem like I’ll need ‘em.”

Heavy Weapons Guy simply shrugged. “It will get cold in the nights.”

Apprentice nodded slowly.

“Right, but, uh, wh-why did you want to know?” She tilted her head to the side, squinting at him.

“Wanted to know if Heavy would have to knit you some. I knit them for new people. Knitted them for Doktor”, he pointed to the man with the anatomy book, ”the little rabbit Scout,” he pointed to the boy fighting, who was still in the headlock and slowly turning blue, “and the Demoman.” he motioned to the man with the eyepatch. “But you do not need them, da?”

Apprentice twitched her shoulder. “Nah I guess not, huh?” She smiled at him.

“Pretty nice of ya, Heavy. I can call you that, right?”

Heavy nodded at her, and returned to his knitting. The “Doktor” leaned forwards again. He flipped another page, revealing a very realistic drawing of a transparent human body, with all of the organs, nerves, and skeletal system visible. He turned to Apprentice and grinned in a manic way.

see I hope there is more characterization to medic than just the body obsessed doctor jerk stereotype

“Zis is my favorite part!”

She stared at him for a second, then slowly nodded.

“That-that’s. Nice.”

He nodded his head feverishly, still grinning, still without blinking, then returned to the book. Just as she was wondering if she should maybe switch places, Engie came back into the room, holding a large cast-iron cooking pot. She stood up quickly and moved towards the table.

Finally.

Marking the end of chapter 1. The ONLY issue is the cold attitude of the team seemingly ignoring her. Now, this is all our creative differences, I would think a team would be a bit more attentive.

Still not a flaw, I'm finding no huge issues in the story of any canon characters or your own. ALSO, labeled is spelled like this <<

CHAPTER 2

As Apprentice walked towards the table, the scents of the meal began to waft towards her. Her stomach rumbled fiercely. Engie sat the tall pot onto an oven mitt sitting in the center of the table. He pulled a handkerchief from his overall pocket and wiped his hands, smiling. His face fell, however, when he noticed the cupcake on the table, and the two men fighting over it.

“Soldier! Scout! Quit roughhousin’! And Soldier, stop chokin’ that boy before ya send him to RESPAWN.” Engie barked. The two team members froze in their actions, Soldier dropping the Scout, who was gasping for breath. The Soldier saluted to Engie, crying, “YESSIR!” Engie just shook his head and headed towards the kitchen again.

“Ah’m goin’ to get the cornbread and corn. Demo, y’wanna help get the dishes?” The man with the eyepatch nodded, and stood up with a grunt and went with Engie towards the kitchen. Soldier dropped his hand from the salute position, then glanced at the cupcake that was still on the table. Scout, who was grumbling to himself as he stood up (“Coulda taken him, didn’t need Engie’s frigging help- “) noticed this, and jumped on the Soldier when he lunged for the pastry.

it’s trivial to fight over a cupcake b ut the more I think about it, the more I think... yes.. this does fit their personalities...

“Oh, no you don’t!” Scout yelled. The Soldier once again began to yell back, and the two continued to brawl. They hit the table, almost spilling the chili. After around a minute of this, Apprentice had decided that she’d had enough. She was hungry, in an unfamiliar environment, and all this yelling was giving her a headache. She was not happy, so she retaliated.

Apprentice stalked forwards, closing the gap of around seven feet between herself and her teammates.

“HEY!” She yelled to disorient them. They turned to her, startled, and before either of them could react, she grabbed Scout by the ear and dragged him away from Soldier, pushing aside the army man as she did so.

“Knock it off.” She growled. Scout, knocked her hand away, rubbing his ear. Soldier, on the other hand, looked stunned, then grinned proudly at her.

Scout sneered at her. “Don’t tell me what ta do, you ain’t my ma. Back off!”

Nothing like stopping little twink boy from fighting naked man

In all seriousness, this should mean our character has a fit physique, not being itty bitty tiny. Leme see those girls with muscles, author. It’s hard to be intimidating being small and tiny!

She sneered back at him fiercely. “YOU back off, or I’ll break your back.” Ignoring the Scout’s wounded expression, she grabbed the cupcake from the table and held it up to the two men. “This is what you’re fighting over, right?” She asked. The Scout nodded, and the Soldier yelled, “Affirmative!” Apprentice winced. Didn’t the guy have an inside voice? But she nodded in a way that suggested that she had firmly made up her mind about something. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Engie and Demoman had returned, bearing more food and table settings.

“Well then. You guys can’t fight over something that’s not here, can you?”

Scout and Soldier looked confused. Demoman and Engie were now watching the interactions unfold, Engie with some mild trepidation, Demoman with a grin on his face. Cigarettes had been watching out of the corner of his eyes with interest the whole time, and Catch-22 had gotten up to move to the table, but stood awkwardly near the couch while the scene played out. Heavy and the “Doktor” were still sitting, but began to get up as they noticed the arrival of food.

Scout put his hands on his hips and snorted. “Whaddaya mean, not here? Ya holdin’ it right in front of my friggin’ fa- “

Apprentice stopped him mid-sentence by taking a big bite out of the cupcake, and then subsequently finishing it in two more. The Scout looked hilariously affronted, and Soldier’s jaw dropped. Scout sat heavily in his chair to sulk, but Soldier got right up in her face, yelling.

“HOW DARE YOU EAT THAT CUPCAKE! I AM AN AMERICAN, AND I WILL NOT HAVE MY RIGHT TO CUPCAKES TAKEN BY YOU CUPCAKE COMMUNISTS!”

What I want to know is who baked said cupcakes . . .

Is engie the wife of the team

Spit flew from his mouth, smudging her glasses. She whipped them off, standing on her tip toes to look him directly in the eye (or as much as she could, with how low his helmet was). Her green eyes were wide and dangerously bright as her face reddened with anger.

“How about you get out of my face, you sociopathic sergeant! I’m American too, AND I HAVE THE RIGHT TO EAT THAT CUPCAKE!” She yelled back. She wiped her glasses off on the hem of her dress, shoved them back on her face and continued to glare the man down.

The Soldier, however, responded in a way that took her by surprise. He grinned and saluted her, relaxing his muscles a bit so that he wasn’t standing as stiff as a board.

“Ma’am, you are a true American woman! I salute you! You take this attitude to those cupcake communists and kick it right up their asses!” He then proceeded to fall into a chair.

more kudos for not making him a sexist bitch, author.

Apprentice lowered herself back onto the balls of her feet, anger being replaced with confusion. “Um…. thanks, I guess.”

Gr8 first impression apprentice i mean you’re just great at them lol

She turned to Engie, who simply shrugged at her, chuckling. The rest of the team sat down at the table as Demoman finished passing around dishes, and she could see that they had all found the scene to be hilarious. The only one who didn’t appear visibly amused was Cigarettes, who reluctantly put out the one he was smoking when he caught Engie’s glare. There was still an empty seat, but no one else seemed to notice, so she kept quiet. Once they were all seated, Engie clapped his hands together.

“Alrighty then! Now, firstly we’re gonna- hang on, where’s Pyro?” Engie looked around the room, spying him over on the floor by one of the couches, still flicking the lighter.

pyro being the team child isn’t my fav stereotype but i’ll take it

“Pyro,” he called, catching the attention of the man. “Suppertime.”

The Pyro grinned and jumped up, trotting to the table like a little kid. He took his seat and rested his chin on his hands, his elbows propped up on the edge of the table. He stared off into space, his eyes still open slightly more than normal.

“Now then,” Engie approved, nodding. “First, we’ve got some chili, cornbread, and corn on the cob. Ya don’t like it, don’t eat it, and you can go hungry till it’s your turn to cook. While y’all’re dishin’ yer food out, we’re gonna go ‘round the table clockwise and say our names, just so we all know ‘em. You can start.” He said, motioning towards Apprentice.

“Right. Yeah. Well, I’m Apprentice.”

The rest of the team scrambled for food (and so did she), and continued to divulge their class names.

“Scout, an’ I’m like da coolest- “

“Demoman, who thinks this boyo should quit kissin’ his own arse and let everyone go. An’ you can call me Demo, lass.” Apprentice decided that she liked him. He seemed fun, and had an interesting Scottish accent.

“I AM THE SOLDIER!"

“I am called ze Spy.” Said Cigarettes with a prominent French accent, raised eyebrows. He didn’t seem to be eating much.

“Medic!” She noticed he was still reading his book as he ate.

All i can see is medic exclaiming without moving his facial expression. One hand shoveling food, eyes locked onto a book in the other, screaming medic but not raising any eyebrows

“…...m’theSniper.” A quiet but harsh voice mumbled, coming from the shy man. He sounded…. British? Australian? Australian, she decided. Even though he seemed uncomfortable in his surroundings, he still had a sharp edge to him, something that seemed to say, “I might be nervous but if any of you make fun of me I’ll rip your heart out.” Not an easy thing to convey simply through body language and milliseconds of eye contact, but he was doing an excellent job at it.

sniper is so tsundere

half expecting a b-baka! in there

“Engie, as you know.”

“Pyro!” The man’s voice was rough and deep-throated, but still enthusiastic and almost juvenile. He was making statues out of his cornbread with one hand and twirling his dreadlocks in the other.

“Apprentice already knows Heavy.”

She nodded, and continued with her food, taking in the environment. The rest of the team was either eating in silence, or involved in conversation. The Scout had decided to confront the Soldier about the cupcake, claiming that it was unfair because he was American, too. The Soldier, however, seemed to be mostly ignoring him, choosing instead to “converse” with Demo, in the loosest use of the word. They seemed to be mostly yelling nonsense and laughing. Engie was having a quiet conversation with the Sniper, and the Spy had somehow managed to steal the Sniper’s book, and was currently flipping through it.

“So, uh, I didn’t mean it about earlier, ya know?” The Scout said, grinning at her, revealing his buck teeth. She understood why Heavy had called him a rabbit.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”

He leaned back in his chair, putting one of his arms on the headrest of her chair. “Nah, I was just messin’ around is all! You’re pretty cool, ya know? And dat thing with the cupcake was pretty hilarious, acksually.”

“Actually.” She quietly corrected him.

He tilted his head to the side. “Huh? OH! Yeah, I know, it’s my freakin’ accent, ya know? And den my teeth ain’t helping much, so I gotta kinda speech imped’ment, I guess. But dat’s cool thatchya caught that, you must be pretty smart, huh?”

Giving scout a speech impediment is a pretty interesting thing. I don’t see many stories where scout actually has a speech impediment but I don’t like it when authors dumb down scout like he is a child.

My only advice is don’t make him dumb as a sack of dirt? Scout’s position requires him to be fast and smart about his moves, and he was pretty street smart since he grew up with all of his brothers… I'm sure he didn’t pay much attention in school but the boy has some skills and is smart in other areas in life.

“Yeah, I guess.” She squinted at him. “Sorry to ask, but are you trying to…. flirt with me? Or what is this?”

The Scout removed his arm from her chair and exaggerated a wounded expression. “What, a dude can’t just talk to a girl, huh? Nah, I know, my ma says I come off too strong but mosta the girls I evah talked to were the ones I was looking to date so ya know, that’s just kinda how I am now. But nah, you’re cute, I guess, but I’m holdin’ out for Miss P to start recipercatin’ my, y’now, feelings for her. Cuz she’s a classy lady, and waitin’ for her to change her mind’ll totally impress her!”

Apprentice shook her head, smiling. “If you say so.”

This chapter kind of ended abruptly, I had to check the source to make sure I didn’t forget to copy all of it.

I’d day first chapter was fine and ended on good terms but the second makes me think that there was more to real- maybe go into it more and end off of a cliff hanger and not in the middle of a conversation.

You usually end a chapter in the middle of a convo when person A drops an info bomb or something crucial to the plot, but simple chit chat makes it seem like you stopped writing and simply published without looking back. Either way, the ending is FINE, just my opinion.

If you publish anymore you’ll have to ask me directly to keep going on with a review but for now, this is my opinion for both chapters. Lack of words and comments = I had nothing bad to say. I had to search for ways to butt in so there weren't walls of only the story.

I think you’re on a good track, make sure to not make Apprentice a dainty flower and super small, UNLESS her position and role needs her to be small and nimble. Remember you can always make characters, small and nimble, but with visible muscle. Hope you don’t have her uniform as a dress, keep her hair up out of her face, don’t have characters idly fall in love unless you give it several chapters of development.

I think she’s going in strong leaving with a touch first impression. She’s not meek and it seems she’s not afraid to get her hands dirty. Keep going with this and you’re set. If you need any character development help or brainstorming or etc, feel free to message me. I’m always here, I'll even hand over my personal on request.

Thanks for submitting, hope to hear back on your thoughts.

-Mod M

#tf2 #tf2 fanfiction #mod m #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 fanfiction #thanks for the submit #was a good read #really hope to hear back #this isnt me returning btw #;)

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ohlawsons · 7 years

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vidcalls | 01

[ RE: THE SOUND OF YOUR VOICE IN THE DARK ]

SUMMARY. Business might keep Sophie and Reyes separated after the conclusion of their work on Kadara, but that doesn't mean they can't take time for the occasional message or visit. Or: some f!Ryder/Reyes interactions post-Kadara, because Bioware didn't give us enough in-game. Spoiler warnings will be marked at the beginning of each chapter. NOTES. i still haven't finished the game but after the archon's flagship mission and doing the 3rd/4th parts of the ryder family secrets, i had no choice but to let sophie vent about some plot stuff. mission: ryder family secrets, the fourth unlocked memory also pls note i'm pulling stuff out of my ass for reyes' past bc all bioware gave us is """destroyed records""" with no helpful info LINKS. [ AO3 ] [ FFN ] [ sophie’s tag ]

She didn’t go see Scott like she’d planned, or Captain Dunn, or even Kandros.

When Sophie left SAM Node, she went straight to the Tempest, waving off Suvi’s greeting and Liam’s concern and shut herself in her quarters — lights off, windows closed, with only the soft glow of SAM’s interface to light the room. She cried — a good, hard cry like she hadn’t had in years — until her eyes hurt and her head pounded and her throat was raw.

It hadn’t occurred to her until that morning that she hadn’t ever properly mourned her mother’s death. At the funeral, Sophie had been so furious, so angry with Alec that it consumed her; he’d always treated her mother like a puzzle — especially as the disease worsened — and watching him stare at the casket in disappointment, like his failure was more of a tragedy than her death, had been the last straw for them both. She’d only spoken to Alec in the Milky Way once, after that, and it had been about the Initiative.

But watching it all over again, seeing herself with red-rimmed eyes and tousled hair as she clung to Scott, hearing the exhaustion and grief in both of their voices — it was almost like losing her mother a second time. That hadn’t even been the worst, though; Sophie had always suspected how Alec had felt, then, but actually experiencing it, feeling the wheels turning in his mind and listening to his insistence and excuses when all Ellen had wanted was a goodbye, had been enough to reignite the years of rage she’d harbored against him.

And what was she to do now? Talk about it? Drink about it? Continue to sit in silence and sulk over it? Any of those options required dealing with the issue — to varying degrees — and it was so much easier to just ignore it.

So that’s what she tried to do.

Pushing herself to sit upright, legs crossed, Sophie leaned against the headboard of her bed and pulled a tear-soaked pillow into her lap. She squinted against the light of her omnitool as she keyed in a familiar frequency, and as she waited for the connection to stabilize it occurred to her that she must be quite a sight, in her sweats with the hood pulled up, with nothing but her orange glow of the omnitool for light.

“It’s four in the morning, Ryder.”

She couldn’t make anything out on her omnitool’s screen, and assumed Reyes was in just as dark of a room as she was. Sleeping, probably, rather than having a minor crisis. “Damn. And here I was hoping you’d have time to get really drunk and have lots of sex.”

Sophie hadn’t missed the way her voice had wavered, and apparently neither had Reyes; there was the muted sound of shuffling from the other end of the call, then a light clicked on and Sophie was treated to a view of Reyes, without a shirt and with his usually carefully-styled hair looking delightfully mussed and unruly. “I’m not normally one to turn down an offer like that, but…” He trailed off, yawning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She fidgeted with the sleeve of her hoodie, and her resolve crumpled even without any prompting from Reyes. With a sigh, she leaned over to the panel on her bedside table and flicked on the light. “It’s stupid. I mean, I’d be over it before I even got to Kadara, anyway.” Sophie had wanted to avoid the subject, and here she was prepared to talk through it with Reyes; she hadn’t ever done anything like this with him, and found herself wondering at what point she would have to pin a label on their thing — it wasn’t really a relationship; they weren’t really a couple —if they continued this trend of being about more than booze and sex and distractions on a hostile planet.

But Reyes was still waiting for an answer, and Sophie had more pressing things on her mind.

“It’s… Look, I’ll give you the short version because I don’t even know how to give you the long version,” she began, hugging the pillow in her lap with her free hand. She bit at her lip as she thought, not sure where the hell to even start explaining her enhanced link with SAM. “My pathfinder implant is more… complex than the others. Courtesy of my father, who apparently thought he was immortal and no one would ever have to deal with his own fucking—” With a hard sigh, Sophie let her shoulders drop and shook her head. “Not the point. Anyway, I can… see, I guess, some of his memories. Experience them.”

The hand that Reyes had been holding up, shielding his eyes from the light of his own omnitool, slowly moved so he could look at Sophie. Brow furrowing, he was quiet for a minute. “I’d like the long version of that, at some point. I think.” He frowned.

“You’ll have to get it from someone else, then, because I don’t understand it. Anyway, I…” She trailed off, teeth pressing harder into her lower lip. There was a reason she usually went to Gil or Liam when something was bothering her; Liam was just so easy to talk to — and their talks always began with him handing her a beer — and Gil had a knack for knowing when they needed to talk and when they needed drinks and a game of poker. It would be easier, she reckoned, if she was there with Reyes, instead of just on a vidcall, but then again the drinks and sex excuse might have actually worked. “SAM showed me a memory this morning, and… it was the last time I saw my mother.”

“Sophie…” Reyes pulled himself up so he was seated, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes. The crisp white sheets pooled at his waist, but Sophie was too distracted to properly appreciate the view; either way, she was more focused on the concern etched into his features, a rare display for someone normally so suave and charismatic — rarer still that it was directed at Sophie. “Tell me about her.”

Not about it, not about the memory, not about the way her anger at Alec had overshadowed her grief at her mother’s death.

No, Reyes wanted to know about her, about Ellen, about the woman whose loss Sophie could still feel years later and a galaxy away.

“She was… kind. Above everything, she was kind. She was a glass-half-full type, but she had this thing about fate and acceptance and letting some things just happen. She used to always say… to say that—” Sophie took a shallow breath, feeling that familiar lump in her throat — one she’d thought she’d worked past, thought she’d trained herself to ignore when she talked about her mother.

But it was back, and all of a sudden her room felt too small — the whole ship felt too small — and she was faced with the fact that Ellen Ryder had died over six hundred years ago and Sophie had fled the galaxy where her mother was, and all she wanted was to claw her way back through dark space to Brazil.

“The first time Alec forgot mine and Scott’s birthday was when we turned seven,” she said, trying to pull herself back to the present conversation. “Scott wasn’t ever bothered by that stuff, not even then, but I just wanted us to be a family. I remember curling up in her lap and crying for forever.” Clearing her throat in an attempt to hide the shakiness that was beginning to creep into her voice, Sophie watched as Reyes studied her over the vidcall, taking in every word she spoke.

It felt good to be so openly wanted, and while Sophie had relished his initial one-track-mind sort of interest in her physically, Reyes’ recent earnest and eager desire to learn about her, about her life and her past, was something of a novelty for her. The relative openness they’d shared since Sloane’s death was… nice, and Sophie had been trying her best to embrace it.

“I was fifteen when I learned that he forgot their anniversary most years, too,” she continued. “I got right up in his face about it, yelling and saying all sorts of shit. Scott actually picked me up and carried me outside to calm down. I started buying her flowers every year — Mothers’ Day, Valentines, her birthday, anything that Alec could forget about.”

“That’s a much simpler solution that I would’ve expected from you,” Reyes commented, voice still rough with exhaustion but softened by admiration. “Then again — you are still single-handedly trying to patch up the galaxy’s problems.”

“Tell me about your mother,” Sophie suggested suddenly, pulling her knees to her chest; she was beginning to get restless, the way she always did when the conversation turned too personal and too open, but this time she had no desire to change the subject or end the call. No secrets between us, Reyes had said, hadn’t he, all those weeks ago in the aftermath of the Collective’s takeover of Kadara. While Sophie had thought she wanted to leave the Milky Way behind — let everything from that other life fade away — with as much as she’d been thinking about her mother and São Paulo lately, she found herself with a fledgling interest in Reyes’ life, too.

He gave his head a little shake and laughed, a low, quiet sound that pulled a smile from Sophie. “You would have liked her, I think. She was always doing something, always working or cleaning up after us kids. There were four of us, and we each had our own way of causing trouble.”

She rested one cheek on her knees, a little surge of warmth spreading through her at the soft, distant gleam in Reyes’ eyes; she hadn’t expected nostalgia from a man like him. “Big family.”

“It’s easy to feel… lost,” he admitted, looking away as his smile began to fade, “with three older siblings. Like everything’s nearly run out by the time it makes it down to you.”

“You miss them?”

“I left them long before I joined the Initiative. But… yes.”

Their call fell into silence, and Sophie felt a pang of loneliness. She missed her mother, and she missed Scott, and in a way she missed Reyes — missed being close to him when all she wanted was to curl up beside him and sleep until her head stopped pounding and her chest stopped aching. “I’m gonna go see if Gil wants to grab something to drink before we have to leave the Nexus,” she decided, already dreading her decision to end the call. “And… Reyes? I know you’ve got Kadara to run these days, but when Scott’s up and walking again, I’d really like if you’d come visit.”

The corners of Reyes’ lips slowly curled up into a small smile, and when he spoke his voice was filled with a sincerity and honesty that Sophie was still getting used to. “Promise.”

#brooke writes things #sophie ryder #fic: sophie #vidcalls fic #reyes vidal #otp: steal the stars #andromeda spoilers //#real actual spoilers for the ryder family mission #I'M DYING THIS MISSION IS KILLING ME

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