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soda-boots · 7 months

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Moths surround me, thought they'd drown me

This is a slightly concerning and definitely incomplete recount of yesterday (the 20th).

So post Passages, I have breakfast yada yada yada. Meet this girl named Antonia (we have breakfast and then dinner together actually with her friends Jessie and Islay). I go on the stand for xpression for a few hours and then go on the cinema crawl with the other committee. Meet some interesting people on there actually (most notably Lachlan). However before that I go to Rituals to see where Mo works and end up buying a 37 quid umbrella. Its a gorgeous umbrella and it better hold up. I rush back to my flat for my meeting with Jason and I think it goes quite well. I have dinner after and come back to my flat. I finally have the fantastic idea to go to the club... alone. I've never done it before and it's something I've always wanted to give a go. It's not like Jack and Haleemah are turning up at the club anytime soon and no one has ever invited me to join their group before (as far as I recall). I do try my best to be adventurous and this just me exercising that. I promenade to the shop to buy 2 bottles of cider and a can of pimm's. Downing one bottle and the can, while listening to Songs for You, I'm trying to hype myself up for this event.

I try inviting Lachlan to the club, but he can't make it (fair enough). Good even, this is a private event for me. The night starts to blur a little from here (but I can still remember pretty much all of it). I speak to Ellis about coffee or something and how coffee/alcohol makes me sleepy. An hour and a half before vaults opens to help the timeline. This is 7:27pm now.I talk about violet from Charlie and the chocolate factory I think at around 8

Going through messages to recount events is so funny lol. I listen to 'dem boy paigon' to hype myself up' and I believe I leave my flat say 8:40 pm -ish. I'm baskily power walking through these streets, no headphones on (I considered not even bringing my phone to stay fully immersed but I disregarded that whole ideology).

I walk by a bunch of people also going to town. These group of friends all walking and laughing together. At the time, I was so unphased by the juxtaposition of me alone and them in a bevy. It didn't matter, I was determined to have fun. {here begins ramblings from my notes app about how I'm feeling, what I'm hearing and seeing and comments from me}

‘We’re walking at gay speed “

This was so funny and initiated the whole idea

I wonder if it’s actually this cold or the alcohol has warmed up my body in some way

It didn't feel as cold at first, but then again I was definitely tipsy, if not flat out drunk at this point. I felt quite warm in my chest actually

Speed feels a bit weird. I’m kind of dizzy, like in an odd state of vertigo . I should have worn my glasses because I why is verything a little bit more blurry

I actually forgot that I felt like this. Time seemed to be moving very quickly at first. Like I was just racing through the streets. Everything had a slight blur filter on it and I was a bit dizzy. It was a strange feeling to be concurrently aware and so distinctly detached in this way.

I walk down the street towards the vaults and why do I start to sing 'mystery of love in my head'

Bounded by the time I cried ! I built your walls around me . White noise what an awful sound. Fluttering by rouge rivers. Feel my feet upon your the ground . Shall I find no other. oh woe is me

For context, I'm struggling to type accurately (I know I'm sobering up when I can do it better again later in the night)

The walk felt like nothing

It did feel strangely quick.

It’s closed (the vaults) . That’s so sad (one that it is closed and two that I got here while it was closed )

Of course in my eagerness, I get to the club while it's closed and now what do I do ? Go to another club (I'm determined !!!)

I just met Edward and his mum from film soc. I wonder how the interaction was from their end.

I stumbled back when I stop to speak to them. Edward is so nice and his mum seemed lovely. As I mentioned I wonder how that interaction was from their end. His mum had a strange but friendly expression on her face (she goes back to Belgium today).

Moving on, I see Rhys at some point (and I think it was around here. I also see Mo at some time while I’m on the cobbled streets near vaults but that’s earlier than this I think ). I trudge to Zinc and it's closed for a social !

I went to zinc and they were having a Taylor Swift Soc event. They’re playing all to well (10 minute version) that’s so cute . I think it’s Taylor Swift society . I don’t think it’s Taylor society because they started playing paint the town red by Doja cat

I'm out of it at this point. The see-sawing between whether it is Taylor swift society or not. I was a bit upset that I couldn't go to Zinc (but I just walked towards fever) because they were playing music I liked. I love how looking back I kept asking the bouncers, how I could buy a ticket and they so nicely and attentively answered me. I must have so clearly looked clueless. I couldn't get into fever too till about 10 and I just left .

Timeline update - 9:27

I tell Ellis I might go home. He suggests I go to a pub, and so I do

Don’t dwell on your feelings too much if not you will cry !

I'm quite emotional it seems.

Have you ever had a krispy kreme? Was it crispy (context - I saw a Krispy Kreme van )

I'm walking back to vaults here and I can't find it again, but notice bar named Pixy's. I read the board and walk by some guy who acknowledges me and I walk past. I get a bit lost and then walk back to Pixy's. I go in and the guy from earlier kind of jogs and he's the bartender. How hipster of him lol. I have no idea what I want and say that to him. He asks what I don't like, I say lemon because I don't really know (in actuality, I do enjoy lemon flavoured things). He makes this drink with watermelon and thyme vodka, lime cordial and apple Frobisher, and it tastes so good ! He says if I don't like it I don't have to pay for it (ok sales man). I did pay for it. I probably would have lied and said I liked it regardless of how I actually felt. He put in all that effort to try and impress me (ehhh did he?)

I went to a bar called Pixy’s and I got this thing made with watermelon and thyme vodka and then like cordial and a apple and something Frobisher

I sit and have my drink and every move I make has so much more weight to it.

Every movement feels exaggerated . Like with each sway, the strength grows more and more

I’m definitely less coherent than I think I am

Oh I’ve tried vodka now ( kind of)

There's a group of ladies having a great time in front of me. Once again the juxtaposition of them in their gaggle (but oddly I don't think about that at the time). I actually look back now thinking oh I actually had a fun time. I leave Pixy's and pass a bar called 'The Mermaid'. Just like with Pixy's I circle back to it very soon after and go in. I hoped I didn't fall down the stairs down into it. I go in and the art is very 'art nouveau' and the decor so heavily influenced by Art Deco. It was a shame there wasn't any have music playing. The walls were dark green. There were some geometric features within it.

I go to the bar and the man hands me their menu. Scanning it I notice a negroni and other things I recognise some other drinks. However, I loved the names of their mock tails more so I order one.

I went to a bar called the mermaid and ordered the rejuvenation. It has tomato and pineapple juice . Such a weird tasting drink. So tangy. The taste of tomato is highly present. Very acidic

While he makes my drink, drink I have a chat with the bartenders. They ask why I'm out and I'm like I've never been to a club and none of my friends have really been interested so I'm doing it myself. The lady bartender seemed quite proud of me. the guy making the drink mentions it's a weird one unless you like tomato juice. I get my drink and sit in the corner and sip on my strange drink. It tasted nice as far as I can recall. I sit down and I'm texting people, Max (I see his new haircut) and Ellis (who is baking a bread). I might have texted Haleemah too. I hear a cuckoo clock ...

The cuckoo clockification of my mind

There’s a really large plant here at the mermaid. I’m texting haleemah, max and Ellis. I texted Louise earlier

The bartender compliments my jumper when I leave. The irony of me going to a bars named pixy and mermaid when I do a fantasy creature show isn't lost on me. I finally get into the vaults and of course I am one of two people there. Addendum: I text Louise before I leave my flat, while I'm pre-ing and when I first get to the vaults and it's closed

Help why did the dj at vaults start playing started at the bottom at vaults . The dj started playing burna boy

Did I really offer the money back to the vaults workers after they forgot lol. The other guy in here (Andy) introduced himself

I’m trying so hard to manufacture this fun night and I’m failing a bit miserably. The workers are in beanies and that’s really cute. I feel very uncomfortable when Andy comes around me

They weren't wearing beanies, it was bucket hats. Andy is rather odd. He is quite tall and imposing and dwarves me, it doesn't help how close he keeps coming towards me. He seems to be having a lovely time on his own though. In a way maybe I should be more like him and let go. He's also here alone (like I am) but I would hope I don't come off that odd (now I have the implicit fear that I do). I leave and go off to the cathedral.

I’m at Exeter cathedral now. Why do I rely on religion so luck for some form of wholeness ?

It's that catholic school and religious family conditioning. I listen to 'goldwing' by Billie Eilish and walk around the cathedral; Examining the sculptures on the facade. I recite the Lord's Prayer and a Hail Mary (which I had to look up because I never formally learned it). I read the quotes/etchings on the floor around the cathedral and in a weird way they bring me comfort.

"Oh God give me of thy fullness

Thy surrounding and

thy peace"

It's attributed to traditional Celtic. I also view the monuments around and try to open some doors. It's 11 now. I know this because the church bells ring ( I never knew we had a church bells and it rang !)

I never knew Exeter had a church bell. That’s adorable and quite gothic.

Oh wow not Francis not noticing me . Uhh my god

Francis is my old flatmate for context. I basically had to chase him to talk to him. I also noticed Jack B from the radio

Why does everyone wear such dark clothing at night.

Contrasting my bright yellow jumper

Such a long queue at fever. It’s actually a bit cute how long it is

I think it’s quite cute how long it is, it might be time to call it a night. I’m so over this whole thing

I love how u still hold the vindication against America. In actually I did try and I did not enjoy. I did not like the whole night thing: I’m not saying I won’t reattempt but for a while. The club may just not be for me .

Of course I heard an American accent and got war flashbacks.

I leave fever and go back to vaults (for clarification this is the second time I will be inside ) and got to go right in since I got branded (stamped) with a pass.

Oh there are more people at the vaults now.

Andy just keeps saying the most random things to me. “ I ain’t fucking racist “ the bartender even asked if I was ok . Andy if you need to start your sentence that way you’ve already missed it He seems a bit nice. I might be sobering up because I’m sobering up and feel more coherent (also I’m typing a lot better) .

Why do I struggle so hard to villainise people? The bartender gestures towards me asking if I'm alright (nice of him I guess). I leave Vaults again. I leave vaults to join the queue at fever under the thought process that the line there will be more lively than this dead club.

People are so nice and caring here. Someone asked me if I was alright .

This occurs on the street for clarification.

I join the queue for fever and eventually end up talking to the people infront of me. They tell me I look 19/20. I literally turned 18 3 months ago. Can I just go a night without being ferociously humbled ??? Can I ? They were lovely however. Even offering to pay for my entry since I had no cash. I left soon after that

In a weird way it was contemplative. I’ve reached the point where I’m detaching my feelings and externalising them. I truly abhor drunken patter.

I want to listen to seether by veruca salt .

Can’t fight the seether. I can see her till I’m foaming at the mouth.

For the final time I am back at vaults and it's finally lively.

I left fever and now I’m back the vaults . There a lot more people here and I still feel a bit more out of place: maybe it’s the music . The heart palpitation induced by this bass is simultaneously awful and glorious . They literally recognised me at the door. A guy literally said I was the second customer . I’m a bit sick from that lol . This haze / smoke smells so odd

I know every song this dj is playing. He’s so cheesy .

There was a weird amount of older people there and it was a bit odd. Not be ageist or anything (my ageism is showing). I tell a guy happy birthday because he's wearing a party hat and dance a little with this group of first years

And I actually began to enjoy myself it felt nice and fun . I kept locking eyes with people which was slightly disconcerting by oh well. The haze started to pick on and the lights flashed more aggressively and with party in the USA blaring in the back I finally left for home at 1:30-sh my first time clubbing was not bad at all. While I wish it was smoother. beggars can’t choose.

BBQ SOCIETY !!!

I hear someone scream that from firehouse while I walk back home. I love how it is still lively.

I think u try so hard to be interesting and fun and worthy of affection. A lot of the time I don’t notice but I think I might just be too insecure to truly be my own person in a way that I’m happy with. Sure I get glimpses of that every now and again but ok the whole I don’t think I'm that confident enough to to truly exude it . To actually go out and be

The come down lol. I think I'm saying here that I try to do all these things to make myself feel interesting and fun so I can come across that way to other people. I have the fear that I'm just so uninteresting.

Met Chris , Connor and will at the bottom of block d. They were so nice and fun. I'm going to go off to bed

We had a little conversation and my night ended like that.Chris, Connor and Will (and one more other person actually but he went of earlier ) are guys that live in the first floor of my building that I met when I got home. They seemed like fun, nice guys. Chris had a rather sad speech about him justifying racism he had received when he was younger (he’s from Singapore). I don’t think racism should ever be rationalised. For context, it was a child being racist to him (so he definitely picked that up around) which is so disheartening. Even thinking about it now (about 12 hours later makes me feel ill) .

I will fix any grammar errors later but that's it really

#journal #clubbing #Wednesday #university

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amys-adventures · 2 years

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End of Program Update: Part 2

Okay, now let’s get into Holy Week Adventures. Semana Santa in Seville technically lasts from April 10-17, but I didn’t have class on Friday so I was able to actually fly out Thursday afternoon, which gave me 10 whole days to galavant around Europe. My first stop: Vienna, Austria. This was the first time I got to stay with the family of my friends in America who are from Romania! Rodica and her family were so unbelievably welcoming to me, I nearly had a heart attack my first day there. I arrived in Vienna at 10:00 pm on Thursday, and Rodica and her husband picked me up from the airport to drive me to their home on the outskirts of Vienna. Not only did they absolutely stuff me with homemade food and sparkling water the second I got through the door, they also gave me the room that normally belonged to their FOUR sons who had to stay with the neighbors! And they never once made me feel bad about taking over their room for four days. The first full day, I took the metro into the main city at Stephansplatz where, upon exiting the metro station, I was met with A CATHEDRAL RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE! I was blown away by the sheer grandness of Vienna after the two months of living in cramped Seville. The streets in Vienna are so wide and spacious, I found myself just holding my arms out and marveling at how I wasn’t touching anyone else or getting hit by a car. The buildings in Vienna are also so beautiful. White stone and copper green roofs with subtle gold details are my new favorite style of architecture. The statues in Vienna are absolutely gigantic and usually depict beefy men with even beefier thighs. I just walked around aimlessly for the first few hours of the day and ended up sitting in a park for a few hours writing in my journal before Rodica messaged me to ask if I wanted a friend to join me. And that’s how the 14-year-old daughter of Rodica’s friend ended up joining me and showing me around Vienna with her friend Jessy. Thiana and Jessy, despite being in middle school, were so fun to hang out with. We walked all over Vienna that first day and ate at an all-you-can-eat Asian buffet, and the next day we took the metro to Schoenbrunn to see the palace and zoo! I still can’t fully understand the insane beauty and size of Vienna. I miss those girls quite a lot…

The next stop after Vienna was Berlin, Germany. Rodica and her husband drove me to Vienna Central Station to board a train that would take me to Berlin in eight hours. But no matter how grueling it is to sit for that long, I’m happy I took the train because I got to live out my dream of being a mysterious European girl on a train through the countryside. There was a moment as we got closer to Berlin where I suddenly realized that this was where World War 2 happened and I started to see everything through a new lens. Suddenly, average farms and hills became entrenched with blood and death for the sake of freedom. It impacted me a lot more than I thought it would, if I’m being honest. I got to my Airbnb in Berlin late that night to find out that MY AIRBNB HAD A CAT! His name was Tigrou, he was fifteen years old, he was blind, and he was the love of my life. My first full day in Berlin, I actually met up with three of my friends from the program in Seville who were also in Berlin and we hung out for the day. Mostly we just walked around a lot, but that night we got drinks with someone that Hale knew and I got to try döner for the first time (nearly cried at the first bite of actual spicy food). The rest of my trip to Berlin is honestly a blur. I visited the Memorial for the Murdered Jews of Europe as well as the Berlin Wall Memorial, both of which were fascinating. I tried foods like curry wurst and ate my weight in döner (I was obsessed). Oh! And I also had to take a Covid test because one of my roommates got me incredibly sick (probably the sickest I’ve ever been in my life) and I wanted to be sure it wasn’t Covid. Surprise! It wasn’t. But I’m still pissed because being sick honestly made my trip so much worse. All because my roommate insisted on going to the club at least twice a week. Ugh! Oh well… I still had an amazing time. My Airbnb was absolutely beautiful and the people of Berlin were so refreshing to see after the tight-buttoned catholic grandmas of Seville.

After Berlin, I took a train and a bus to Strasbourg, France. Or, it was SUPPOSED to be a train and a bus, but the bus never showed up! I had to quickly purchase another train ticket to get the rest of the way to Strasbourg, and the family I was staying with ended up picking me up in Baden-Baden, Germany, because apparently it was closer to them. I got to stay with Esther and her family (more contacts from my friends in America), and it was absolutely wonderful. I got my own room (that didn’t belong to anyone else) and I found out that I actually know a lot more French than I thought. Esther and her husband knew a tiny bit of English, but I mostly spoke to them in French. Their three kids knew a lot more so I was able to use them to help translate when needed. They live in a tiny village 45 minutes from Strasbourg, and it was hands down the prettiest village I’ve ever seen. The houses were so cute and the trees were all blooming with pretty pink flowers. It was like something out of a story book. Emil (the husband) drove me and two of the kids into Strasbourg to walk around and I was left speechless by the town. I have never seen a more picturesque place. I didn’t know where to look first. And then we went to the cathedral. I’m telling you, that is the closest I have ever come to being religious. It was so insanely different from the cathedrals in Spain, I couldn’t close my mouth the whole time I was in there. For the first time, I feel like I understood why people worshiped in a divine being. I’m still not religious, but that was a place of honor if I’ve ever seen one. I miss Strasbourg and that family so much. Even though I was only there for three days, it was the best part of my Holy Week Adventures.

Continue in Part 3…

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sirensmojo · 3 years

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"KINDRED",5 - Tommy Shelby x Reader (x Alfie Solomons).

Warnings: Alfie is a warning, mention of abduction, swearing, guns, fluff & slight angst at the end.

Summary: You're an ex war-nurse reconverted as the leader of a feminist organisation. You join forces with the leader of the backstreet Birmingham gang, Thomas Shelby, to cut the head of the Fascist serpent, Oswald Mosley.

Word Count: 5K+

AN: Gina's family is totally OC as we know nothing about her in the show / POV alternate between characters' and Y/N's.

*Masterlist*

❰ Previous Chapter

*Margate, Solomons’ residence*

“Alfie!” You exclaimed. You were wearing a white woollen coat with fur around your neck, the same coloured futrzane at the top of your head flattening your finger-waved hair on each part of your face.

Under the woollen coat, you wore a light brown satin dress covering your full body with white high heels. Your look wouldn’t be complete without your blue stones jewellery collection of necklace and earrings. Your golden rings complimented her fingers above one of your white lace gloves.

That was the sound of your heels that made the man turn his head, his mind was elsewhere and he didn’t hear your call.

“Eh, eh, eh. Who that might be, huh, none other than Y/L/N.” He muttered to himself, squinting his eyes looking towards you.

You got closer to him and met with a frowning maid that looked at you with envy at the back of her eyes. You offered her a genuinely warm smile that let your white teeth out, which confused the maid.

“Glad to see you’re still breathing, Captain.” You reached to him.

You were always seemed to be open and all heart with women whereas you were the opposite with men.

“And what you be doing here, love? Thought I left you back in the smoke, innit?”

“Well I’m here Alfie, that war’s done, but there’s another one coming.” Y/N said outright. You stopped in front of him, took off the glove free of rings and passed your fingers through his hair, down to his cheek. Alfie remained silent as Y/N's fingers sprinkled his skin with sparks.

You grabbed his chin between your index and thumb, moving his head to the side, you were examining the damage that has been done to his right eye. “I met him.” You solemnly let out.

He already knew who you were referring to.

“He a fucking bookmaker, what you have with him?” He innocently let out, which made you chuckle a bit as you sat down on the sofa in front of him.

You clicked your tongue before slowly putting back your glove. “I love you, Alfie. There’s no bad blood between us but you know me. So don’t fucking try me.” Your threat was covered with an implied mention of your intertwined past, so you would reason with him with both reason and sentiment.

He grabbed the binoculars laying down next to him and raised it vertically towards the sea. “Fucking birds making noise all day annoying my peace of mind... If our mate didn’t shoot me I’ll be shooting ‘em, you know.”

“He was here before me, so you know he entered politics, Alfred.”

He glanced at you hearing his full name on your lips. No one but you ever called him that, and he had forgotten that habit of yours.

“I mean, he would’ve shot me anyway, right. But aiming right is free, innit?” He looked away. “Even at night, they be fucking screaming, mate. Try sleeping in some fucking screaming box.”

“You have trouble sleeping?” You snapped back, interested, catching the man's attention. He knew exactly what you were referencing to, shared memories about sharing beds during war.

“Not like that.” He got back to looking in his binoculars, choosing not to go on to that path.

“Not like that, huh?” You raised your brows at him, he had opened the gates and shall have what he asked for.

You let your coat fall on your arms, showing your naked shoulders and tilted your head. “We could still work it, like good old times, eh?” You teased the man, your Y/E/C piercing eyes not leaving his face.

Alfie didn’t even look at you. “Where’s your gun, Y/N?” He asked, presenting his palm to you, waiting. “Care to give it here for a sec?”

And without even thinking twice you grabbed your little gun from your shoulder holster under your coat and placed it in Solomon’s hand. You were watching his movements as he cocked the gun and aimed something outside the house you surmised to be the birds he was talking about.

“Thought you’d hand me one of your rifles, mad deceived ‘am now” He followed the targets with the gun without daring to shoot.

“War’s over, Alfie.” You put back on your coat and lit a cig before leaning backwards on the sofa, making yourself comfortable.

“Came in here telling me some war coming, now telling me it’s done…Come on, pick a struggle, love” He grumbled to himself as shifting his position.

“I lied. Actually, the war’s already here, and I have both feet in.” You raised your brows, smoking your cig.

“Me none.”

“Not yet.” You snapped back, getting up. “Look, Alfred. Margate’s not doing you any justice. Get back in business, come back to London.” You encouraged him. “You didn’t welcome me when I set foot in town. Didn’t even kiss me ‘bonjour’ *talking french* (=hello). I need my Captain back.” Your voice lowered on the last part as if you were pouting.

“Did you ever put your palm on one eye, eh? When child, you do that to see if life is any different seen by one eye or the other. You cover one eye with your palm and look fucking far away, yea. I used to do that often, you?” He stops what he was doing to glance at you, that was standing near him.

“No.”

“Well, life’s fucking different. Yeah” He nodded to himself confirming his story. “It really is, one eye doesn't show what you see with the other. I’m fucking blind, now. Can only see one side of life, can’t I?” He turned to you, staring. Under his confusing metaphor, he was talking common sense, and it wasn’t difficult for you to decrypt his code as you knew the character.

What he was saying was simple, the experience with Tommy & the Italians made him insensible to the things that used to interest him before. Business and power weren’t things he cared about now.

You silently nodded before sitting right next to him. You put a palm onto one of your eyes and looked to the sea, searching for the screaming birds. Once you found one, you rushed your hand under your dress, to the inside of your thighs, your hand came out with another gun that you pointed straight forward before shooting.

A bird’s helpless scream was heard before Alfie’s mouth opened. “Damn, woman. You still got this.”

“You just gotta picture what’s behind the black spot, Alfred. You fucking draw the lines in your head, because you’ve seen them. They’re here, somewhere in your mind, you just gotta draw them.” You muttered to his ear and he let out an “Um.” before trying to also shoot a bird.

(...)

When Y/L/N's foot touched the gravels of Small Heath’s ground, each women’s head turned to her as a disturbing silence spread over the crowd. She got out of the car when Lizzie opened her mouth, catching the attention of Polly, “He’s fucking her.” She spat with disgust, her eyes filled with jealousy and fear of losing Thomas once again.

Once a month, the peaky girls joined the reunion of women in Small Heath’s streets. This meeting's purposes were to one, show men that women, too, could gather, and second, to scare the institutions and politics about the numbers of women ready to fight for their rights. It was originally organized by Jessie Eden, a communist & feminist leader, but quickly was taken over by Y/F/N and her organisation.

Deleting the "communist" part of this meeting surely helped women gathered even more as they knew they weren’t directly taking sides in political matters, so the risk of getting arrested was low.

Polly’s eyes went from Lizzie to Y/N, who was shaking hands with some women wearing a soft smile along with a determined gaze. “Saw her once, going out of Tommy's office.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Every woman he be fucking went to his office.” She seemed fed-up, one of her feet angrily taping the ground back and forth.

“What business does Tommy have with a feminist?” Pol’ utterly murmured to herself, frowning. What was her surprise when she recognized the other woman coming out of the car, being none other than Ada.

The Thorne, initially Shelby woman, stood right next to Y/N, her brown hat set down on her finger waved hair. She wore her cream woollen coat with fur on her neck and ends of sleeves with pale rose heels. Her nails were bordeau-painted and complimented the red of her lips.

Polly never thought of Ada being interested in anything but communism, but here her niece was, and the thing that hit the Gray woman the most was that Ada seemed to belong there, talking to women and shamelessly shaking their hands. She wasn’t as reserved and distant as she usually was when around people.

“Let’s get out of here.” Polly started to walk away.

Lizzie frowned, “No reunion today?” She seemed relieved, she will not have to face the blonde woman that troubled her most lately.

“No reunion today.” Pol responded. She didn’t want to learn anything from Ada’s activities by spying, but she’ll surely try to draw it out of her later.

(...)

“You what?”

“Ada, sit.” You motioned to the nearest chair.

After the reunion, they both went to the house you bought for the organisation. It wasn’t big, nor elegant. It was a simple Small Heath’s house reconverted in an office.

If you wanted to stand a chance in changing the traditional standards toward women’s place in society, you needed to expand your organisation. You would put cabinets at each corner of the streets if needed. Women needed to know they stood a chance, they needed to know they weren’t alone in their battle and they needed to know they are protected, and that part, you made sure to honour.

“No, I’m not going to fucking sit. You didn’t talk about abducting somebody’s daughter, Y/N!”

Even if you didn’t have the police in your pocket, Tommy did, and their deal gave you the assurance you'll be able to run your business the way you wanted to. It was always better to have someone else command people to leave you alone than you using your high social status to get what you wanted. This way, if things went bad, it wouldn’t be you that’ll take the blame.

You sighed while raising your brows at Ada’s reaction. You pulled out your cigarette case and lit one that you handed her. Thorne took it and went to sit on the sofa, leaning her back to get comfortable.

“Damn, you’re just like him.” Ada let out, glancing at you who let out a “Huh?” of confusion.

You were intently looking at her as she also seated on the couch in front of you. You ignited yourself a cig and puffed on it, waiting for the other woman to process the information of you abducting Gina Gray.

“It’s like I’m in a meeting with Tommy.” She sighed. “It’s always about business and I can’t read him.”

In other words, you didn’t need Tommy to keep the police away from your activities, you could do it yourself if you wanted to. But taking care of this yourself meant to jeopardize each person in your organisation, and you couldn’t afford to risk it all.

“I saw you leaving the library with one of my women.” You blatantly let out, smoking your cig.

Ada frowned and shifted her position, she was uncomfortable. “She’s interested in communism.” She tried to defend herself as her cheeks reddened.

“I’m not judging you, I’m showing you it’s not always about business.”

“I was talking about you, not me.”

“This organisation is me, Ada, and you’re in it now. I know everything I need to know about it and I do everything I need to do for it.” You leaned towards the brown-haired woman.

In fact, it wasn’t at all about the expensive jewellery, nor the luxurious heels. It was about you having a family you cared about even if your kin weren’t blood-related.

Even if Ada understood what the woman in front of her meant, she couldn’t help but to roll her eyes, she heard this speech many times before, upon her brother’s lips. “Yeah, totally Tommy.” She tilted her head to the side. “You’re always avoiding the subject when I talk about him.”

“He’s not my business.”

“Lizzie would argue otherwise.” Ada raised a brow at you, meaning she knew what happened when you and Lizzie first met in Tommy’s office.

You chuckled, crossing your legs.

“What is it between my brother and you?” She asked.

“You’re bored, Ada. That’s why you want the details. Get back with that woman you found and spend time together, huh?” You dismissed the Shelby woman. And this time, Ada scoffed because Tommy once told her the exact same thing about her being bored.

You gained composure again and straightened back up, “You with me on that or what?” Your tone suddenly went serious again, and Ada’s expression changed.

“Why do you ask about my opinion, don’t you like giving orders all the time?” Ada teased the Y/E/C eyed woman. Y/L/N liked that about the Shelby sister, she was always pushy without being aware.

“Stop being petty, Ada. You’re more of a thinker rather than a doer.” She dismissed the remarks.

“So why do you want my help in the first place?” Ada pondered, confusion in her eyes. The things Y/N struggled to understand was how Ada didn’t see the potential that resided in her. She would always diminish herself and her power for some reason when Y/L/N thought of her as a force of nature that begged to shine.

“I just need that pettiness and fearlessness of yours. Like a kind of representative.”

“Of you?”

You shook your head. “Representative of the organisation.”

“It’s Michael’s wife and I’m a Shelby, meaning she’s family.”

“You’re a Thorne, Ada. And these fucking people out here don’t give a fuck whose side you’re on. They’ll kill you whenever they get the occasion to. I know you don’t like this, but it’s a Shelby I need on this field.” You were pointing your index at the windows, leaning toward Ada.

“You know Gina's people?” Ada exclaimed, raising her hands in exasperation.

You tilted your head to the side to confirm, your eyes deeply in Shelby’s.

“Am a Thorne or a Shelby on the field?” Ada raised a brow to you.

“Both are strengths.”

(...)

You were sitting at the counter of the Garrison, sharing a drink with Arthur when the doors opened on Tommy. You didn’t see him come your way, but Arthur did. He glanced at his brother and grabbed his own drink before joining people elsewhere ignoring your presence.

You looked at him, frowning, and that’s when you turned around you noticed Tommy’s presence. You rolled your eyes at him. “You like to scare off my dates?” You sat back down, sipping on your drink.

“I like the dress,” Tommy said, ordering a whiskey. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, but God knows it was because of the look he gave you while entering the pub that Arthur went away.

“Yeah?” You questioned quite surprised Tommy noticed you weren’t dressed as usual. “It’s different from the suits.” You added, seeing he wasn’t going to pursue the conversation.

The blue-eyed man glanced at Y/N's drink. “You drink rum now?” He grabbed his cigarette case and ignited one before handing it to the woman that gladly took it, a smile on her lips. He lit another one for himself.

“You’re alcoholic enough to tell the difference between whiskey and rum without tasting it?” Your suave voice made him look at you as clenching his jaw at your remark, this was all you would get from him.

“I’ve met with Mr Solomons, I thought it was the least I could do to buy some bottles of his.” Tommy’s eyes that were staring at Y/N's lips went up in a hurry when hearing her confession.

“You did what?” Thomas turned so his body faced the woman, his eyes anchored deeply in hers.

He was never so sure about your intentions, nothing was ever sure with you, whereas it was your feelings or what was in your head. And your unreadable face didn’t help a bit.

“I’m drinking rum, now.” You raised your brows at him, cheerfully.

The warmth your smile ignited in him wasn’t enough to make him forget about what you just said. Tommy’s lids fluttered as he remained silent, blankly looking at you. He was aware you thought of Alfie to run the south, as well as himself, but he didn’t expect you to be so direct and visit Alfie Solomons that fast.

“Stop looking at me like that, Tommy. You knew about Alfred and me.”

A wave of questions flowed through his mind, from the tender tone you worded Solomon’s name to the hidden message behind your words. What did you mean by he and you? Something was screaming at him that your relationship went beyond business at a certain point.

His brows raised. “Alfred, eh?” He scoffed, turning back to the counter, puffing on his cig.

He suddenly remembered the war records, informations hitting him like thunderbolts. You were in the same section. Alfie was the Captain of a battery in the artillery where you were sent. You knew each other.

“I also made him talk about the little arrangement you didn’t tell me about.” You let out dismissively. You weren’t blaming him for not telling you he asked Solomons to send his men to create a riot when Mosley will do his speech, you simply voiced your surprise. You thought he trusted you and were deceived to discover that he, in fact, did not.

A minute that seemed to last centuries passed, and you glanced at him. You were silently smoking as he was deep in his thoughts, not even looking at you.

“Well, it seems I’m not aware, no.” His voice was deep and he coughed before drinking his whiskey, his icy eyes looking straight forward to him.

You squinted your eyes in confusion before realizing he didn’t listen to you, he was still on that Alfred thing.

“You don’t listen to me.” You got up, blankly looking at him.

Tommy feigned not to see you, but when you raised a hand to his that was leading his cup to his mouth, a shiver ran down his spine in anticipation.

Even if he wanted to ignore you or how you made him feel, his body betrayed him.

You tenderly grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm towards you. Your piercing eyes met with his cold ones, as you dangerously neared your face.

Y/N ended up connecting the tip of their nose before slowly teasing his lips with hers. He was looking into your soul hidden in your iris and you were doing the same, you were the same.

You might be using flirt along with charm to get what you wanted from men, but with Thomas, it wasn’t the same. He had the exact same hold on you that you had on him, and both could feel it when in an intimate moment.

Their intimacy wasn’t simply about sex, a hunger due to an innate desire or need, no. It began the minute they would shamelessly dive into the being of the other. When he was undressing your soul with the most usual look.

You ultimately sealed your pleading lips together, considering they stayed apart for too long. Their warm breaths intertwined as both of you forgot everything around you, this moment belonged to no other than you, this instant was yours.

You could pretend you weren’t emotionally involved as long as you wanted when alone. But you couldn’t lie when in front of him. You didn’t feel the need to. You could just be yourself, it was more than enough there, at the mercy of his fingers.

Out of breath you pulled away, you opened your eyes to Tommy’s one looking straight at you again, and that made you laugh. He couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your rare giggles.

Nothing needed to be said when your eyes were connected, as well as nothing needed explanation when your lips were sealed, you were him and he was you. The urge of feeling your inner worlds collide again, Y/N came kissing him some more, to Tommy’s greatest pleasure.

“I know about using Alfie's men.” You murmured without leaving his lips, and he nodded slightly.

“I knew you would find it one way or another.” He answered. One of his hands went to your back as he was fondling you with his thumb above the fabric, he pulled you closer to him as your fingers were passing over his lips in a tender way.

You hit his chest with your other hand, realizing he wittingly kept his deal with Alfie from you just so you would get a little mad. It was his way of teasing you about the fact you cared.

He was purring under your touch when the doors opened. Polly’s eyes directly dropped on Tommy and the librarian before quickly glancing around the pub, meeting with Arthur’s. They both marked a pause and looked back to the two bill & cooing birds...

It wasn’t Tommy’s type to be that open about his relationship with a woman, but Polly already knew what was in his mind. He was convincing himself it was solemnly business, as with the other women he works with, but she knew he was starting to fall in love without even noticing it.

You both got back to reality and pulled away when Pol walked to you, going back to your respective drinks as if nothing happened. She placed herself in between you two, forcing you to take a step aside.

Tommy coughed, looking into his drink as if there was the most interesting thing in there as Y/N grabbed her things, she then started to walk away. And without even looking back, she passed the Garrison’s door.

Polly was staring at Thomas, her words useless in this situation. He glanced towards her and quickly went back to drinking, he wasn’t going to have that conversation with her.

It was Arthur, coming back to the counter that brought up the previous display between his brother and the librarian, “See Polly, my brother got another singing bird.” He was smiling before encountering Tommy’s eyes telling him to shut up, making his smile fade.

“And what you think it is, Thomas? Business?” Her deep trembling voice made him close his eyes a long time as he sighed. “It is love, Arthur.” She glanced at the man behind the counter. “You’re brother’s in love.” She continued, leaning to Tom, dramatically making him know in what he trapped himself.

He opened back his eyes and firmly dropped his fist on the wooden board in a thud, coughing away her words.

The Peaky Blinders head drank from his drink before quickly glancing to the doors you passed minutes ago, lost in thoughts. And as he was sure to think with his head, Polly knew he was thinking with his heart.

(...)

The man was walking slowly, each of his steps was heavy as the whistling escaping from his lips echoed on the concrete walls.

Ada that was on the other side of the wooden door looked through the window, trying not to overthink this situation. Since her first day as a book counsellor under the management of Y/N's organisation, she was never given major tasks. Rather kept at the very back of everything illegal.

But these past few days, she noticed Y/N was taking her to the important reunions, and Y/N's right hand, Ana, had been ordered to introduce Ada to “the work” as Y/L/N called it.

She didn’t know why it was her that had to meet with Gina’s father as Y/N was the one knowing what she needed from him, but Thorne kept away any negative thoughts, focusing on what needed to be done.

The door opened and a tall man entered. He was wearing a creamy long jacket, beige pants. Under the jacket, Ada glimpsed a shirt topped by a Roman collar similar to the priests’. His arms were crossed in his back.

He was pretty imposing, with large shoulders. Even under the fabrics, his browny chest and body could be seen.

Her gaze went up to his face, encountering his deep hazel coloured eyes staring straight at her. He got little eyes, their corner dropping as if he was sad. But she knew this type of man didn’t feel that emotion. Even if his iris were warm coloured, his gaze was cold, almost as if he wasn’t alive anymore, his eyes didn’t shine, they were glassy.

All those informations made Ada nervously gulp, continuing to examine the man’s face.

He had thick straight brows and he wore his brown curly hair slick on the side, one curl falling down his forehead.

He didn’t close the door behind him and walked to her until he was inches away. “You’re not Y/N.” His deep hoarse voice worded. And his remark made her instantly roll her eyes at him.

“Just sat, already. Can I offer you a drink?” Of course, she wasn’t Y/N, if he knew her, he would know it wasn’t as simple as that to meet with her.

“I don’t drink.” He squinted his eyes.

“Well, I do.” She turned to the counter to pour herself some whiskey and gladly started to sip on it as going to sit down. On his side, the man was walking in the room, stopping himself from time to time to examine the objects and frames he was surrounded by. “Is this your house?” He was fidgeting with a woman’s body paperweight.

“Your daughter doesn’t seem to be delighted by the fact you’re here.” She let facing him head-on.

He turned to her as she was staring at his face fearlessly. He delicately dropped the paperweight and went sitting down in the armchair in front of the brown-haired woman that followed his every move with her gaze.

“How’s your son? Mrs--” He feigned to search for her last name, but Ada knew he wanted her to understand that whoever she might be, he could get to her and her family if he decided to.

Of course, it wasn’t Ada’s house, but everything was made to make him believe so. They put some of her personal photographs with her son along with other personal effects.

“Thorne. Ada Thorne. And my son’s alright.”

This way, he will think he has the advantage over her, and if he wants to try anything, this is this house that will be targeted. But in fact, this house was one of the many business properties Y/L/N owned in the neighbourhood.

“Oh my.” He chuckled, raising his brows. “She got political alliances.” He crossed his legs and leant backwards in the chair, his arms laying on each of the armrests.

“You’re interested in politics Mr Rice?”

The man gave a faint smile hearing she knew about him more than he knew about her.

“Everything’s politics, Mrs Thorne.” He raised his gaze to her. He wasn’t being pushy or aggressive, but the atmosphere around him was heavy. His presence made her uncomfortable, and if she wasn’t a Shelby, she’d be unable to face him and stand the stare.

She nodded to him, thinking he answered right.

“I’m no longer in business, Y/L/N knows that very well. I left my brother in charge, it is him you need to see.” He was choosing his words meticulously, and each sentence he spoke was filled with unsaid things.

Not only was he implying that Y/N might be incompetent cause she picked the wrong guy, but he underlined the fact it was a family business, meaning abducting his daughter, wasn’t the best idea.

For a second, she thought her boss may have committed an error by forcing this Mr Rice to come to England, but she was quick to understand he was trying to destabilize her.

“Did you come all the way from Chicago to tell me I need to address another man? Wouldn't it be more intelligent to tell that in a call? ” She raised a brow, and now she was the best match for this meeting.

The man remained silent as he was smiling again, understanding his strategy will not work with her.

“It’s not about a man, not your brother, not you. It’s about Gina, your daughter, using your own methods to manipulate her husband to take control of something bigger than her, something she couldn’t even manage to take care of if she succeeds at having it. But we both already know, in reality, it’s your brother using her.” She returned him his evil smile before tilting her head. Her words sounded like bombs in the man’s ears. Acknowledging the fact his brother might use Gina for his own needs made Mr Rice gritted his teeth as one of his hands clenched into a fist.

He had been trying to get into her head, manipulating her into believing their actions were useless and that nothing could be done about the plan his daughter and Michael had. But being a Shelby as well as a Thorne, Ada knew how to handle those types of people.

“Well, you saw right through me. I see now why Y/N chose you.” He raised both his hands in admittance of his defeat.

Even if the man in front of her seemed harmless, she didn’t want to stay alone with him any longer. He was peculiar, from the way he was standing to his aura, she knew Gina's father was a weasel. She could read in his eyes he was lurking for the moment she'd let down her guard to get to her.

“Now you will meet with her.” Ada decided it was the end of this interview, surprising herself into taking such a decision. Maybe Y/N wanted her to do something more?

She gasped when getting up, which helped her get her mind clear. She understood her role was to make him realize he wouldn’t escape until they have what they wanted from him.

She went to the table, writing an address, a day and an hour on a piece of tissue paper. She then walked to the bearded man and handed him the fabric.

“Now business can begin…” She paused, keeping him from taking the paper. He glanced at her, sighing. “And leave your shenanigans at the door for this meeting, bring your will to cooperate instead... She way worse than me.”

(...)

*Shelby Company Limited*

Tommy opened the door to his office, he intended to walk towards his desk when hearing a low voice. “Arthur asked whose side I’m on.”

He turned around to a curled up Polly in the chair at the corner of his dark office. She wasn’t facing him, her body was halfway turned, as well as her face, leading her to look at him with side-eyes.

He didn't need to ask her what she was talking about. Since the meeting where Michael offered to run the business family, taking Tommy's place, she was distant, as if thinking about her son's proposal.

Tom surmised tonight was the time she'll give her final answer.

It was raining, the wind violently slapped the windows as well as the raindrops, the outside storm perfectly reflecting the conflictual atmosphere settled between the two. The climate deprived the office of any light, but a shy desk lamp faintly illuminated the place.

He took off his black gloves, throwing them on the table separating them. He then sighed and went sitting on the chair, raising his gaze to her, waiting for her to continue to speak.

“There will be a war, and one of you will die.” Her deep trembling voice along with the lapping of the rain on the windows added to the dramatic atmosphere.

Tommy sighed, he knew she was right. He was, indeed, waiting for a war. “But which one I cannot tell.” Her black eyes were staring straight into Tommy’s blue one.

He let out a “Hum.” surmising she’ll not add anything else. He nodded to himself, “he’s gonna do it anyway.” he continued. It wasn’t a question, this would explain her presence in his office that late in the night.

“Yeah.” She responded.

“You should know, if Aberama takes his side I will kill him.” Tommy said upfront.

She looked down before raising her gaze to him again, “And what about me?” She wasn’t blinking, patiently waiting for the confirmation of Tom’s determination to stop her son.

Tom paused, he was aware she was trying to know his intention and he was debating within himself if he could afford to let her know.

“I’ll do what I have to do, Pol” He dropped his definite sentence, he didn’t move his stare or body a bit. He didn’t need to let her know how determined he was, it was already showing.

“Kill… And kill.” She sang with a low voice, slowly blinking. She seemed tired of this situation, as well as tired of it all.

“It’s the only way to make people listen” He nodded his head to the side as murmuring his words.

Since her near-death experience with the noose, she wasn’t the same Polly that he knew. She was only a mere shadow to the person she once was. But this time she seemed truly fed-up.

The thunder was rumbling outside when she got up with slow movements. The sound of her high heels nearing him mixed with the sound of the rain racing down the windows.

She grabbed an envelope as well as her drink. “Soon, you will have a stage to stand on. Millions of people will listen to you. And you will run the country like you run this family.” Her head was held high.

She was looking down on Tommy.

He knitted his brows, holding the stare even if he had to raise his head to meet her. “It appears to be what people want.” He nodded to himself, trying to convince him, or her of what he was saying.

“But not me.”

He blinked.

“Not anymore.”

He blinked again.

“My resignation.” She concluded while dropping the envelope on the table before him. She also put down the empty cup and looked at him some more before turning her back at him and walk toward the exit.

He stared at the empty space in front of him where the woman used to stand prior as he heard her steps receding. Tommy inhales deeply before sighing, dropping his head forward. Her words hit him as bullets would’ve. She was the only thing that kept him from losing his mind. Polly had always been more to him than what he ever showed, and the fact she let him down now did hurt him.

Tommy grabbed his gun from his shoulder holster under his suit jacket and looked at it while exhaling. He moved his hand, turning the gun on both sides, looking at it as looking at a let-out.

Nothing would stop him from founder now. He could embrace his demons and play how he wanted.

Following Chapter ❱

#tommy shelby x reader #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders fanfic #thomas shelby x y/n

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princesssarisa · 3 years

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Character ask: Sleeping Beauty's Prince

Tagged by @ariel-seagull-wings.

These answers apply to the Prince from Charles Perrault and the Brothers Grimm's versions of the tale and all subsequent traditional retellings, as well as to Disney's animated Prince Phillip. They don't apply to any of the pre-Perrault versions of the character who impregnate the Princess in her sleep, nor do they apply to Prince Phillip from the live-action Maleficent duology.

Favorite thing about them: He's a charming fairy tale prince. Even though that archetype is easy to mock, it's still endearing. For Disney's Prince Phillip, let me add to that his warmth, courage, intelligence and sense of humor. He's definitely the best of the three Walt-era princes; Snow White and Cinderella's princes are stuffed shirts by comparison.

Least favorite thing about them: In the traditional tale, kissing a sleeping girl whom he doesn't know. The issue of consent is much more of a real issue here than it is in Disney's Snow White.

I don't think it's quite as much of an issue for Disney's Prince Phillip, though, because he and Aurora were already in love before she fell asleep, and because he knows the kiss will break the spell, as opposed to just kissing her because she's so pretty. About Phillip my least favorite thing is probably his bold pressing of his feelings onto the shy, withdrawing Aurora in "Once Upon a Dream." Of course it's just old-fashioned wooing, perfectly innocent by the standards of its time, but by modern standards, if a girl is reluctant to speak to you because you're a stranger, the appropriate response isn't "But we've met before... once upon a dream."

And for Perrault's Prince: For goodness' sake, how could you leave your ogress mother in charge of the kingdom and leave your wife and children in her care when you went off to war?! You knew she craved human flesh, you hid your marriage for two years to protect your wife and babies from her, but then...?! Perrault's bowdlerization of Sun, Moon and Talia (changing the wife who tries to kill her husband's mistress and illegitimate children into a flesh-craving ogress mother-in-law) is awkward and reduces the Prince to an idiot. The Grimms were wiser to cut that part of the story altogether and end with the awakening of Sleeping Beauty and her castle.

Three things I have in common with them:

*I like stories about princesses.

*Like Disney's Phillip, I love Aurora's singing voice.

*Also like Phillip, I like the color red.

Three things I don't have in common with them:

*I'm not royalty.

*I'm too shy either to kiss a sleeping person I've never met (traditional tale) or to romantically pursue a retiring stranger at first sight (Disney's Phillip).

*Unlike Disney's Phillip, I don't know how to handle a sword, so a dragon would probably make short work of me. Though if I had the fairies to help me, who knows?

Favorite line: From Disney's Phillip:

"Now Father, you're living in the past. This is the 14th century!"

BrOTP: His horse, Samson, from the Disney version.

OTP: Sleeping Beauty.

nOTP: The Old Fairy/Maleficent.

Random headcanon: Perrault's prince has always struggled with the fact that he's half ogre. He has cravings for human flesh too – nowhere near as strong as his mother's, because he's half human, but other people do smell all too tasty to him. Yet he manages to control that side of himself, so he naïvely assumes his mother can control it too, not realizing that she has no desire to control it.

Unpopular opinion: Even though the issue of non-consensual kisses deserves to be discussed, I don't think it makes either the Prince or the story unredeemable. Disney resolved it fairly well by having Aurora and Phillip effectively be already in a relationship when the kiss takes place (yes, it was Love at First Sight, but that's just a storytelling convention), but to do that they eliminated the 100 years of sleep from the original tale. I might be tempted to write a retelling that keeps the 100-year sleep, but draws inspiration from the scene in the ballet where the Lilac Fairy shows the Prince a vision of Aurora, and had the Prince communicate telepathically with Sleeping Beauty thanks to some magical intervention. Every night he would dream of meeting her and talking with her, while in the castle she would simultaneously have the same dream about him, and in the last dream before he actually finds her, she would give him consent to kiss her.

Song I associate with them:

The obvious: "Once Upon a Dream" from the Disney version:

youtube

"Slumber" from the Cannon Movie Tales version.

youtube

Favorite pictures of them:

This illustration by Charles Folkard:

This illustration by Jessie Wilcox Smith:

This one by Trina Schart Hyman – both here and in her Snow White, her bearded princes are a nice change of pace for fairy tale lovers who prefer manly men to pretty boys, and this moment with his bride-to-be and her parents is so joyous and sweet:

This illustration by Mercer Mayer – I like the way his clothes are tattered from fighting through the briars:

This illustration by Christian Birmingham:

Disney's Prince Phillip with Aurora:

Christopher Reeve in the Faerie Tale Theatre version:

Nicholas Clay with Tanhee Welch in the Cannon Movie Tales version:

Matthew Ball with Yasmine Naghdi in Tchaikovsky's ballet:

#fairy tale #sleeping beauty #prince #prince charming #prince phillip #ask game

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guessimwritingficsagain · 3 years

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To been seen, part Four (Frankie Morales x Reader)

Summary : You get a text. You freak out.

Author’s note : I am very very soft for Frankie.

Also, I have a few days off and I thought I have been really self-indulgent so : the cheese gift really happened to me (best birthday ever, he got me a Mont d'Or because he knew I had planned on eating one with my best friend to celebrate), the Edward Scissorchands movie thing really happened to me, and the "date" with the grandma too. In France, the Opera is often showed in movie theaters. When I was a teenager, I thought it was quite the event, though. So I got invited. Next thing we saw together with that guy was the movie Black Swan and I made sure someone was tagged along.

The holidays came and went in a blur of laughter, hot chocolate was big sweaters. You were happy. And Jessie was happy too. January came, and went, too. Everything was slow. So you watched the movie you’d bought, and a bunch of others too.

February was over before you knew it, and when March warmed up the air, you found yourself, one morning, looking at the screen of your phone like the message would disappear if you blinked. You turned your eyes to the cupboard that contained the empty box of chocolate that sat there, hidden from the sniggering remarks of Linda, and looked back at the screen. The text message was still there. You put the phone down, abruptly, fingers tingling and burning and went to get a glass of water. Your eyes landed on the bottle of wine, still unopened, and you almost spilled your drink. You went back to your phone in a hurry, opened the chat you shared with your friends and sent

Who the fuck gave Francisco fucking Morales my phone number ?????

You waited, breathing hard, hoping anyone would answer. Nothing came, not right away. Phone on the table again, you slumped on the couch, nervous breakdown on its way. You couldn’t do it, there was no way you could do that, you couldn’t, that would kill you, you wouldn’t survive this.

Time floated for a while, up until your phone vibrated and you jumped. You’d been so caught up in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed everyone had answer, Anna, Jessie and Linda with a simple « not me » but James …

James had sent a

Go get some

And an eggplant emoji.

James, then.

Okay.

You were fine. You could answer a text. You knew the drill, by now. You knew how to pretend you were not freaking out every time Frankie did something unexpected and kind, like that time he offered you chocolate and a bottle of wine for Christmas. You had coping mechanisms, now, to hide the fact you had a doctorate in yearning.

You’d replayed the Christmas Scene so many times in your head you sometimes thought you made it up, but the reminders were there, in your flat.

You’re replaying it now.

You’re getting out of your car, with ten minutes to spare before work starts. It’s almost six. You spot Frankie’s truck on the parking lot and you’re a bit surprised but mostly delighted, even more so when you see the man himself jogging towards you. It takes you a minute to see he’s holding presents. By the time he gets to you, you’re confused. He smiles a breathy hello before handing you what he’s got in his hands. You stare at the neatly wrapped packages for a bit, like the dumbass you are, unable to put two and two together. Maybe it’s for Clara ?

It must be for Clara.

You take them. Say thank you. And Frankie answers :

« Open them. »

Your braincells must have left the building like God in Supernatural, gone off to do the Macarena dance somewhere very far away because all you can answer is what and you know you sound like a dumbass and you feel like one too.

The lack of reaction is getting to Frankie, you can tell, because he’s rubbing the back of his neck and you feel bad that he’s embarrassed so you say :

« You got me presents ? »

Well, except you don’t really say it. More squeal it. Or shriek it. You’re not sure. It feels like a repeat of that moment a boy you’d liked but never made a move on offered you fucking cheese on your birthday and was all embarrassed about it and you didn’t know what to do or say because his birthday had been a few days before yours and you didn’t get him anything.

You add, for good measure, because why the hell not :

« But I didn’t get you anything. »

Like maybe he’s going to take them back, or maybe the moment is going to rewind except you don’t want it to rewind because Frankie has gifts for you, just for you.

Maybe he got something for Jessie and Anna, too ? You wonder. And Linda. You know he goes there to buy books. Maybe he showed up and got her some stuff. Not books, you hope. Stupid to buy books to a bookseller.

All of this goes through your mind and in the meanwhile Frankie’s waiting and when you finally put your bag down on the hood of your car to carefully open the first present, your body finally moving, you don’t miss the sigh of relief that escapes Frankie. It’s a box of chocolate, a fancy one at that. You recognize the brand. You hold it for a while, before you set it down with your bag and say thank you in a voice that’s way too small. You open the second one, then. Wine. White wine. Wine that you actually love. Your favorite. You wonder how he knows that.

You’re holding the bottle the way he’s holding his breath : tight. You lift your eyes to meet his and you can tell he’s embarrassed and a bit blushing. He rearranges the cap on his head and announces :

« Merry Christmas. »

You say it back, smile so big your cheeks hurt because Frankie got you presents for Christmas. You put the bottle with the rest of your stuff and then, on a whim, you throw yourself at him for a hug. He closes his arms around you, and one hand comes up right between your shoulder-blades, his thumb just here, sitting on the back of your neck, skin against skin and maybe you’re dead and in heaven right now.

You stay like this way too long and at some point you mumble against his shoulder that you really didn’t get him anything.

« It’s fine », he answers as he lets go, hands squeezing your side briefly.

You get into work late.

And now, you got a text. You opened it, read it again.

Maybe you could do this. Maybe you could take it to the next level. After all, you’d became closer to the boys over the last two months. Santi could have sent you that text, right ? That text didn’t have the word date in it. Maybe you were friends now. Frankie’d gotten you Christmas presents, after all.

So you read the words again, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you sent a yeah, sure, I’m in !

Your eyes went over his message once again, just to make sure the words would be burnt into your brain.

Hey, it’s Frankie. I know Friday’s your day off this week. I got two tickets to that new Marvel movie and one with your name on it. You in ?

You could spend two hours in a dark room with Francisco Morales right next to you. No problem. None at all.

———

He’d picked a screening that ended around seven. Your mind supplied just in time for dinner, and you kicked the two remaining braincells you had. You’d decided to drive there separately and were now sitting next to each other, you explaining the Marvel timeline and him listening intently. You were a nerd, but, him, not as much. You didn’t try to think too hard about the fact that he was doing this for you, because he was not as much into comics or movies as you were.

The whole thing was pleasant and relaxed.

This was not a date, you reminded yourself.

You got dinner after that, dissecting the movie as you ate - nothing fancy, but it was nice. The conversation shifted, at some point.

« Yeah, I get what you mean : movies are not the place to make a move. Especially when there’s a hot guy on the screen. I mean, what chance do you get when you’re watching a movie and Oscar Isaac is right there ? » Frankie laughed.

You nodded, getting another sip of your drink, and, as an afterthought, added :

« You know, Santi kinda looks like Oscar Isaac … »

Frankie grunted :

« Never, ever, tell him that. »

You promised you wouldn’t. After that, the two of you told each other stories about your worst dates, and you remembered :

« You know, when I was younger, before I met James, I hung out with a bunch of guys. I was like, fourteen, and they were sort of … beginning to understand I was a girl, you know. There was this guy, a good friend of mine, who actually told this other guy we weren’t going to see a movie. I remember, it was a special screening of Edward Scissorshands. So, my other friend never showed up and the guy told me he couldn’t make it. »

« Let me guess, the other guy told you later he thought you weren’t going ? »

You laughed.

« Yeah, basically. And then this guy I went to see the movie with invited me to a really fancy thing. It was a Wednesday afternoon, I remember. We got lunch. I didn’t pay for anything because he’d invited to come along with him and his grandma. Let me tell you : after that, I made sure to always have someone with us when he invited me somewhere. »

Frankie’s laugh was something you’d never grew tired of, you knew that.

———

Months went on, like that, with you and Frankie hanging out to see movies, and everybody showing up for Benny’s fight when you could (Jessie and you had to keep James updated, those nights, because he’d gone back to Washington after new year’s eve but wanted to know everything). Jessie had started dating a guy, at some point, and you didn’t find him that great but Will hated him.

« When are you gonna make a move ? » You asked, one evening as you were sipping beers with him at his place.

« When she doesn’t have a boyfriend dull as dishwater » He answered without missing a beat.

You knew this was the moment, then. You had two options : say nothing and let things be, or say something and get those idiots together. You thought hard, about the phrasing of your next sentence, and settled with :

« For you, she’d dump him. »

Will froze at that, just for a second, and quipped back :

« I’ll make a move when you make a move on ‘Fish. »

So that conversation was happening. You’d hoped none of the guys had noticed but obviously, at least one of them had. And you knew, by now, that his ex-wife had left him, had left Maria too. You knew he was available. You sputtered a bit and Will, kind Will, let it be. You enjoyed a nice evening with him, not once wondering why he sought you out, because Will and you didn’t hang out.

The answer came a few days later, with a simple text from Frankie.

Come over please

———

« I need you to take care of Maria », Frankie said as he opened the door. He looked really tired, like he hadn’t slept in days.

Please, he added, begging but you didn’t quite understand what he was begging for.

You complied, never stopping to think that this was the first time you saw Maria, never stopping to think about what might be possibly happening, even as Frankie went to his room, muttering apologies. It hit you when you put the girl to bed, and you remembered Frankie and the way he’d been looking at you that day, when he’d asked if they could throw a birthday party for their late friend’s daughter.

It was around that time, last year.

You walked hesitantly towards Frankie’s bedroom and stared at the white paint in it for a while. You were nervous, and actually turned around to smoke a cigarette outside, the air a bit too chilly for you, but cold enough to wake you up and give you the strength to walk to Frankie’s bedroom and knock.

So you did it.

He didn’t answer, but, feeling bold - or rather, feeling like you needed to do it - you opened the door anyway. The room was almost dark, the moonlight giving you an idea that Frankie was curled up, on his side. You put a hand on his shoulder. He put his on top of yours. You chose - you chose - to take it at a silent invitation, lifted the covers, and got, fully dressed, right next to him. Because friends do that.

———

When you woke up, he was staring at you. While your brain tried to make sense of the situation, you asked, voice heavy with sleep :

« What time is it ? »

Seven, Frankie answered. Maria’s gonna wake up soon, he added. You were too tired to say anything else, because when you’d laid down next to him you’d felt like your heart had been about to burst so you’d just listened to him, his breath steadying as he’d got to sleep. You’d finally got to sleep too, but it was too damn early for you.

Later, you’d blame what happened on your foggy brain : you snuggled closer, and Frankie let you. Then, it hit you. At that moment, right next to him, it hit you : you were not friends with him. You were pretending to be, but you were not and never would.

You couldn’t.

You wanted to wake up everyday like that, to Frankie telling you it’s seven, Maria’s gonna be awake soon. You wanted everything and friends just wouldn’t cut it.

Two things happened at once, then : you were realizing how much you liked - loved - Frankie when he gently took one of your forearm and brought it to his lips. All of the feelings hit home just as he was kissing the soft skin on your wrist and you froze.

He saw it and let go immediately, muttering apologies, while you were still processing what you felt about him. When you reached to grab him, to tell him how good that was and how wanted him to do it again, it was already too late.

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales #triple frontier #Pedro Pascal x reader

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zmayadw · 3 years

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Evening to all :)

Allright, so after two days of terrible headache, one sleepless night, lots and lots of coffee, and constant tweeks of what I already had written, its time to continue with the story. Lets have some fun at the Aurora :)

Wish you all a nice evening :)

CALL OF THE RAVEN

PART 8

We left the restauran and drove to Aurora. It was saturday night, but the bar wasnt that much filled with people yet. The Aurora was like most of the bars : booths wer on each side, tables towards the middle, but still leaving enough room for people to dance. The bar was on the opposite from the entrance with barstools arround it, a smaller stage and karaoke machine on the left, basement/storage entrance on the right, with big TV above it. Since Jessy's brother Phil was the owner of Aurora, we had a booth waitng for us. We settled at our booth, and i got up to get us drinks, since they refused to let me chip in for the dinner. Dan decided its still too early for whiskey, but emphasised that at some point in the evening we're having it. Jessy just groaned at that, and i chuckled going to the bar ordering us beers. As i was waitig, a guy appeared behind the bar „Put this on the house, Dave. Cant let her pay for her first drink here.“ As i turned ,he winked at me, setteling down a box with bottles on the counter. „Hello, Phil.“ I smiled at him „And thansk for the drinks.“ He extended his hand towards me, and i did the same. He took it, moved it towards his lips, giving me one of those cavalier kiss on it „Hello, Maya, nice to finaly meet you.“ I felt a little heat coming to my cheeks. Phil really was a charmer, as i was told, especially from Jessy, but i must admit he wasnt bad looking. He had a long brown hair, mostly worn in a tail. His eyes wer dark brown, and he was tall and muscaline. He was wearing a white shirt with the Aurora written on it, wich just made his tattoos more noticable. I was a sucker for tattoos. „Do all girls get such a charming 'hello' from you here?“ i asked teasingly. He grinned devilishly „Just the special ones.“ „I got warned about you, trying to sweet talk me.“ I grinned back. „Can you blame me? I'm a sucker for a beautifull woman.“ I felt even more heat coming to my cheeks, and was greatfull the light wernt that bright, so noone would notice, especialy Phil. It felt good, being flirted like this, but i didnt want to give Phil any wrong ideas. I knew from Jessy that he was interested in me, and to be honest, if Jake was out of the picture, it might be different. „Thanks for the compliment! But, i have to warn you, i might not be a good choice.“ I said, making a serious face, leaning a bit closer towards him over the bar, wich made him do the same. „I was told i was reckles and out of control, kinda hard to handle, stressing people too much.“ He looked at me, that devilish spark in his eyes intensifieing „Well, Maya, maybe you just havent met your match..yet.“ „Maybe.“ I replied, leaning back, smile forming at the corner of my mouth. We just stared at eachother like that for a while, Phils gaze intensifing with each moment. I felt my heart starting to beat faster, and i was really confused about it. What was happening here? Ok, Phil was good looking, but Jake was the one i was longing for. Wasnt he? „Well, as much as i'm enjoying talking to you, i better get those beers over to my friends.“ He glanced towards our booth „You just might need some more beer.“ I turned to see what was it that he refered to, and saw the whole gang showed up while we wer talking. Including Jake. I was glad to see him, i didnt really think this was a place he would feel comfortable being at, but i supposed Hannah made him come. I heard from Jessy they wer spending much time together, the three of them, wich wasnt to be unexpected. He was their halfbrother after all, they wanted to get to know eacother better. And Hannah made him stay at her appartment since he came to Duskwood. And then i noticed Jake staring, but it wasnt me he was staring at, but Phil. Oh boy, i tought, can my life be simple for just one evening. I turned to Phil, sighing „I guess your right.“ I took the beers, slowely moving from the bar, walking backwards. „Oh, and i have a feeling i might need something stronger soon, so keep a glass close for me.“ I said skeptical, but Phil just grined and winked „I'll be right here with that glass ready.“

As i neared the booth, putting on my best smile, they all stood up cheering. I settled the beers on the table, Hannah embracing me in a tight hug, with Thomas grining behind her. „Its so good to finaly do this.“ She said. „Its good to see you , Hannah.“ I said, hugging her back. Hannah let go of me, and now it was Cleo's turn. „Dont you scare us like that anymore, you hear me!“ she scolded me before smiling „I promise.“ She let go of me, and they all sat back. I grabbe myself a chair from the table near us, since the booth was full now. As i sat down, i glanced at Jake. He smiled and nooded at me, and i smiled back. Lily was just siting there, barely sparing me a look. I tried not to take it too personal, from the begining she wasnt that much fond of me, and the feeling is mutual. „So, how are you feeling?“ Hannah asked me. „Oh, im much better, thanks for asking. Few more days and i'll be back to my old self.“ I told her, as a waiter, Dave , came to our booth, bringing five more beers. I turned towards the bar. Phil just winked at me, and continued about his business. I noticed Jake saw that also, his body tensing a bit. „Thats good to hear.“ Hannah siad, and Dan chimed in „I'll drink to that!“ raising his glass towards me. I got my glass and added cheerfuly to him „Me too!“ Now Lily finaly spoke „Good thing it ended as it did, we could all be drinking our sorrow instead.“ I tensed at her words, a bit of rage forming in me, but Hannah jumped in before i could say anything. „Lily, stop it. We are all aware of how things might ended, no need to emphasising it anymore.“ She sounded tired saying it, i got a feeling this wasnt the first time the two of them had a similar conversation. „Im sorry, Hannah“ Lily continued „but you know how i feel. Maya's actions could have terrible consequencess, and i dont see what is there to celebrate.“ „How about me being here, Lily? Is that good enough reason for you?“ Hannah asked, but Lily just sat there silently. I couldnt be quiet anymore. „Im sorry you feel that way Lily.“ I started. „I expected you to be more happy now that Hannah is back. Yes, i made some mistakes, i know. But we all do mistakes, Lily, you should know it all too well.“ She shot me such a angry look when i said it. It wasnt my intention to start a fight with her or anything, i knew all too well how badly all of it could have ended, but i was also tired of it being dragged out constantly. „My sister could have died!“ Lily basicly screamed, wich made few people arround us turn to see what was happening. „Lily, enough!“ Hannah started, but i really had enough, and my head started to hurt a bit now. „Your sister could have died eitherway, Lily“ i said basicly hissing at her „No matter what i might have or might have not done. At least i had the guts to act, and would do the same all over again if i had to, gladly. Luckily, things turned out for the better. You should be happy about it, and stop dwelling on the 'what if's'. If you cant do that, to just be happy you got your sister back, then for fuck sake i dont know what more to say to you.“ As i finished, you could feel the tension gathering around. „Sorry all, but i need something stronger to drink.“ I stood up going for the bar.

Phil came as i sat on one of the stools, rasing his eyebrow „My, my, you wernt wrong about needing that drink. So, whats your poison?“ he asked me grining. „Oh, whatever you grab first, as long as it washes the bitternes out.“ I said, feeling that rage not setteling, and my head throbing some more. He grabbed two shot glasses, pouring both with whiskey. „Dont mind if i join you.“ He said, rising one of the glasses. I grinned, taking my glass knocking it at his „Its no fun drinking alone, anyway!“ „Bottoms up!“ he chimed, and we exed our gasses. „One more, please, the bitter taste is still not washed completly.“ „Comming right up!“ he said cheerfuly, filled both again, and we drank those too. Someone patted me on my shoulder, and i turned to see Dan standing next to me. „Aww, Maya, you started without me.“ He said, being dramatic and acting hurt. „Aww, sorry Dan“ i said making a sad face „You cant really blame me, after all that just happened back there.“ „Point taken“ he said, sitting next to me. I turned towards the booth. Jessy, Cleo, Thomas and Hannah wer still there. I could see they didnt seem much affected by any of what just happened. But Lily was gone. And so was Jake. Great, i tought. The night began so nicely, i guess it was too good to last. „Well, Dan, feel free to join us now. The more, the merrier.“ I turned to Phil. „Barkeep, antoher glass for my 'nonjudgemental' friend here, please.“ Phil grinned, taking one more glass and filling them all again „The lady commands, the lady gets!“ Now the three of us chinned our glasses, and drank up. „Phil, i think you and I will be very good friends.“ I started „Since i assume you are not theirs most likable person of all time.“ i waved my hand towards the booth. „And i suppose as of now, i might join that club, too.“ Phil looked at me, a bit sirious „I told you once before, Maya. Everyone gets the exactly right ammount of respect from me as deserved. I dont bother with the tought if im 'likable' to someone or not. You dont mess with me, and i dont mess with you, its simple as that.“ „Amen to that!“ It was Dan, and both Phil and me looked at him, not really expecting it. I started laughing so hard „Oh, Dan, thanks, i needed this.“ „What?“ Dan looked at me, question marks written all over his face. Phil just shook his head, lowering it down, hiding himself smiling too, filling our glasses again, and drinking his up. „If you two would excuse me, i actually have some work to do.“ He winked at me as he left. „Be careful Maya, Phil is a player.“ Dan told me a bit serious. „Dont worry, Dan, i'm a big girl, i can take care of myself. So, tell me, how much am i hated at the moment amongst the others?“ i asked him. „Dont worry, Maya, nobody hates you, trust me. But you gotta understand Lily. She really was scared for Hannah, and she tought she was doing her best.“ He paused for a while before adding „Just like you did.“ I looked at Dan, and tought 'shit, he has a point there'. „Ah, crap, Dan, why you have to be so 'smartypants' all of a sudden?!“ He chuckled at me „Look, both of you did what you did, and it ended how it did. Even if you dont see it, you both expected the same result. Just your ways of trying to acomplish it wer totaly different. And thats where all hell broke loose.“ I knew Dan was right, but i tought Lily would be at least a bit happier for having Hannah back, and not to be all bitchy about it, clinging so tightly on all the things that could go wrong. „All right, enough with this serious talk. I tought we came here to drink.“ I started, but added quickly so Dan dont feel me being ungrateful „But, thanks Dan. I understand what you wanted to say to me. I will keep it in mind, for the next time.“ Dan smiled and noded at me. I took a sip of my whiskey, when there was another tap on my shoulder. It was Hannah „Hey, just wanted to say we're leaving. It was really nice seeing you, we should definatly do this again.“ She said, adding „When things cool down a bit.“ She gave me an appologetic look, „Yeah, definatly! And it was really nice seeing you two, Hannah.“ She hugged me „And dont take Lily by the heart, please. I know she can overreact sometimes, but she means well.“ „Dont worry, Hannah, i understand, its all good. Hope i wasnt too forward myself.“ Now i looked at her appologeticly. „Everything is good.“ She smiled „Take care, Maya, see you later.“ „Laters you two.“ I waved at Hannah and Thomas as they left. Cleao and Jessy joined us at the bar. „Uhh, that was fun.“ Cleo said. „Indeed. Not really my definition of a 'fun night' i expected.“ „Dont worry, Maya. Lily is just a hard person sometimes, a bit overprotective, too. She will calm down, eventualy.“ Cleo told me, to wich I replied a bit skeptical „ So everyone tells me.“ Phil came to us, taking two new glasses „C'mon you sad lot, enough with it. I tought we wer celebrating a 'new girl in town'!“ he said cheerfuly, winking at me, filling all the glasses up, handing one for Jessy and Cleo. Jessy groaned at it, scolding Phil „Ohh, dont encourage this two, Phil“ she said, pointing at Dan and me „I'm the one who will have to endure them for the rest of our evening, with all that whiskey in them. And we all know Dan and whiskey doesnt end well.“ „Hey babe, dont be like that!“ Dan said to her, in that dramatical and hurt way he does, making Cleo and me laugh. „See, it already started.“ Jessy said, leaning her elbovs on the bar, sighing sadly, now she trying to be dramatic. „Awwww babe, i promise i'll behave.“ Dan said, pecking her on the cheek. „You better behave..remember, im the one you're going home with.“ She told him, giving him one of her serious looks. Phil was just taking a sip of his drink, and hearing Jessy say it laughed so hard that he spat his drink out. Cleo and me laughed with him, but Dan looked at Jessy all pale„Yes, ma'am!“. I took my glass, raising it „Last one? Then we get beer again.“ Jessy looked at me „Deal!“, the rest of them taking their glasses and we drank. „That's it for me“ Cleo said „I'll be going now. Have to be early at the Gates of Hope tomorrow. And you all know how my mother can be if its not her way.“ She said shuddering a bit at it. „Ohh, we dont want to get Miranda cross at you, or any of us.“ Jessy said, giving Cleo a look of symphaty. Cleo hugged me „It was nice seeing you, Maya. We should definatly do this again, soon. And i promise i wont leave so early next time.“ „No worrys, Cleo, thanks for coming anyway.“ I said, smiling back at her. She waved us goodby and left. We ordered some beer then, as i promised Jessy no more whiskey. „Sorry, Maya, i really didnt think this will go so badly.“ Jessy looked at me appologeticaly. „Oh, dont sweat it, Jessy“ i grinned at her „Im having more fun with just the two of you, anyway.“ She grinned back, when Phil looked at me, making a sad face, mimicing Dan's hurt gesture „Awww, and what about me, i dont belong in this 'fun club'?“ I looked at him and winked „We have our special 'secret club', remember?“ That made Jessy switch her look from Phil too me, all puzzled, but Phil just grined devilishly at me, winking „We sure do.“ Jessy turned to Phil now, making a serious face, waving her finger at him „Phil, you better behave! Maya is not a 'toy' to play with and throw away after it.“ I jumped in, before Phil could say anything „Oh, dont worry, Jessy. Phil was nothing but a gentelmen towards me.“ Phil grined at her, makeing an aureola sign above his head with his hands, sugesting him being an angel. Jessy just snorted „Yeah, yeah, more like a 'devil in disguise'.“ „Im not sure who's the 'devil in disguise' here actualy.“ Phil said looking at me intensely, my cheeks flushing again.

#duskwood #duskwood aurora #duskwood phil #duskwood jessy #duskwood dan #duskwood fanfic

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seattlesea · 3 years

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Songs I Listen to While Writing Sorted by Genre/Type of Scene

(Some songs will be in more than one category)

Romance Scenes- we fell in love in october by girl in red Strawberries and Cigarettes by Troye Sivan Fool by Cavetown Call Me by 90sFlav Girls by girl in red 3AM by Finding Hope Dream Girl by Anna of the North Stay by Zedd & Alessia Cara Somebody To Tell Me by Tyler Glenn Secrets by One Republic Paris by The Chainsmokers Safe and Sound by Capital Cities Wild Heart by Bleachers A Thousand Years by Christina Perri Fire on Fire by Sam Smith Angel With a Shotgun by The Cab She Looks So Perfect by 5 Seconds of Summer Jet Pack Blues by Fall Out Boy Trade Mistakes by Panic! At The Disco When the Day Met the Night by Panic! At The Disco Moral of the Story by Ashe We Can’t Be Friends by Dream Koala Public Making Out Is Like Ugh by DNE Moon River by Audrey Hepburn Mystery of Love by Sufjan Stevens Alewife by Clairo Girls Like Girls by Hayley Kiyoko Futile Devices (Doveman Remix) by Sufjan Stevens Midnight Love by girl in red

Calm Scenes- Call Me by 90sFlav 5:32 by The Deli Crush by Esthie Coffee Breath by Sofia Mills Santa Monica Dream by Angus & Julia Stone Fool by Cavetown Golden Hour by Jonathon Morali Crosses by José González Death Bed by Powfu (Beat Only) 3AM by Finding Hope Waterloo Sunset by The Kinks Shy Girl by Kedam Counting Stars by One Republic Kaleidoscope Eyes by Panic! At The Disco She Had The World by Panic! At The Disco This Is Home by Cavetown Lua by Bright Eyes Sweater Weather by The Neighborhood Bedroom by Litany FLAMIN HOT CHEETOS by Clairo Will She Come Back by girl in red To All Of You by Syd Matters

Sad/Emotional Scenes- Obstacles by Syd Matters Runaway by Aurora Cancer by My Chemical Romance Unsteady by X Ambassadors State of Dreaming by MARINA Raquel y Sergio Juntos by Ivan M. Lacamera Coming Home by Falling in Reverse Spanish Sahara by Foals I’m Bad at Life by Falling in Reverse 7 Years by Lukas Graham Lost It All by Black Veil Brides Teen Idle by MARINA Hall of Fame by The Script Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish 21 Guns by Green Day Pirate Love Song by Black Heart Shatter Me by Lindsey Stirling Hide and Seek by Imogen Heap Dollhouse by Melanie Martinez The Light Behind Your Eyes by My Chemical Romance Helena (So Long and Goodnight) by My Chemical Romance Famous Last Words by My Chemical Romance I Don’t Love You by My Chemical Romance The Ghost of You by My Chemical Romance Bishop Knife Trick by Fall Out Boy Indomitable by Casey Lee Williams The End of All Things by Panic! At The Disco Always by Panic! At The Disco Impossible Year by Panic! At The Disco Dying in LA by Panic! At The Disco Northern Downpour by Panic! At The Disco Far Too Young To Die by Panic! At The Disco This Is Gospel by Panic! At The Disco House of Memories by Panic! At The Disco Moral of the Story by Ashe Reason to Stay by Sody Anchor by Novo Amor Sober II (Melodrama) by Lorde Mt. Washington by Local Natives Mountains by Message To Bears

Action/Fight Scenes- Finish Line by Skillet I Ran (Epic Trailer Version) by Hidden Citizens Another One Bites The Dust (Epic Trailer Version) by Hidden Citizens Back From the Dead by Skillet Never Give In by Black Veil Brides The Phoenix by Fall Out Boy DESTROYA by My Chemical Romance Warriors by Imagine Dragons Bella Ciao by Manu Pilas What’s Up Danger by Blackway & Black Caviar The Resistance by Skillet Feel Invincible by Skillet In The End by Black Veil Brides Days Are Numbered by Black Veil Brides Fallen Angels by Black Veil Brides Caffeine by Casey Lee Williams This Will Be The Day by Casey Lee Williams 300 Violin Orchestra by Jorge Quintero Radioactive by Imagine Dragons Ready Aim Fire by Imagine Dragons Silent Running (Epic Trailer Version) by Hidden Citizens I’d Love to Change the World (Matstubs Remix) by Jetta Tommy’s Theme by NOISIA The Sharpest Lives by My Chemical Romance Mama by My Chemical Romance My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark (Light ‘Em Up) by Fall Out Boy The Carpal Tunnel of Love by Fall Out Boy Young and Menace by Fall Out Boy

Happy/Fun Scenes- Tongue Tied by Grouplove Bang! by AJR 100 Bad Days by AJR Wasted by Tiësto 3 Nights by Dominic Fike City in a Garden by Fall Out Boy I Took a Pill in Ibiza (SeeB Remix) by Mike Posner Safe and Sound by Capital Cities Collar Full by Panic! At The Disco Ahead By a Century by The Tragically Hip American Idiot by Green Day Superhero by The Script Wild Things by Alessia Cara Here’s To Never Growing Up by Avril Lavigne Do It All The Time by I Don’t Know How But They Found Me Burn by Ellie Goulding Move To Miami by Enrique Iglesias & Pitbull Mad Hatter by Melanie Martinez King of the World by Young Rising Sons Bulletproof Heart by My Chemical Romance Na Na Na by My Chemical Romance Miss Missing You by Fall Out Boy Where Did The Party Go by Fall Out Boy Sunshine Riptide by Fall Out Boy Last of the Real Ones by Fall Out Boy Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) by Fall Out Boy Time To Dance by Panic! At The Disco Crazy=Genius by Panic! At The Disco The Overpass by Panic! At The Disco Roaring 20s by Panic! At The Disco Victorious by Panic! At The Disco LA Devotee by Panic! At The Disco Don’t Threaten Me With a Good Time by Panic! At The Disco Something Good by alt-j Hollywood by MARINA

Badass/Dark Scenes- Pretty Waste by Bones UK Bubblegum Bitch by MARINA Born For This by The Score Kings & Queens by Ava Max Castle by Halsey Caffeine by Casey Lee Williams Heaven Knows by The Pretty Reckless Joan of Arc by In This Moment Believer by Imagine Dragons Sand Storm by Apashe you should see me in a crown by Billie Eilish Power & Control by MARINA Fancy by Iggy Azalea Look What You Made Me Do by Taylor Swift Empire of Our Own by RAIGN Revolution by Unsecret & Ruelle Unstoppable by The Score Control by Halsey Gasoline by Halsey Tag, You’re It by Melanie Martinez Up In The Air by Thirty Seconds To Mars So What by P!NK Do It Like A Dude by Jessie J Ready For It? by Taylor Swift Teenagers by My Chemical Romance Centuries by Fall Out Boy I Don’t Care by Fall Out Boy Rat a Tat by Fall Out Boy Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea by Fall Out Boy Champion by Fall Out Boy Thnks fr the Mmrs by Fall Out Boy One Thing by Casey Lee Williams I May Fall by Casey Lee Williams This Life Is Mine by Casey Lee Williams Let’s Kill Tonight by Panic! At The Disco Girls/Girls/Boys by Panic! At The Disco The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty by Panic! At The Disco Mount Everest by Labrinth Legendary by Skillet Homewrecker by MARINA Modern Day Cain by I Don’t Know How But They Found Me

That One Vibin’ Scene- When I RIP by Labrinth Sweatin’ Somethin’ Awful by Okey Dokey Wasted by Tiësto Leave Me Alone by I Don’t Know How But They Found Me Piano Fire by Sparklehorse Blinding Lights by The Weeknd Good News by Ocean Park Standoff Hey There Delilah by Plain White T’s East of Eden by Zella Day Hazy Shade of Winter by The Bangles (or the Gerard Way cover) 5:15 by Bridgit Mendler Here by Alessia Cara Joan of Arc by In This Moment Mr. Doctor Man by Palaye Royale Cool For a Second by Yumi Zouma Counting Stars by One Republic Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood Ho Hey by The Lumineers We Can’t Be Friends by Dream Koala Public Making Out Is Like Ugh by DNE Sober II (Melodrama) by Lorde North by Sleeping at Last 400 Lux by Lorde No. 1 Party Anthem by Arctic Monkeys Still Don’t Know My Name by Labrinth Primadonna by MARINA dontmakemefallinlove by Cuco

That ‘Holy Shit I Can’t Believe That Just Happened’ Scene- All For Us by Labrinth (or the Zendaya version) Raquel y Sergio Juntos by Ivan M. Lacamera Forever by Labrinth Coming Home by Falling in Reverse Superheroes by Falling in Reverse (also works really well for cliffhanger-ending scenes) Carry On by Falling in Reverse The Thunder Rolls by Garth Brooks (if you don’t like country music, listen to the All That Remains cover) Zombie by The Cranberries Obstacles by Syd Matters Glory and Gore by Lorde Empire of Our Own by RAIGN When It’s All Over by RAIGN Hide and Seek by Imogen Heap

The Cinematic Teen Experience Scene- Amsterdam by Imagine Dragons Midnight City by M83 Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush (Meg Myers’ cover does better with the category though) Good News by Ocean Park Standoff Circles by Post Malone Rollercoaster by Bleachers Bad Idea! by girl in red Mr. Brightside by The Killers Fireflies by Owl City Undercover Martyn by Two Door Cinema Club Check Yes Juliet by We The Kings The Kids From Yesterday by My Chemical Romance I’m Not Okay by My Chemical Romance Fourth of July by Fall Out Boy Tip Toe by Imagine Dragons Someone To You by Banners Gone Gone Gone by Phillip Phillips Make You Mine by PUBLIC Out of my League by Fitz and The Tantrums Perks of Being a Sunflower by Soft Glas A World Alone by Lorde Wetsuit by The Vaccines Bored to Death by blink-182 There’s a Place by The All-American Rejects 18 by Anabor Mother by Smallpools Tompkins Square Park by Mumford and Sons 400 Lux by Lorde The Horse by Beach Fossils Ribs by Lorde Can I Call You Tonight? by Dayglow Hot Rod by Dayglow Marlboro Nights by Lonely God Under Stars by Aurora Sweet Disposition by The Temper Trap Do Not Wat by Wallows Cold Cold Man by Saint Motel Forget Her by girl in red Buzzcut Season by Lorde A World Alone by Lorde Time to Pretend by MGMT Kids by MGMT Bags by Clairo My Tears Are Becoming a Sea by M83 Talia by King Princess (or the girl in red cover) Maybe by girl in red

And yeah that’s all I have for now. If you want any other categories just ask cause I’ll probably make a part two anyways.

#writing #author #songs #music #vibes #the songs i listen to are so specific #they have to be the exact song during the exact scene #its crazy #writer

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twilitty · 3 years

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Moonlit ch.3

This is the third chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every two weeks. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.

3.4k words

previous chapter

This chapter was not read over by a beta reader, so if you notice any mistakes please let me know in a private message. If you are interested in reading my chapters early and having a hand in the editing process, please let me know via direct message :)

Charlie arrives home from the new doctors household in odd condition. Bella becomes acquainted with a new friend and gets her first driving lesson.

Chapter Three

There’s something oddly comforting about the loud, thunderous engine of my new truck. It successfully blocks out all the thoughts I hope to escape from, and it does so in a way that does not involve the incessant pattering of rain. In fact, it completely eliminates the sound of rain, a miracle I hadn’t thought possible. I can’t imagine I’ll ever manage to repay Jacob for this gift, it means so much more to me than a couple thousand dollars and a way to get around. It’s my escape.

Charlie had gotten back from the new doctor's household late last night, his eyes bleary with sleep and arms hanging limp by his sides in what can only be described as a dead mans walk. I was used to the posture he held, all slumped over and distracted, as if he had gone on a three day long bender and returned empty of adrenaline and a will to stay awake. Renee had come home from too many “spa-retreats'' with that same form. Dead mans walk, that’s what her friend had called it when I brought it up. “Dead on the outside but more alive than you’ve ever felt on the inside,” she had explained with a distant smile, “awful to watch but beautiful to live out.”

It was strange to see my father, the stoic police chief, in that position. Perhaps he enjoyed his time at the new doctors house more than he thought he would, perhaps he enjoyed it enough to come in looking prematurely hungover and drained of energy. I wonder if he was drinking, or dancing, or maybe the new family- I blink my eyes hard, squeezing out all the muted light coming from the kitchen window. Stars dance in front of my vision once I open them again. Don’t think of what Charlie was doing there, I tell myself viciously. Please, I add on as an afterthought, as though my subconscious was privy to social niceties.

The clock on the microwave reads noon hour and my heart stutters. Charlie is still upstairs, dead asleep. He’s the one that wakes me up in the morning, always dressed and with a cup of coffee. But, no, he’s probably just tired from his long shift yesterday and maybe a little hungover. Only a little. In fact, maybe less than a little, maybe he isn’t hungover at all.

Soon, by which I mean no less than two hours after my initial worry over my fathers condition, he emerges from his bedroom and I can hear his footsteps lead into the bathroom. Good, I think, he’s awake before three in the afternoon. That must count for something. Perhaps- My thoughts, aimlessly trying to convince my subconscious that there is no reason for me to worry about the state of my middle-aged father, are interrupted.

“Bella?” Charlie calls quietly from the top of the stairs. He sounds like he just woke up from a long night out. Hangover voice is something I am very familiar with, although not from first hand experience. Any solace I had reached seconds ago comes crashing down into a pile at my feet.

I clear my throat, “Down here!” He comes down, feet stepping lightly on each step so as to barely make a noise. He enters the kitchen with a weary look on his face, as if I’m the one acting out of character. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing up so early?” He asks incredulously. I look at the time in the bottom corner of my computer, nearly two in the afternoon. I look back up at him with my eyebrows pinched.

“Char- Dad, it’s after noon.” My fathers eyes go wide, the whites showing prominently before squeezing down into a harsh blink. He turns to the microwave and his eyes blink violently again. “Dad?”

He doesn’t say anything, but his hands come together at the top of his head, interlacing over the brown hair he passed onto me. “I- I’m getting to work. I’ll see you for dinner.” He mumbles his words, the syllables pouring out into the air without any order. He retreats back upstairs with little more than a squeak on the floorboards, his eyebrows thick over his eyes with worry. The shower turns on quickly and I look back to my computer screen. I have to do some school work, Charlie is a grown man who can take care of himself.

I brew him a fresh pot of coffee, putting the creamer out on the counter even though I know he takes it black.

One of my favourite things about Forks, besides my new truck, is the ever present gloom that seems to permeate any mood you had prior to stepping outdoors. It’s like living in a depressive gothic novel written in nineteenth century England. Obsessively torturing the protagonist with dramatic metaphors and the blatant use of personification with inanimate objects like lampshades and tea kettles. I walk outside and my brain fills with run-on sentences about the state of my personal emotional evolution or the true crime of humanity being the amount of introspection that we would require to understand it. Almost compulsively, I assess my morals and the ethical value of my actions as if the rain draws out my inner philosopher. It’s dramatic and moody and unpleasant to experience.

Yet, I find myself drawn into this trance of deep inner thought and revel in it.

This is what I am doing when I park outfront of The Diner and walk through the front doors. My mind is occupied with drawn out thoughts that sound closer to Shakespeare than a girl who is barely passing her summer courses. My footfalls seem to almost perfectly fall in tune with my thoughts. I wonder if I’m walking funny, I think suddenly with a pointed look at my awkward steps. This is an issue with spending so much time alone in such a gloomy town; you forget other people exist. I pick up the pace of my footfalls and try to let my legs work naturally, but now that I’m aware of my walking I am incapable of walking naturally and feel like an oaf.

It is while I am walking like an oaf that someone calls out, “Isabella Swan?” My shoulders tense up to my earlobes and suddenly my feet are capable of walking without direction and almost steer me back through the front doors. Instead, I look up from my rough boots and meet the smile of the girl standing behind the counter cutting the large room in half. I try to ignore the stares of the other patrons.

The girl standing behind the counter looks to be about twenty and has brown hair just past her shoulders, similar to mine except for the fact that hers is shiny with the indication of product and care. A wave of self consciousness rolls over my shoulders, my dull, limp hair is suddenly as bright as a neon sign in the dead of night. “Bella,” I correct her, forcing myself to step up to the counter. “Everybody calls me Bella.”

She nods knowingly, as if she’s heard this before but just wanted it confirmed. Another wave of self consciousness crashes over me as the possibility of small town gossip arises. Does everybody already know who I am? I don’t like the thought of Charlie telling the town his eccentric ex-wife's daughter is coming to live with him, even if he said it politely.

“Yeah, that makes sense. Isabella is kinda a mouthful and takes like three whole syllables just to say it.” She shoots a hand across the laminate countertop and exposes a line of white, straight teeth. “I’m Jessica, not Jess,” She clarifies with a sarcastic eye roll. I take her hand, warm and soft, in my own and give it a polite shake before letting go. “Nobody calls me Jess, it sounds like it’s short for Jessie and when I think Jessie I think either golden retriever or blonde surfer dude and I am so not either of those things.”

“Jessica’s pretty,” I say with possibly a little too much enthusiasm. I haven’t spoken to someone as bubbly as this girl since Phoenix and I am poorly out of practice.

“She is, isn’t she?” A male voice calls from my right. It’s as if Jessica had spoken it into existence, because suddenly a blond surfer dude- minus the surfer- is sitting only three stools over.

“No, no,” my face flames and I quickly raise my hands in surrender. “I meant her name.” Then, looking at Jessica I see she’s chewing on her bottom lip and her dark eyebrows are scrunched down. I wonder if she practiced this expression in the mirror, it looks too perfect to be impromptu. “I mean, not that you aren’t pretty,” I clarify and her eyebrows shoot up as the blonde boy snorts. “I mean-” But Jessica raises a hand to stop me from torturing myself any further and drops the lip from between her teeth. “Listen, Bella, I know what you mean you don’t have to run in circles.” She says it in a way that insinuates I’m not the first person to fall into this situation with her. “You aren’t the first girl I’ve wooed with my tragically good looks.” This is not what I expected. The blonde boy snorts again but it sounds more like incredulity than a laugh. I open my mouth to interject, though I’m not sure what I will say, and Jessica widens her eyes at me. “Bella, girl, I’m joking.”

My mouth widens into an uncomfortable smile that likely looks closer to a grimace. She shakes her head at me with an expression that reads oh Bella even though we’ve only just met. I get the impression that Jessica is an easy person to be friends with and also decide that I will be coming to The Diner more often. “Now,” She says, “What did you order?”

I recite my order and she pushes open the swinging doors adorned with old license plates and bumper stickers to retrieve it.

“I’m Mike.” This is from the blonde boy, and he says it with a small wave that very much so indicates that he has lived in this town his whole life. People in big cities, people in Phoenix, don’t wave like that. It’s too small and kind and friendly, there isn’t enough neutrality for him to be from a big city. He’s inviting me into a conversation with the impression that I want to be invited. Small towns and sickly rom coms are the only places where this happens.

“Bella,” I respond, although he must already have heard me introduce myself to Jessica earlier. “It’s nice to meet you.” I tack on the last part in a likely failed attempt to come across as if I belong. It’s not that I want to be nice or friendly like Mike, it’s just that this will be far less awkward if I at least try to fit in.

“Likewise.” We lapse into a comfortable silence, or at least he appears to be comfortable in the silence. I am not. My blood seems to have congealed in my veins and is refusing to pump itself into my heart. Am I getting enough oxygen? Yes, yes, I am getting enough oxygen. I know this, but my body does not know this and so instead of trying to formulate some clever comment I try to level out my breathing and suck in as much as possible without seeming weird.

Three uneven breaths later and Jessica pushes out of the kitchen doors holding a large brown bag with a receipt stapled to the folded lip. She places it in front of me and I take a deep breath, suddenly grateful that my lungs are working and for the delicious smelling food. “I’ll pay with debit?” I don’t mean for it to sound like a question but it does. I can almost hear my mother scolding me, you need to be more assertive. You get stepped on if you’re too polite. I know she’s right but I ignore her anyway.

“No need, already paid for,” she says with a wide smile. “The cook says hi.” I take it, then, that the cook is the one who paid for my dinner.

“Oh, really that wasn’t necessary.” I produce my debit card from my pocket, holding it out as if it’s perfect evidence of my ability to pay. “I have money.”

“If you really wanna make it up to me I can take your number.” Renee would like Jessica, she’s assertive. I shake my head a little but still take out my phone and hand it to her. She punches in her number quickly, perfect nails tapping lightly on the screen before handing it back. Her own phone beeps. “Have a nice night, Bella! Text me whenever.”

I say goodbye to Mike and he waves kindly, almost immediately afterwards turning to talk to Jessica. They wave as I leave and I can feel the eyes of The Diner on my back as I leave the building and enter my truck.

It’s almost two days until I get a chance to talk with my mother, and within those days I accomplish more than one would expect of a girl who is so well acquainted with procrastination. Namely, I received a text message from Jessica. We conversed lightly, her with heavy use of emojis and me with improper use of punctuation and perhaps not enough enthusiasm. I know this because almost immediately after I send her my reaction to a movie she watched she calls me.

“Bella,” she says in a tone that insinuates both exasperation and light humour. “I swear, girl, you are so hard to read.”

“I know, my grammar-”

“No, no,” she cuts me off. “I mean I have no idea if you even wanna talk to me or not.” I’m shocked into silence, of course I want to talk to her. I enjoy talking to her. It seems I’ve been severely lacking in the friends department and it’s no recent issue. Ever since Phoenix I’ve remained forcibly independent, it’s nice to have people my age to talk to.

“I- I can use more emojis?” It comes out a question and my mother is back in my head, assertive assertive assertive. Jessica gives a triumphant laugh and I get the impression that this was her goal all along. “Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll try to communicate better.”

She just laughs and we hang up and continue texting, but not before she informs me that we will have to set up a schedule to meet in person. Apparently even with emojis in my armoury I am “more fun” in person. Who would have thought?

Within the two days before I call my mother I also get my first driving lesson with Jacob Black. He drives over in his fathers old truck, which he can no longer use due to the wheelchair. Jacob informs me of this with a smile that tells me he’s inherited the truck.

He bounces out of the vehicle with a giant grin on his face and his hands clasped excitedly behind his back. I could all but feel the excitement radiating off of him in waves. He had come prepared too, as I later found out, when he inserted a CD into my cars radio system. Soft rock echoed sweetly throughout the cab and Jacob drummed his fingers over his knees. “You gotta love ‘em, right?” He asked redundantly. I nodded, not knowing who I had to love or why, but just enjoying sitting next to him and listening to him talk.

He walked me through the gear shift. It sticks when you move directly from park to reverse, so I should always pause on drive for a moment first. We practice this in the driveway a few times before taking to the residential streets. We mostly talk during the drive, him giving me all the Rez gossip and me providing him with the meek details of my online school experience and my conversations with Jessica.

“She’s really nice,” I tell him as the trucks engine growls loudly at the stop light. “Loud, but loud in a nice way.” He nods in the passenger seat as if he completely understands, which I do not find difficult to believe. I wouldn’t be surprised if everybody in town was his friend.

“Yeah, I know a few people like that.” I’m proven correct. “Like there are just so many things going on inside them they can’t contain it.” I nod absently but my mind shifts to the first part of Jacobs comment. I wonder how many friends he has? I can’t imagine he’s unpopular, or even shy, he’s just too exciting and fun. His smile makes me want to smile.

“What?” He enunciates slowly with a slow head turn. I look away quickly, my eyes steadily focused on the bumper in front of us. I didn’t mean to stare at him.

“Nothing.”

“No, what?” I pull into the next lane, making sure to check over my shoulder twice. Maybe if I don’t pay attention to him, maybe if I just ignore- “Is there something on my face?”

I look over, baited into meeting his eyes. A big palm runs over his mouth and he pulls it back as if to inspect it for markings. “No,” I assure him. “There’s nothing on your face.” Then, my lips widen as if with a mind of their own, and suddenly I’m grinning. “I mean other than-”

He guffaws out a laugh before I can finish my comment and looks over at me with a smile mirroring my own. “Bella Swan, were you about to make a joke?” I shoot him a half-hearted glare and realize that this is all too easy with him. Jacob is like an overactive puppy, so easy to excite and quick to make you smile. I also realize that I seem to really enjoy the company of this particular overactive puppy.

“I make jokes plenty of times,” I retort with a quick glance in my rearview mirror. The houses have transitioned into a tree line and the previously residential road boasts a higher speed limit. “You most definitely do not. I remember being kids, you were always the sensible one.” My heart skips and my field of vision narrows to the space above the steering wheel. The road is slick with rain, I doubt I’ll ever see it dry. “You used to ask Charlie to put bandaids in your little backpack, just in case…” his words continue, detailing how mature I was for a first grader. I made decisions way past my age and was the first one to disinfect surface cuts and scrapes. I was the only one to disinfect bloody knees and palms, even though the sight made me sick. “It was like you just had to take care of everybody else.”

He looks over to me, I can see him in my peripheral vision, but instead of looking back I force my lips into an open smile. I hope it comes across as genuine. “I had a thing for first aid.” It’s a poor response. Anybody could see through my shallow sentence and many people would call me out on it. Tell me that for a girl with such a large vocabulary it’s odd for me to suddenly have nothing to say. For a girl who claims to enjoy this boys company I seem to be going out of my way to deter him from ever calling me again.

“Take a left up here,” Jacob says and his hand juts out to point at a beaten gravel road. It cuts into the forest at a haggard angle which makes it nearly impossible to maneuver, but I do so with more than minimal effort and release a heavy breath once we are on it. “Okay, now try to merge back onto the road.”

“What?” The odd, and clearly impossible, request pulls me out of my self-pitying thoughts. “Jake-”

“If you can’t do it that’s fine, just switch seats and I’ll drive.” The devilish glint in his eyes provokes some deep, hidden piece of me that craves competition.

“You just miss Betty,” I say with perhaps a little too much vindication. He doesn’t seem bothered either way and simply shrugs his large shoulders, the russet skin reflecting the light of another car's headlights as it passes on the main road.

“Yeah, I do.”

taglist:

@musingsofvenus @maybesandohnos

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ilaria · 3 years

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i took this test for ria and i’m actually losing it over how accurate it is

her top result was santana lopez at 90% and some others that i felt were also peak ria were: mazikeen, barbara keen, louise belcher, azula, veronica lodge, CHARLOTTE HALE, malory archer, and eleanor shellstrop ,,,, i think i also saw sue sylvester so im screaming LMAO the top 100 ish are under the cut

Santana Lopez (Glee): 90%

Beth Dutton (Yellowstone): 88%

Faye Valentine (Cowboy Bebop): 87%

Alex Vause (Orange is the New Black): 87%

Prudence Night (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina): 87%

Mazikeen (Lucifer): 87%

Barbara Kean (Gotham): 87%

Cheryl Blossom (Riverdale): 86%

Scarlett O'Hara (Gone With the Wind): 86%

Wichita (Zombieland): 86%

Kim Ki-jung (Parasite): 86%

Ramona Vega (Hustlers): 86%

Jessie (Pokémon): 86%

Petra Solano (Jane the Virgin): 86%

Cersei Lannister (Game of Thrones): 85%

Maeby Funke (Arrested Development): 85%

Villanelle (Killing Eve): 85%

Amy Elliott Dunne (Gone Girl): 85%

Tokio (Money Heist): 85%

Selina Kyle (Gotham): 85%

Freddie Lounds (Hannibal): 84%

Mystique (X-Men): 84%

Louise Belcher (Bob's Burgers): 84%

Gemma Teller Morrow (Sons of Anarchy): 84%

Erica Sinclair (Stranger Things): 84%

Azula (Avatar: The Last Airbender): 83%

The Joker (The Dark Knight): 83%

Regina George (Mean Girls): 83%

Veronica Lodge (Riverdale): 83%

Shiv Roy (Succession): 83%

Ursula (The Little Mermaid): 83%

Regina Mills (Once Upon a Time): 83%

Zelena (Once Upon a Time): 83%

Tyler Durden (Fight Club): 82%

Maeve Millay (Westworld): 82%

Charlotte Hale (Westworld): 82%

Number Six (Battlestar Galactica): 82%

Don Draper (Mad Men): 82%

Audrey Horne (Twin Peaks): 82%

Catherine Martell (Twin Peaks): 82%

Evelyn Harper (Two and Half Men): 82%

Wendy Byrde (Ozark): 82%

Sue Sylvester (Glee): 82%

Annalise Keating (How To Get Away With Murder): 82%

Blair Waldorf (Gossip Girl): 82%

Lily (Black Swan): 82%

Thomas Leroy (Black Swan): 82%

Wyldstyle (The Lego Movie): 82%

Jennifer Check (Jennifer's Body): 82%

Stormfront (The Boys): 82%

Samantha Jones (Sex and the City): 81%

Tyra Collette (Friday Night Lights): 81%

Edie Britt (Desperate Housewives): 81%

Chuck Bass (Gossip Girl): 81%

Selina Meyer (Veep): 81%

Frank Costello (The Departed): 81%

Robin Scherbatsky (How I Met Your Mother): 81%

Rhett Butler (Gone With the Wind): 81%

Miranda Priestly (The Devil Wears Prada): 81%

Berlin (Money Heist): 81%

Lady Macbeth (Macbeth): 81%

Jan Levinson (The Office): 80%

Kate Austen (LOST): 80%

Quark (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine): 80%

Elim Garak (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine): 80%

Loki (Marvel Cinematic Universe): 80%

Lady Mary Crawley (Downton Abbey): 80%

Dolores Abernathy (Westworld): 80%

Joan Holloway (Mad Men): 80%

Jordan Baker (The Great Gatsby): 80%

Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn Nine-Nine): 80%

Mia Wallace (Pulp Fiction): 80%

Gabrielle Solis (Desperate Housewives): 80%

Mary Wardwell (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina): 80%

Damon Salvatore (The Vampire Diaries): 80%

Kalinda Sharma (The Good Wife): 80%

Malory Archer (Archer): 80%

Ari Gold (Entourage): 80%

Beth Harmon (The Queen's Gambit): 80%

Summer Finn ((500) Days of Summer): 80%

Aunt Polly (Peaky Blinders): 80%

Olenna Tyrell (Game of Thrones): 79%

Robert California (The Office): 79%

Thomas Barrow (Downton Abbey): 79%

April Ludgate (Parks and Recreation): 79%

Mal Cobb (Inception): 79%

the Alien (Alien): 79%

Elaine Benes (Seinfeld): 79%

Lucille Bluth (Arrested Development): 79%

Eleanor Shellstrop (The Good Place): 79%

Octavia Blake (The 100): 79%

Alexander Hamilton (Hamilton): 79%

Ivar Ragnarsson (Vikings): 79%

The Queen (Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs): 79%

Dennis Reynolds (It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia): 79%

Harvey Specter (Suits): 79%

Fleabag (Fleabag): 79%

Carol 'Mom' Miller (Futurama): 79%

Daenerys Targaryen (Game of Thrones): 78%

Margaery Tyrell (Game of Thrones): 78%

#╰ ❝ . * so i murder love in the night ‚ dash games.#THI S IS ACTUALLY SO FUN #BC IT'S LIKE #MY TYPE

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scotianostra · 4 years

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On September 26th 1994 Jessie Kesson, the author of Another Time Another Place, died.

Born Jessie Grant McDonald in a workhouse in Inverness, Jessie spent her early childhood in an Elgin slum. Aged 10, she was taken from her mother and put into an orphanage for the next six years. After school, a period of varied jobs and accommodation led to a nervous breakdown and a year in Aberdeen Royal Mental Hospital.

At 19, Jessie was 'boarded out' (or fostered) from the hospital to an old woman near Loch Ness. She rejoiced in her freedom and the beauty of her new surroundings. During this time, she met Johnnie Kesson, her future husband. They had two children and moved to London in the 1950s.

Kesson held a wide variety of jobs, including Woolworth's shop assistant, life model, BBC Radio producer, drama teacher, and working night shifts in a children's care home.

She worked full-time until she was 60 years old, and continued her writing career throughout this time. By the 1950s, Kesson was regularly published in Scottish periodicals and had written several radio plays. In an interview Jessie once said ' I've never felt I would write the great big novel. I've aye wanted to write the sma' perfect!' Kesson gathered a number of notable friends throughout her life, including publishers, agents and fellow writers. Her friends included great Nan Shepherd, Flora Garry, Lisa St Aubin de Terán, Cecil Day Lewis and Neil Gunn. She also maintained many lifelong friendships from her early days in north-east Scotland.

She died in 1994, and her ashes were scattered with her husband's on the banks of Loch Ness near where they first met.

As well as her books Jessie's work was most notably made into a film, Another Time, Another Place, in 1983, starring Phylis Logan, Tom Watson and Gregor Fisher, and The White Bird Passes, was adapted for TV in 1980, she also wrote over 100 plays for radio.

A poem by Jessie Kesson, written in March 1973 when she lived in East Linton, East Lothian. A list D. Girl, or boy for that, got the name from where social workers placed a child who was seen to be a problem, getting in trouble with the authorities or possibly fighting at school etc would have been causes for them to be placed in these schools, which were residential, another name for them would be Approved Schools, my own brother ended up spending time in one of these, St Josephs in East Lothian.

Moment of Communication with List D. Girl.

F - - - off! she said. Dismissing me and my persuasions with a contemptuous stare that crinkled to a smile of small surprise When I in anger roared F - - - off to Where??

Sincerely, Jessie Kesson

#Scotland #scottish #Author #poet #History

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thedivinecommaarbitrage · 4 years

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Waiting for Lightning - Chp 1

I Remember Days When I Was Younger

AO3

Beauregard Lionett, junior at the University of the Cobalt Soul and star of the track team attended every 6 AM weekend practice hungover. She said it was her secret weapon. The added pain from the pounding headache gave her an edge. (And turned her on a little, though she'd only admitted that to Fjord while quite tipsy.) This morning was no different, except the women's rugby team was practicing on the indoor field the warmup track circled. Beau was mid-stretch, jamming to her tunes, and checking out the women on the field, a state of being she rather enjoyed.

Now Beau considered herself a bit of a Casanova. She had slept her way through most of the girls on the track team, and the soccer team, and half the sorority girls she partied with if she was being honest. So, she was sizing up the rugby team, looking for her next one-night stand when she saw the most striking woman.

Running drills across the field was a Norse goddess. A tall, muscular woman with hair that went from black to white tied back in a loose mess of braids. Beau couldn't see her eyes from this distance, but she had dark makeup all smudged around them. Beau could appreciate that aesthetic since she normally sported day old, messy eyeliner. The mystery woman also had a blue line inked from her lower lip down her chin and neck. Beau bit her lip wondering how far down that line went. Beau was so caught up in ogling the woman that she didn't notice Dairon was behind her until they smacked the backside of her head.

"Get your head out of the gutter, Lionett, and get on the track. It's time for training, not drooling over the other athletes." The assistant coach was already walking away before Beau could react.

"Hey! My head's here in the game, Dairon. I know what I'm doing. I'm the best for a reason, okay. Lay off for a minute, will ya?" Beau said as she stood up and jogged after her coach. Dairon had taken an interest in Beau during her freshman season on the team. They were a total hardass, and Beau would never admit it, but she would have washed out without their help. "I'll do my laps, okay. You don't have to tell me twice." And she took off before Dairon could continue telling her off.

Beau ran her laps, with her music turned up loud enough to compete with the sound of blood pumping in her head. Right now, it was Joan Jett. She kept stealing glances at that woman as she played on the field. Beau didn't know much about rugby, but she could still tell that the woman was good. She hadn't ever had the ball, but she had made successful tackles against most of the players who had possession of the ball. That woman was all muscle and ferocity, taking down opponents left and right. It was really fucking hot.

Unfortunately, the rugby team's practice ended before the track team's. Beau watched the woman quietly gather up her things and head to the locker rooms, not talking with any of the other players. Surprisingly, off the field, the woman seemed demure and reserved, compared to the powerhouse she was on the field. Beau only focused back in on her laps once the woman was fully out of sight.

“Lionett,” Dairon called to Beau as she walked away from the track at the end of practice. “Meet me at 10:00 in the practice room for more training. It’s been awhile, and I’m worried you’ve gotten rusty.” They turned on their heel and marched away before Beau could respond.

“Great, yes, Dairon, that fits perfectly in my schedule. Thanks for asking. You’re such a considerate coach.” Beau said to Dairon’s retreating back. She sighed and continued on to the locker room. She was already feeling the laps in her legs and more training with Dairon would just hurt more.

When Dairon had first taken an interest in Beau, she had been rather angry and troubled. She was getting into fights with her teammates and was close to being kicked off the team before they stepped in. Dairon had taken her to a small practice room and said, “Take a swing. Try and hit me. Take your anger out here, off the field.” So, Beau took a wild swing. Dairon easily sidestepped, so fast Beau didn’t even notice, and then followed up with a slap to the side of Beau’s head. “You’re sloppy, directionless. You need discipline and order. Again.” Beau swung out again, and Dairon raised their hand in an effortless block. “Better, but you’re still miles away. Try again.” Beau yelled in frustration. Why was her coach doing this? She closed her eyes and breathed out through her nose and took one more wild swing. To her surprise, this one connected with something soft, and she felt a small crack. Beau opened her eyes to see Darion staring back at her in shock, blood gushing from their nose.

“Oh my god, did I break your nose? Fuck, that’s cool. Ah, I mean, shit, fuck. Are you gonna kick me off the team?” Beau’s sudden joy at landing a blow on her coach was crushed as she remembered the reality. She had punched a school official, fuck.

Dairon lightly touched the side of their nose and laughed. “That was good. A little wild, but when you focused, and let your anger slide away, you connected. You have potential, Lionett. And no, I’m not going to kick you off the team. I’m going to teach you to fight, properly, with restraint and focus.”

Beau stood there, shocked. Fighting training? All she had wanted as a kid was for her dad to enroll her in karate or any martial arts, but he had refused on account of it being improper for a girl to learn to fight. “Really? What, that’s so cool! I can’t wait to punch things so good. This is gonna be sick,” Beau said, looking at her fists. She already felt so much cooler.

“It’s not something ‘cool’ or something to be taken lightly. You need control and composure if you’re going to be successful on the team. It’s about discipline. Remember that, Beauregard.” Dairon opened the door to the practice room. “Every day after practice, we will meet for another hour, and you will learn. Now, get out of here.” With that Dairon turned on their heel and walked off down the hall. Beau was left standing, still in shock, feeling like her world had been shifted.

Beau slammed the door to her dorm open and tossed her gym bag in the general direction of her closet. "Morning, Jessie!" She called as she strode across the room to flip down in her roommate's bean bag.

"Beau, why do you have to be so loud? It's the morning. It's time for sleeping. Do you even sleep, Beau?" Her roommate, Jester, groaned as she rolled away from Beau.

"But, Jess, I brought pastries." Beau held up the paper bag, emblazoned with the emblem of The Slayer's Cake, the most popular bakery in Zadash.

"Pastries?" Jester squealed and snatched the bag out of Beau's hand before leaping back onto her bed. "Beau, you're the best roommate ever. Thank you!" She rummaged through the bag. "And you got my favorite blueberry muffins? You really are the best."

Ah, it was nothing really. The on-campus store is in between here and the track." It really wasn't, but Beau loved making Jester happy. She was the best friend that Beau had ever had. (Though she would punch out anyone who accused her of being soft like that.) “Come on, eat your sweets, I’ve got to meet Dairon again in a couple hours and we have to study with Fjord before then.”

Beau had met her wild roommate on move in day freshman year. She'd driven herself to school in her shitty, old Toyota Camry because her parents couldn't be bothered to give a shit about their only kid leaving for college. Her brother was born less than a year later, and Beau stopped wondering why they never gave a shit about her anymore. She had finally made it to her dorm to find a bubbly, little blue tiefling decorating one side of the room in pink, frilly things, and a tall, buff minotaur standing guard, arms folded. “Hey, ummm, I’m Beau. Your roommate, I guess.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Jester. And this is Bluud. He’s harmless. Bluud, get out of her way, so she can unpack. I can’t wait to be the best of friends. I’m an art major. What are you studying?” The tiefling, Jester, bombarded her with even more questions while they set up their room and ran out to get more supplies at the local Target. Beau was sure she was going to hate Jester, but after a few hours, they were good friends. And by the time they went to bed, Jester declared them to be best friends forever. They had been roommates ever since, so for now, Jester’s declaration was holding true. Beau couldn’t picture anyone else putting up with her shit, and no one else could handle Jester’s specific brand of wild.

“Hey, Jess, I saw this cool chick at track this morning. She was practicing with the rugby team, and I’ve never seen her before. She had this really goth look with black and white hair and a chin tattoo. Have you seen her?” Beau began changing out of her running clothes into a different cut off t-shirt and sweats.

“Oh, I think you’re talking about Molly’s new roommate. She just moved here from another school; I think. Her name is Yasha. I saw her briefly when I was at Molly’s last weekend.” Jester turned back to her vanity to finish putting on her makeup for the day. “She didn’t really talk, but yeah she looks really cool and really strong. Did you see her arms? Like, so nice.”

“Yeah, she was a powerhouse on the field,” Beau turned away from Jester to hide her excited expression. Jester knew who she was, and she was Molly’s friend. Beau and Molly may not always get along, but they still hung out with the same people. Beau would have a chance to meet her, to meet Yasha, then. “Yasha…” Beau murmured. The name was beautiful and strangely fitting for the woman she had watched on the practice field. Beau blushed as she thought about her. Beau was going to talk to her. Get her number. Maybe even court her. That last thought made her laugh; Beau hadn’t ever courted anyone. But that muscular, goth woman made her want to try, and Beau would try anything at least once.

#fic #my writing #critical role #beauyasha #beauregard x yasha #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #jester lavorre #crit role #college au #giving writing another shot #this will sporadically updated #if you're my irl friends (you know who you are) this isn't for you

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 4 years

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two years too late, chapter t h i r t e e n

It wasn’t the first time you’d said too much to Harry in a bathroom. Admitting that you had feelings for him the second time wasn’t as terrible as the first, so if anything, you’d take that as a positive.

Bryn handed you the beer you’d placed on the coffee table before she picked up her phone to change the song. When you folded your legs beneath you on the couch, she spoke.

“Remember Leah Putney?” A few nods from the others. “She’s pregnant.”

Adam shrugged, “shocking, innit?”

“Why’s that shocking?” Jessie asked.

“She seemed quite timid in high school! Now she’s knocked up before the rest of us?”

Jessie rolled her eyes, elbows pointing towards the sky as she fastened her hair in a bun on top of her head. “Didn’t one of you make out with her at the cinema in Year 7?”

Harry let out a snort, eyes looking up quickly to see if anyone would rat him out.

“He did,” Jake nudged his chin towards Harry. “Wouldn’t should up about it for months.”

“It was my first experience with tongue!” He defended.

“S’disgusting,” Bryn seemed to chastise. “We were children.”

“Oh relax, Mother Theresa,” Harry shot back. “I seem to remember you getting caught with pictures of naked women in your sock drawer at the ripe age of 15.”

“A closeted girl’s gotta live,” she raised her beer in the air, eliciting a laugh to fill the room.

Alyssa--who’d only gotten home shortly before the lot of you--emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her wet hair.

“Got you a beer,” Harry held up the still-full bottle that sat in front of him on the coffee table, an obvious attempt to prove his virtue.

“Thanks,” she said, her tone communicating the hesitance she felt. She’d complained earlier that morning about how tough it was. She was mad at him, sure--but she also thought you should hear him out and talk things through. She disappeared into her bedroom to dress.

“M’grabbing coffee with a guy for work next week,” you said suddenly, a casual attempt to gauge Harry’s interest. “Said he works with a social media firm.”

“What for? Like, a new job?” Adam asked.

“No,” you said. “Just a networking thing. He was the guy at the airport?”

“Hold on,” Jessie put her phone down and seemed suddenly interested. “The one with the hat and the scruff and the amazing smile?”

You let out a laugh, grateful for her excitement--almost as if she knew more than she did and had been planted to say exactly that, stirring up jealousy in Harry when he pulled his eyes over to you.

“Yes, that one--his name is Patrick. Think he goes by Pat, though--his twitter says Pat.”

“Pat,” Bryn raised her eyebrows. “So will he just help you be more cool on the internet?”

“I think so--I mean, social media strategy and planning, probably. I dunno. I have no information other than the name of his company.”

“S’exciting, though,” Jake offered. “Always good to network.”

Jessie leaned forward, a devilish grin on her face when she wiggled her eyebrows up at you. “Maybe it’ll become a date!”

Harry picked up his phone, scrolling through something to seemingly distract from Jessie’s comment. His forehead wrinkled, a finger tugging at his lip.

You rolled your eyes. “Probably won’t become a date, but, he’s cute.”

Jessie let out another excited noise, reaching over to pat you on the leg. Harry took it as a cue to change the topic.

“So what’s the actual birthday plan, then? I’ve got a few things to do tomorrow but I can try to be done early.”

“Let’s go to a club tomorrow night,” Bryn leaned forward, looking up at you from the ground. “I would definitely make out with American girls.”

“I know you would,” you patted her head. “We don’t have to do that though, I don’t really care what we do. You said you wanted to do the Met,” you reminded her.

“The Metropolitan Museum of Art is not how people are supposed to celebrate birthdays,” Jessie teased. “Don’t you want to be off your face and making out with hot guys?”

“I’m alright,” you nodded, a reassuring look promised that you’d live. “I’d seriously rather just go to the museum and do dinner or something. We can totally go to a nice bar for drinks.”

“Really not feeling the club scene?” Jake rested his elbows on his knees when he waited for a response.

“A club?” Alyssa reappeared from her bedroom. “Are we going to a club?”

“No! They’re not the same here!” You replied. “Girls are mean and they’re loud and crowded.”

“Girls are mean?” This seemed to deflate Bryn.

“If you look at someone the wrong way here they’ll tell you to fuck off,” Alyssa informed, coming to sit cross legged on the rug beneath you.

“Not all of them,” Harry replied, his voice steady and sure--his eyes still glued to the screen of his phone.

A snort escaped you--an eye roll from Alyssa before you even replied to him. “Maybe not when you’re Harry Styles.”

He looked up, lips parted to speak before Jake cut him off. “Yeah mate--not sure if you’ve had the typical club experience anywhere.”

He sunk into the couch cushions at that. “M’just trying to be supportive of the birthday girl.”

“She doesn’t want to even go to the club,” Jessie shook her head, furrowed brows when Harry readjusted, got up from the couch and headed for the kitchen to fetch a glass of water.

“Let’s go to the Met and we’ll go to this cute Italian place nearby for dinner. Super small--no one will even know you’re there,” you said, wondering if your words sounded too reassuring to the man who just broke your heart--for the second time.

He reappeared with a plastic blue cup in hand--one you’d stolen from an old roommate in uni. “Yeah--that’s good.”

Adam brought the conversation back to Leah Putney, scrolling through her facebook page to learn she’d been married for two years--bit young, don’t you think? He asked.

Alyssa laughed and laughed when Jessie told her about the time she put gum in Jake’s hair, leading to a Friday night hair cutting experience in your mum’s kitchen. Harry missed that one--it was sometime between the X Factor and their first album.

Remember when Y/N and Peter Willoughby were going at it and Katie walked in on them? Bryn seemed to think the moment was hilarious--definitely more so than your younger sister had.

Another one Harry didn’t remember--sometime before the second album, he was likely on tour for the summer.

“You and Peter Willoughby dated?” He asked with a tilted head, arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh did they ever,” Jessie proclaimed, excited eyes and a threatening giggle.

“We were, like, seventeen, it was only a few months,” your words were more of a warning to her than an explanation to Harry. You knew how funny your friends found the story to be and now didn’t feel like a good time to relive the whole thing.

“A few months? It was the most sexual time of your short life!” Bryn let out a squeal but gained composure when you shot her a glare across the living room.

“What?” Both Harry and Alyssa asked at the same time--their lack of involvement in that time period seemed to quickly align them in learning more.

“It was nothing,” you said.

“Yeah right,” Alyssa countered.

“The most sexual time of your life?” Harry’s eyebrows jumped.

“I didn’t call it that, they did.”

“Oh just tell them,” Adam laughed, waving a hand before finishing his beer. “S’not that bad.”

You let out a big sigh--something about the theme of embarrassing moments being rehashed for all to bear witness felt a bit overwhelming these last few months. “I was--” a pause, another breath before really relinquishing yourself to the vulnerability. “Quite determined to lose my virginity in the spring of 2011.”

“You lost your virginity to Peter Willoughby?” A smile threatened to pull at Harry’s right cheek--a dimple seemed to appear slowly before Jake interrupted him.

“Oh no--she tried to. Ended up being Nolan Truscott, right?”

Harry’s eyes bounced between you and Jake like a ping pong ball--an eager smile on his face as if he gained something from this meaningless fact. “Tried to?”

“The condom was on and ready to go,” Bryn stifled a laugh, “but poor Katie needed homework help and barged through the door to Y/N’s bedroom.”

Harry’s eyes were wide and he let out a sheepish giggle--as did Alyssa (though she was clearly trying to be more poised than he was)--when you let your head lean against the back of the sofa. “Alright, alright. As if I’m the only one who’s ever been walked in on.”

“Been there,” Bryn admitted. “My roommate had no clue I wasn’t straight--you can imagine her surprise.”

Harry’s eyes were still on you, though, a smirk apparently stuck on his cheeks when he licked at his lips.

“Why are you smiling like that?” You challenged, less amused by his demeanor now.

“I just--I dunno, missed out on a lot, I guess, so I’m just catching up. S’that alright?”

“No,” you rolled your eyes. “Should have stuck around.”

The words were more weighted than you intended. So weighted, in fact, that a silence took over the room and Jessie desperately tried to divert for you.

“Oh come on Harry--you’re the one who lost your virginity to someone old enough to be your mum.”

“She wasn’t that old,” he retorted.

“Yes she was,” Bryn argued, a look of disgust on her face, one that was all too similar to the night he told you in the first place.

December 2010

Your lips were parted, frozen as if the air from outside had seeped through Jake’s bedroom window. You sat atop his bedspread--navy with white pinstripes--as you watched Harry smile across the room. Luckily, Bryn and Jessie seemed just as alarmed as you did.

“I’m sorry--you said Caroline Flack?” Bryn’s arms were crossed as she leaned against Jake's desk.

Adam sat in the computer chair, a smile spreading over his face. “Like, the fittest presenter on the planet?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, a sheepish grin on his face before his eyes scanned over to you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I--I just--she’s a bit old, no?” You stammered out a more polite version than what was actually in your head.

“A bit?!” Leave it to Jessie to be unfiltered. “She’s practically my mum’s age!”

“Alright, didn’t tell all of you to be put on trial--I shared because you’re my friends.”

“We’re not trying to be rude, Harry,” Bryn rolled her eyes. “We just don’t want anyone going to jail seeing as it might be illegal somehow!”

“He’s sixteen!” Jake raised both palms towards the ceiling, adding a new level of emotional charge to the conversation. “S’the age of consent!”

Harry’d been home for a few days--busy forming a band in London and you’d yet to really see him. At first he promised you’d all come to the finale if they made it that far. When they were eliminated, he didn’t even respond to your apologetic text.

“Are you defending him?” Jessie asked, her eyes wide--Jake immediately shrunk back on the bed beside you.

“She’s, like, at least thirty! So she’s thirteen years older than you?”

“Fourteen,” Harry’s voice was quiet--ashamed, even.

“She’s thirty-one?!” You asked.

“Yes--okay? It’s not a big deal. We’re friends. She’s nice and she’s normal and she’s not some crazy girl our age who just wants to sleep with me because I was on the show.”

“No--I’m sorry, you’re right. She’s just a crazy 31-year-old adult who wants to sleep with you because you were on the show.” Bryn’s voice was seriously disapproving--her eyes watching his every move as he shifted in the bean bag chair Jake had received for Christmas five years earlier.

“Okay, alright, we don’t need to shit on him,” Adam said, somehow bringing order back to the room. “S’his decision after all. His virginity, that is.”

You were quiet--you watched again as Harry squirmed in his chair and seemed to let his eyes wander through the room you’d all sat in so many times. Only this time, one of you now had a song on the radio and was sleeping with thirty year olds.

Times had certainly changed.

“M’gonna grab some water,” you hoisted yourself up from Jake’s bed and walked through the room--leaving them upstairs before you made your way for the kitchen.

Footsteps behind you on the stairs, you looked over your shoulder to see Harry behind you. “M’not trying to follow you,” he said. “Just--needed a minute from them.”

You nodded--unsure of how to reply. He looked different, older, even. His hair wasn’t long as it had been on the telly, a few inches taller since you’d seen him over the summer. He’d already told you about the parties he’d been to and the celebrities he’d been drunk with. Pubs with Ed Sheeran and Olly Murs were typical Friday night hangs.

You reached for a glass above the sink, filled it from the tap and let the silence spread through the kitchen.

“Do you think it was stupid?”

You turned around, lips to the glass. A sip. “Sleeping with her?”

He nodded.

You shrugged. “I mean--s’up to you, right? As long as you’re happy.”

You bit at your lip, so badly wanting to tell him that yes it was stupid, how could it not be? But you didn’t--you took another sip of water and wondered what he’d say if you told him it was stupid because you’d always kind of wished it would have been you.

“Alright well--I don’t think we have to rehash it,” Harry said. “It was short lived, anyway.”

“Right,” you said, standing from the sofa, “cause this group never rehashes things--but, closing time, yeah?”

Jessie stood and stretched--Adam let out a yawn and watched as Bryn sprawled out on the floor before she peeled herself off of the carpet.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

You shot him a look--annoyed by his sudden ignorance to the hell you’d been put through by the lot of them for the last two years being forced to relive that one night.

“She’s sick of us all reliving her embarrassing memories,” Jessie answered for you, pulling her jacket on by the door. Alyssa plopped herself on the couch, if only she had popcorn.

“Yeah--as if we haven’t all done enough rehashing to last a lifetime.” You moved towards the coat rack, plucking his off of a hook and shoving it towards him.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he said, his eyes on yours as he took the jacket.

“Alright--okay,” you raised both hands in front of him. “I know it might be fun for everyone now that we don’t have to pretend it never happened but that doesn’t mean it’s up for discussion, got it?”

Silence. Harry had his phone in his hand--likely trying to signal Roger that now would be a convenient time to show up.

“Message received,” Jake teased, a two-finger salute before he pulled you into him. A kiss on the forehead before he moved into the hallway. Adam was next, then Bryn, then Jessie. Harry stood awkward in front of the door to your flat, his hands in the pockets of his black peacoat.

Alyssa had now disappeared to take a call from Owen--the others were heading down the stairs to find their way out to the blustering winds of Greenwich Village.

“Well--see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you said, less anger in your fists and less hatred in your veins. “Tomorrow.”

“I miss you.”

You winced--as if he’d told you a sad story or reminded you that your sheets no longer smelled like him. You crossed your arms to ensure he wouldn’t move closer, shoulders up to your ears as if you could shrink away from him and hide beneath the fabric of your blue sweater.

When you brought your eyes up to look at him, he was already out the door, pulling it shut behind him. Footsteps down the hall, fading as you slumped onto the couch.

You missed him, too.

You smoothed out the skirt you wore--black and an appropriate length for a business meeting. At least--you thought it was a business meeting. Alyssa had gotten in to your head this morning when Pat had messaged you to move it up. Something came up next week, he said. Any chance you can meet this morning?

So sure--why not? You’d already taken the day off to spend time with your friends and you’d be shocked if they were awake and ready before 11am. So you’d called for an uber and taken it out to Long Island City--making decent time doing a reverse commute. You found your way into the office at Digitize fine enough--Pat had said you’d pick a coffee place once he could introduce you to his team.

There’s no way it’s a date if he wants me to meet his co-workers, you’d told your roommate, brushing mascara onto your eyelashes while she sat on her glorious work-from-home throne. Her hair was up in a bun and she had a spoon in her mouth--a cup of yogurt was beside her on the coffee table.

But now, right before you were set to meet Pat in a conference room on some 14th floor--the door to the bathroom opened and you were face to face with a dark-haired, red-lipped girl. You almost let out a laugh at how cruel and unusual the universe had decided to become.

You reached up for a towel to dry your hands, a quick smile in her direction. When she made eye-contact, you pounced.

“Hi, um, are you--uh, Nina Winters?”

A nod--a humble one, not what you were expecting. She seemed caught off guard, as if the last place she expected to be recognized was a corporate bathroom in LIC.

“Nice to meet you--I’m, uh,” you paused, unsure if giving your name was the right move. “I’m a big fan.”

“Oh, hi,” she seemed to soften at that--as if she’d expected something less pleasant.

“I’m a journalist--s’why I’m here, I didn’--like--sneak in, or something.”

Her eyes squinted a bit, a look at you up at down. You felt stupid and small and suddenly not very pretty.

“I’m meeting with Pat Martin--I work for The Scoop, do you know us?”

A smile pulled at her lips. “I do! Yeah--fun site.”

“We try,” you said, an awkward pause when she reached for a hand towel beside you. Curiosity poured out of your mouth, as you dug through your purse for come chapstick. “Listen--uh, I know this is none of my business, but--I’m writing a feature on Harry Styles, and I know you and him were friends.”

She laughed, tossing the paper into the bin and checking her reflection in the mirror. “Off the record, short lived--nice guy, but, ended it really soon.”

“Huh,” you nodded, arms crossed over your chest. “Off the record, any reason why?”

She looked at you with suspicion in her eyes--too personal of a question, you guessed.

“Sorry--not prying. I don’t--I’m not talking about his love life in the story at all, just trying to get to know him as a person.”

She hesitated again, brushed her long hair behind an ear and then shrugged. “Said there was someone else. Don’t know who--haven’t seen him in tabloids with anyone.”

You forced a nod--wondering if you didn’t count because you weren’t in movies or magazines. She tilted her head to the side, now her curiosity was getting the best of her. “Has he--has he mentioned seeing anyone to you?”

“No,” you shook your head, a casual tone laced around your words. “Hasn’t mentioned anyone.”

She let out a hum, standing up straight and taking one last look in the mirror, a look of sheepishness crossed her face. “Can’t help but wonder, you know? Said he really liked her.”

Of course he did.

“Well, sorry to bother you,” you said. “He’s just--he’s got me curious.”

She laughed, heading out the door. “Don’t be--what you see is what you get.”

So you were alone with a wet countertop, wondering why Digitize wasn’t more environmentally friendly--even The Scoop had the nice, new, air dryers for your hands that attached to the faucet.

And since you were early, you stared at your reflection in the mirror and tried to ignore the voice in your head that reminded you how hard it would be to always be the no one by his side.

But talking with Pat helped you get your mind off of it. He told you all about the things that Digitze did--grow your following, organize content and run analytics to tell you when to post what. They were an expert team of social media gurus, aiming to help you capitalize on the engagement you already had. They partnered with brands to initiate sponsorships, something you’d only been approached about twice before.

But the best part of your meeting wasn’t getting introduced to his co-workers or seeing his office (almost as nice as Whitney’s)--it was walking down the block to get coffee and hearing him tell you about his favorite part of the job.

“When I help people get more comfortable with their online presence and help them really solidify their own brand,” he shrugged. “That’s kind of a magical moment for me.”

“Yeah, I get that. Must feel good to know you’ve helped someone create something that’s unique and special to them.”

“Exactly. And a lot of people think it’s stupid, you know?” He let out a laugh when he held the door open for you to move inside from the cold air. “Social media is such a touchy topic. But it’s how we connect now. If I can help people connect with others that relate to them in one way or another, that’s cool.”

“I totally hear you,” you said, rubbing your hands together in the blast of warm air. “It’s similar with writing. If I can write something that makes people laugh even just quietly at their desks--that’s good enough. I just want to spread some joy and happiness.”

He listened when you told him about your hopes of one day writing more real news--though he also claimed you were already doing it. He laughed at the right moments and he definitely was educated about ways you could grow your own brand outside of The Scoop.

The coffee was good and people worked quietly on computers nearby, only looking slightly annoyed by the way you laughed at his stupid joke about Whitney’s bagel obsession. You twisted a napkin in your fingers when you admitted your biggest dream: a talk show. He didn’t even flinch.

Harry stared up at a statue--his lips pushed out just enough to block the light that came through the window. Dust danced in the evening sunlight, marble walls let even the slightest whisper echo.

“S’bit weird, right?” His head cocked to the side, ear almost to his shoulder before he turned to see you, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah,” you nodded, eyes still on the cream colored figure that stood, bent, in front of you. A woman, naked of course. Hey Brynnie, found your favorite wing, Adam had joked when you’d turned the corner.

It was quiet--apparently a Wednesday evening wasn’t a rush for the museum. But Harry still had a hat on, his curls hidden beneath the frayed edges of an old beanie that you swore he’d had for a decade. At least my headware keeps me warm, he’d said to Jessie--who insisted on buying a Statue of Liberty-esque foam crown and wearing it proudly all day.

It’d been cold outside and after dodging Bryn’s questions about your coffee date with Pat, you were thankful for the drafty halls and soothing colors--even if you had to trail behind the dimpled boy who always knew exactly how to make you forget why you were mad.

“Smalls,” he said, a grin on his face after he’d moved a few statues over, mimicking the panicked expression etched in stone. “Look--s’your face when you got the interview.”

“What interview?” Adam asked, a confused laugh bounced through each of them, what a silly face on that statue. Harry didn’t even realize what he’d done, a smile waiting on his face for you to return it. It didn’t hit him until you let out a noise--more of a squeak, really--and blinked twice.

A deep breath, inquisitive looks from the rest of them. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “I--uh, I’m interviewing Harry for work, but they don’t know that we’re, you know, friends. So, s’why I asked you all to delete any photos of him and I.”

“What?” Bryn stepped towards you. “You didn’t tell them?”

“No,” you shrugged, hoping the oncoming wave of shame wasn’t a tsunami. “I dunno--I wanted to be my own person, you know? Not just be the friend of someone famous--so, they don’t know.”

Harry shrunk at that, a look of guilt on his face when you locked eyes with him again. “She’s amazing at her job, though, so, how mad can her boss be?”

“Really mad, honestly,” you let out a feigned laugh, as if the upcoming deadline didn’t keep you up at night. As if your thoughts didn’t bounce between trying not to love him and wishing you could.

Jessie made a face--one that was nervous and confused all at once. “So you’re just going to tell your boss that you know him when you write it, or?”

“I mean--I will, yeah. Before I give her the story, I guess. But--I dunno--can we not talk about it right now? S’not a big deal.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jake seemed to nod, a cue to the others to let it go. Adam pulled out a museum pamphlet, Harry caught up to you when you moved into a new hallway.

“Sorry, Smalls, I didn’t--it just totally slipped.”

“S’fine,” you said, mostly relieved that your friends hadn’t been more curious or less forgiving. “Just--don’t bring it up, okay? They don’t need to know any more.”

Hesitation--parted lips and a look in his eye that told you he had something else to say, but then, he didn’t. “Yeah,” he said, “okay.”

He hung back, waiting for Adam and Jake, three steps behind you on the polished floor.

“Is that why you’ve been so weird around him?” Jessie’s arm linked with yours, her head on your shoulder when she looked up at the painting right in front of you. Squares of color, melting together--a clear sign you’d left the statue exhibit.

“What?”

“I dunno--the fight the other night, spending all that time together for an interview. It’s seemed like you’ve been mad at him the whole time we’ve been here.”

“What are you talking about?” You shoved your hands in the pockets of your coat after snaking out of her grasp, thankful for the scarf wrapped around your neck that provided a hiding place from her question.

“Every time he talks to you it’s like you couldn’t be bothered.”

Her observation wasn’t wrong, but you weren’t about to admit that. “We’re fine, Jess.”

“Y/N--come on, you’ve been pretty shitty all week and now you want me to believe that nothing’s wrong when I find out you’ve been hanging out with him more than you let on?”

“I don’t know why you always think everything is your business,” you said quickly, Bryn appeared beside her, a confused look on her face when Jessie replied, a snarl on her face.

“It wouldn’t have to be if you weren’t such a liar all the time!”

“M’not a liar, you’re just nosy!”

“Whoa relax,” Bryn tried to raise a hand between you, Jessie pushed it out of the way.

“Well maybe I’m nosy because I know something’s going on between two of my friends but no one wants to admit it! So I’m left to make assumptions and wonder about what the fuck is really going on!”

Bryn was about to speak but you didn’t let her, words tumbling out of your mouth faster than you could have planned. “Fine--alright, we were having sex for a while, is that what you want to hear?” The echo on the smooth marble walls of the museum only made the embarrassment more staggering when you realized what you’d said.

Jessie’s eyes were wide--her stupid green crown still on her head--and her mouth hung open. After your eyes scanned her face, you turned to see the rest of them.

Bryn stood, face pale and round eyes. Jake and Adam both looked between each other, then quickly to you.

Harry--who’s arms were crossed over his chest, beanie pulled low over his hair--simply offered an uncomfortable smile.

“What?” Jessie finally broke the silence, her eyes still locked on your face. “The two of you?” She turned to see him quickly, a finger pointing in his direction before letting it glide lazily through the air until, finally, it pointed right at your chest.

You looked to Harry quickly--hoping for some kind of back up. Even Jake--the only one who knew that things had been heading in that direction--stood silent. A statue stood behind him, towering over the group of you in the one room in all of New York City to have perfect acoustics.

When your eyes locked with Harry, he shook his head, a slight shrug of his shoulders. “S’all you.”

“What’s all her?” Adam leaned forward, peering past Jake to look directly at you.

“I was joking,” you said quickly, a shake of your head and a small laugh. Harry’s face fell, his chest deflated and he broke his gaze from yours. “We’re not--there wasn’t,” you tried to find words, a way to take it back, to wipe the sadness from Harry’s face or the anger from Jessie’s.

“Have you two really been sleeping together?” Bryn’s voice was quiet, almost as if she was nervous to know the answer--like somehow that would change everything.

A look exchanged between you and Harry was all Jessie needed to know to storm out, a grunt from her lips before she took off, passing by the only other group of unsuspecting tourists nearby.

“Great,” you said, mostly to Harry, an afterthought as your legs carried you behind her, heading back down the hall you’d already wandered, the main room only a few feet ahead. “Jessie! Hold on!”

She didn’t listen--instead, she headed out and into the sun, stopping on the big steps when she realized she hadn’t the slightest clue as to where she was.

“Don’t make a scene,” you said. “Don’t bring attention to him and ruin the day for everyone.”

She groaned again--a loud and theatrical one--as if saving Harry the pain of being recognized was unbearable.

“I can’t believe this!” She said, arms sweeping by her sides when the others caught up behind you.

“S’not a big deal,” you said, eyes flashing to Bryn for some kind of support. “It was only a few times, it’s over though.”

“I don’t care if it’s over or not, Y/N, I care that you didn’t tell us--that you both lied!”

Harry kept quiet, his hands in his pockets and his hat pulled even lower than before. The streets of New York didn’t exactly feel like a safe space for this conversation.

“Oh Jessie please--as if I could have told you the truth without judgment or advice or something.”

“Maybe we should go back to someone’s apartment,” Jake suggested, a hand in the cold winter air when you both looked his way.

“No one else is mad about them being liars?” Jessie’s eyes searched the group, looking for a beacon of hope before she let out another dramatic sigh.

“You’re surprised, Jessie? Really? After all these years Harry and Y/N finally having a good shag is a shock to you?” Bryn seemed to be a bit more annoyed now, but you were unsure whether it was the scene Jessie was causing or the topic of conversation altogether. You hoped for the former when Harry cleared his throat.

“M’more than happy to answer questions about who I’m sleeping with, but--I dunno--maybe we can not do it on the streets of New York?”

In a split second he decided the Italian restaurant on the Upper East Side was a better option. A tiny place with only five tables--two pulled together to fit all of you. Every time Adam rested his elbows it would wobble, the walk over had been quiet and Jessie now held her menu in front of her as if she was hungry, but you all knew that 5:30 was a bit early for supper.

“Does anyone have anything to say?” Bryn’s eyes seemed to linger on yours, a knowing look on her face communicated that she thought you should start.

“I don’t know why this matters,” you said, hushed voice bounced off the light yellow walls. “We’re not, like, together.”

Harry looked up when you spoke, an unreadable expression on his face while he toyed with a sugar packet between his fingers.

“It matters, Y/N, because you,” Jessie cut herself off, eyes drifting up to Harry before they landed on yours again, a sigh from between her lips. You knew what she was going to say.

There were no secrets now, though. Harry knew how long you’d liked him and there was no use in dancing around things--especially if this was literally all out on the table for discussion. “Because I’ve always wanted it?”

Her gaze shifted to him momentarily, “yeah,” she said. “And because we’ve all been waiting for it to happen. I know you think I’m a proper knob for leaving you in the loo that night but--everyone just wanted it to finally be a thing.”

“Leaving us stranded probably wasn’t the best way to accomplish that,” Harry shrugged, eye contact with Jake who seemed too interested in your reply.

“We didn’t tell anyone because it wasn’t a big deal! And I mean--really not a great idea especially with me writing the story on him and so much time has passed and,” you tried to keep yourself from looking at him across the table, curious as to what he’d disagree with.

But he didn’t--he didn’t tell them that he’d wanted to tell them or that he’d been begging you to just come clean. He didn’t argue a word you said. Which only made you feel worse.

“So wait,” Adam tilted his head to the side and looked between the two of you, his hand around a glass of water. “You mean to tell us that it finally happened and now you’re just--not together and not shagging anymore?”

Jake stifled a laugh at his wording, both you and Harry shook your heads. “No.”

“Why’s that?”

You let your gaze lift to see him tugging at his lower lip. You wanted to say yeah, why’s that? but instead, you watched him stammer.

“I--uh--I was just, I fucked it up, I guess.”

Silence--apparently Jessie chose now to not be so nosy. Bryn folded her menu and leaned back in her chair. “Well--I appreciate the two of you coming together for our trip.”

“Thanks, Brynnie,” Harry’s voice was quiet beside her, you watched as he let his hand reach down to pat her thigh.

January 2011

Jessie had a hand in a bowl of crisps when your phone lit up on Bryn’s twin bed, you thought nothing of it at first. An instant message from Harry to the group. You clenched your jaw and focused your vision back on Bryn’s hair in front of you, but you’d never really been good at french braiding.

Music floated up from Jessie’s iPod on the floor, she laid beside it with a magazine open to a page about Justin Bieber. She spoke with a full mouth before making eye contact with you. “Harry said something.”

You had no idea if he was coming home--and it didn’t seem like he did either. His band had been voted off the show and while it certainly left you all gutted, a tiny, heart shaped piece of you was secretly thrilled that your friend hadn’t been showered in confetti and champagne.

“What’d he say?” Bryn asked, you kept your fingers working, ignoring the climbing heartbeat in your ribcage.

Jessie had already read it--a fallen expression on her face when she looked up at the two of you. “They got a record deal.”

Silence for a second, your fingers fumbled with the locks of Bryn’s hair you held. “That’s amazing,” you said, getting back up to speed. “Wicked exciting.”

“Y/N,” Jessie said, pushing herself up to be seated. “Who knows what it means, though. They might not do well or something--we never know.”

“They’re already doing ridiculously well and they lost,” Bryn reminded, scooting forward and out of your grasp. Her braids untwisted at the ends, but she didn’t seem to mind. She turned around on the bed and watched you for a second, picking at her fingernails when Jessie spoke.

“Maybe now’s a good time to tell him.”

“Right,” you laughed. “Let me text him in the chat room and say that he should turn down a record deal because I was hoping to go to the prom with him.”

“Well nothing is ever going to happen if you don’t tell him how you feel!”

You laid back on the bed, your head hitting a pillow with a thud before you closed your eyes. “Fuck me,” you said, your voice quiet and emotional.

“I’m sure he’d love to,” Jessie teased, a laugh escaping her lips when you opened your eyes quickly, shocked by her words. “He just doesn’t know you’d let him.”

Your lips pulled into a smirk, one that you tried to fight when Bryn leaned forward and hit you with another frilly pillow. “If he knew how bad you wanted to suck him off he’d move home in a heartbeat,” she giggled.

“No he wouldn’t!” You argued, squinting in response to her vulgarity. You pushed yourself up on the bed and looked at them. “It’s over, alright? I missed my chance and I should have told him before he left. Now he’s been deflowered by a thirty-year-old.” They laughed at that. “But it’s fine, anyway. Plenty of cute boys in our year and plenty of prom date options.”

They were both quiet for a second, almost as if they didn’t know whether or not to believe you.

But you didn’t know, either.

“Well good, then.” Jessie nodded, her tone confident as she pushed the magazine out of her way, likely thinking that if she really sold it, you’d all believe the lies you were spewing. “Gives you plenty of space to get over him if he’s stuck in London.”

You knew they hadn’t asked enough questions. You knew the silence on the ride back to Harry’s was too good to be true. So when Bryn and Jessie pulled you into the guest room they’d somehow made a mess of in just a few days, you knew you were stuck when Jessie blocked the door.

“Alright, so--we need way more details,” she said, her voice quiet.

Bryn had claimed she wanted to show you a new outfit she’d bought, Jessie had said something about using the loo.

You let out a dramatic sigh, partially relieved that it was out in the open, and totally freaked that now you had to tell them more about it. “Well I told you he had texted me in the beginning of December.”

They nodded.

“And Alyssa and I went to that show, and then him and I had Thai.”

“When did the fucking start, though?” Jessie cut right to the chase, a smile on her lips when you blinked three times at her bluntness.

“After Christmas, in January, I dunno.”

“So was this all happening when you both came home?” Bryn had sat on the bed they’d been sharing, sheets and blankets twisted into a ball at the foot.

“No--I mean, sort of. Not the sex.”

“What do you mean sort of?” Her head tilted to the side.

“Wait,” Jessie said. “Is that what was happening on New Year’s Eve when I came upstairs?”

“No,” you said. “I mean--I dunno. It didn’t happen. I was still trying to fight it at that point.”

“Why would you fight it you idiot?! You’ve been wanting this forever!” Bryn’s volume grew with emotion, you widened your eyes at her to remind that if she wanted any details at all, she’d have to be cool and collected.

“Yeah, Bryn, and you don’t think this is all too late? I’d moved on! I’d been over him and I moved here and this was my city and everything was fine!”

Jessie took two steps forward, apparently now she was satisfied that you wouldn’t try to bolt for the door. “So why did it crash and burn, then? Why is it not a thing anymore?”

“Because he was seeing someone else!”

“What?” They both asked in unison, utter disbelief.

“Who was that fucking wanker seeing?”

“A model,” you rolled your eyes. “Nina Winters!”

“She’s so fit,” Bryn mumbled.

“Not the point!” Jessie waved a hand at her. “You’re bloody joking, right? How did you find out?”

“Pictures on the internet,” you said, a fire ignited in your chest with the newfound support from your friends. “They were holding hands in one.”

“Is he still seeing her?” Bryn crawled towards the edge of the bed, her face muddled with confusion.

“No--said he ended it with her when we came home--like, after New Years.”

“Oh,” Jessie said, her eyebrows suddenly unfurled. “So, wait. He was seeing her before he was seeing you?”

“No--I mean, he said they met in August or something and were hanging out in the fall. Apparently in December he was making out with her but then drinking wine on my couch and buying my plane ticket home.”

“Y/N,” Bryn said your name slow, as if she was about to break some terrible news. “It sounds like he ended it with her when he realized there was something there.”

“No, there’d been something there. I mean, we were spending so much time together in December and then he kissed me in front of my parents' house and then apparently came back to New York and still saw her!”

“Do you know if he slept with her?”

“He said he didn’t.”

“So what did he say when you confronted him?”

“That he only saw her after the New Year to tell her he didn’t want to see her anymore.”

You knew something was wrong when they both watched you silently. You knew it didn’t sound as bad as it had in your head the nights after when you’d just stare at the ceiling and hope sleep would come.

“Honey, I think that’s all he could have done.”

Jessie’s voice was quiet, much more controlled and sweet than it usually was. Her eyes were soft and apologetic, you heard laughter from the living room.

“Did you guys ever, like, talk about what it meant?” Bryn’s expression seemed to mirror Jessie’s--fearful or hesitant or somewhere in the middle of the two.

You nodded, eyes on the floor of the guest bedroom as it flooded back. The bathtub, the trip to LA in general, the empty suitcase on his floor when you showed up that night to call it all off.

“Look,” you said, immediately trying to gain some distance from the emotions in your chest and the looks on their faces. “It’s fine, alright? It was a bad idea anyway. Unprofessional and just--living out a teenage fantasy, I guess. S’done, it was too much of a mess.” You let your eyes linger on Jessie’s for a second, a sigh before you continued. “I should have known, okay? I know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, Jessie, don’t do this. I know you’re bursting at the seams to tell me I’m a fucking moron.”

Her face fell at that, eyes to the white shag carpet that you were sure someone else had picked out. “No--Y/N, I wouldn’t--”

“S’fine, alright? Honestly. I know it was dumb and now it’s over. It’s just a thing of the past and we can all move on and pretend it didn’t happen, yeah?”

“Just like last time,” Jessie rolled her eyes a bit, annoyed by your desire to drop it.

“Alright,” you sighed, not enough energy left in your bones to bicker any more with her. “M’gonna head home--I’ll see you both tomorrow? Still on for ice skating?”

They nodded, letting you slip through the door and down the hall without a goobye. The living room quieted when you appeared around the corner, Harry’s eyes searched yours for some kind of emotion. You almost thought they were about to ask: everything okay? Did you tell them all the details? What do they know? How do you feel? Is this still going to be awkward?

But you grabbed for your keys on the end table near the door, a spot where they once belonged. “Late, innit? I’ll see you lot tomorrow.”

Blank stares returned, faces twisted to each other, wondering who should acknowledge the tension in the room. “Night,” you said, heart beat only slowing after the lift doors slid shut behind you, feet on pavement for the walk home.

And with only a week left until your story had to be printed and placed on Whitney’s desk, you decided that instead of using the buzzing in your veins as a good reason to write, you’d channel it somewhere else. Organizing your closet, cleaning the bathroom, meal prepping, anything.

You didn’t want to be left alone with the taped conversations, interrupted by laughter and kisses and thoughts of what could have been. So you’d put it off, just like most other things that had to do with Harry.

come talk to me about tytl

read the other parts here

AN: woooohooooo finally a chapter closer to 8k wc! Took a minute but things are moving along here, aren’t they?

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ashelbygirl · 4 years

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Dishonorable intentions. | Thomas Shelby x Reader Imagine.

Part II.

*Sidenotes: I was inspired and some anons asked me to do the second part of dishonorable intentions, soooo here it is! I’ve decided it’ll have more parts so hope you enjoy it.

*Resume: You and Tommy go on your first date.

Thomas lit another cigarette. Feeling the smoke in his lungs gave him a sense of calmness. A feeling he really needed in that exact moment. They were counted the times that Thomas Shelby had been nervous: when Hughes kidnapped Charlie, in the tunnels when he was in the war, in the birth of Charlie and Ruby and another time: when he saw YN for the very first time. YN in the war. YN as a nurse. He hit the cigarette again. Fuck. How long was she going to make him wait?

He wasn’t going to lie, he never thought a girl like YN would accept to go on a date with him. You could tell from miles away that they were completely different from the other.

First we have Thomas. The all mighty, Thomas Shelby. The son of an Irish immigrant man and a Romani gipsy woman, born and raced in Small Heath, Birmingham, England. He was in his late 30s about to jump to the 40s. A charmer by nature and way to intelligent for his time. A man who grew up without shoes to wear or food to eat, a man who growing up only had bread and lard when he dreamt and hoped that maybe one day, he’ll be able to do and have whatever he wanted. He worked hard until he created his own empire, but Tommy knew that no amount of money allows you to pass through the steel sheets that separates one class from another. He knew it cause he had lived it. But even when he born with nothing, he became one of the most powerful men in all Europe. He was brilliant, aggressive but rational, he knew what he wanted and he didn’t ask permission, he does what he wants and takes what he needs. A genius, a womanizer, millionaire, CEO of multiples business, philanthropist, and yet, he didn’t felt worthy of dating someone like YN. He dated Greta, Grace, May, Lizzie, Tatiana, Jessie, and many more, but he never felt unworthy to have them, to be with them. Only with YN.

And then we have YN. YN Casiraghi was born and raised in London. A 22 year old Heiress of one of the most influential and wealthiest families in Europe. YN was passionate about everything that could make her feel free and liberated. She loved to travel, to read, to study, to work, to learn. Her dream was to become an independent woman who didn’t have to depend of a man. YN was a free spirit. Determinate and stubborn, yet free and playful, flirty and seductive, intelligent and fearless. Growing up YN had everything she wanted or needed, she grew up being spoiled but never being a brat or a mean girl. She was a good girl and everyone wanted to be her or be with her. YN was special. Everyone loved YN, not just because she was beautiful and smart, a popular socialite who knew everyone and ruled every place she went to. They loved her because she was sweet, because she always tried to help, because she wasn’t selfish or shallow, because she cared.

YN Casiraghi and Thomas Shelby. When black meets white. When yin meets yan. When two worlds collide.

YN closed the door behind her, and with a smile she started to walk towards Tommy. . Thomas glanced toward the entrance of her house...and his mouth dries. She’s standing on the entrance, and for a second he doesn’t realize it’s her. She looked exquisite: her hair falls in soft waves to her breast on one side, and on the other it’s pinned back so it’s easier to see her delicate jawline and the gentle curve of her slender neck. She’s wearing high heels and a tight light blue dress that accentuates her alluring figure. Wow. Her lips in her classical red lipstick. A red that could drive any man crazy, including Thomas Shelby. The closer she was to him, the more his heart skipped a beat.

-Hi.-YN chuckled. Damn. Thomas Shelby looked way more handsome than he had years before when she last saw him.

-Hello love.-Tommy spoke after extinguish the fire of his cigar by throwing it away.-So, are you ready sweetheart?-He extended his hand so she could take it and help her get to the car.

-I’m YN, not your love and surely not your sweetheart, love.-The girl smiled one last time before she started walking to the Bentley parked in front of her house. She didn’t even waited for Thomas to open the door for her. She opened herself and got in the car. Thomas didn’t took long to follow. He started the car and away they go.

The ride was pretty fast before they arrived to the Hotel Café Royal, a place that both of them knew very well. It was an hotel where everyone who was a somebody hanged out.

Winston Churchill, Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald, Einstein, Henry Ford, George Washington, Charles Chaplin, Ernest Hemingway, Coco Chanel, you name it.

When YN got off the car, she couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. It wasn’t funny anymore, almost every guy she went out on a date with, thought it was a great idea to have a first date in that same place. Every fucking time. When Tommy got to her side he put his hand in her waist, pushing a bit so she could start walking into the hotel. And YN could’ve sworn that electricity ran through her whole body. It wasn’t normal how nervous he could make her with a simple gesture.

-Cmon lov... YN.-Tommy killed a smile that was starting to appear on his face. She was something else. She reminded him of Dangerous, one of his most loving horses, she wasn’t scared to take what she wanted, she wasn’t afraid to do whatever that would please her, cause if freedom could be a person, it would be YN.

The both entered to the Oscar Wilde salon, filled with aristocrats and important people who tried to impress each other. The hostess and a waiter took YN and Thomas to their table, the best table in the whole place. A table with a view. YN was a sucker for a killer view, but at the end of the day, it was a view she knew way to well.

-Here you go Mr. Shelby and Mrs. Casiraghi. So, can I bring you something to drink?-The young man asked with a smile, you could tell the poor thing was really nervous. He has to serve two of the most important clients of the Hotel.

-I’ll have a glass of Sancerre.-The girl spoke with confidence, after turning his gaze to the blue eyed.

-I’ll have a whiskey. Irish.-The kid left as quickly as possible, trying to bring their drinks asap. Thomas got closer to her. -You look stunning.- He said in a whisper, and kissed her cheek. Closing his eyes, Him savoring her scent; she smelled heavenly. It didn’t took long before YN started to blush, she was very used to men giving her compliments of all kind, but there was something in the way Thomas did it that drove her crazy.

-You look pretty good too, I’m glad to see you in one piece, I’ll admit that the last time I saw you, I didn’t though you’ll make it.-She spoke with clarity, something that Tommy was starting to appreciate. Tommy chuckled, even when he was pretty used to having a poker face and nothing and no one surprised him, she did. She was something different. -So how did you found me? And what took you so long?

A smile appeared on Tommy and a minute later, the drinks were in their hands.

-Well, well, you play no games, don’t you?... When I finally went back to Birmingham, where I’m from, I wasn’t the man you met. Everything changed in me. I became a different man, all my believes, my ideas, my feelings and emotions died in France, stayed in France. But, when I came back I started looking for you and to be honest, it wasn’t hard, you’re kind of a celebrity. I know that princes, dukes, ministers, rich gals, and almost every man with eyes would kill to be by your side. I know you’re well educated, you’re probably the only woman I know that went to college. I know who you are. So now tell me, would you even say hello to the man I was before I became who I am now? No YN, you wouldn’t. Cause at the end of the day I’m not a man who could’ve dated you, cause I didn’t had anything to offer you. So how was I supposed to chase a woman like you? Let’s be honest love, you’re out of my league. -Thomas sipped from his whisky, his eyes never leaving hers.- I started my company, doing bets, protecting people, doing business and everything else for two reasons, the first one is cause I always wanted to give my family everything they deserved and the second, cause I want to get myself anything I want, anything I desire, and guess what? I desire you, YN. I want you. I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you in France.- She didn’t say a word. To be honest, she was pretty amused.

The dinner went by fast. Not much talk between them but also, they couldn’t keep their gaze to themselves. They ate and have one or two laughs. Everything was going okay. It was average. But YN always wanted more than average.

-So now that you’ve tried to impress me and clearly failed, why don’t you take me to somewhere that I can actually have fun. Somewhere you actually enjoy, somewhere we can be ourselves and stop pretending. Show me where would Thomas Shelby take a girl to have a little fun?

-You won’t like it. I’m not sure you’ll like my world.

-Hmm... I’m feeling adventurous.- a smile appeared on her face, she was challenging him.

-Okay... cmon...-He stood up after leaving some cash on the table, giving the young waiter, the tip of his life. And for the first time on the whole night YN took his hand. They drove away and YN could see how the streets of London changed from the safest and prettiest ones to the dangerous and poorest. She loved to be out of her comfort zone. Thomas parked his car and she could notice a few blocks away from they parked, lights that attracted everyone.

-A pub? You brought me to a freakin pub?

-Oi! This isn’t like a pub you’ve probably been to. This is not the type of gals you interact with. This are working men, men who fought in France, men who don’t care about money or your last name... trust me, you’ll have a blast. I promise.

-And if I don’t?-She asked challenging him again. She loved to play.

-If you don’t have fun, you’ll decide where we go the next time... but if you do have fun, I’ll kiss you.

-Who says there’s going to be a second date?

-Its a feeling love... now let’s go.

Thomas couldn’t take his eyes away from her while she walked. He had been waiting for this moment all day and looked thru out the day, repeatedly at his watch. This feels like a first date, and in a way it is, but Tommy didn’t do first dates, not until her. He had never taken a prospect girl out to dinner. He had sat through interminable meetings that day, bought a business, and fired three people. Nothing He had done today, including almost killing a man, dispelled the anxiety Tommy had wrestled with all day. That power is in the hands of YN. YN made him anxious, he hadn’t even taste her but he was already addicted.

As they entered the pub fulled with men who feared, loved and respected Thomas, everything got quiet. Not a soul would dare to speak.

-Fellas. Is this a funeral or why the scary faces? Cmon! Drinks are on me today! You deserve it! -

Every man in the room cheered, but Thomas only noticed the admiring glances from those same men, and in the case of one handsome, athletic guy, overt appreciation of his date. It’s not something Tommy have dealt with before...and to be honest, he didn’t liked it. It seemed that that night, all the men only had eyes for Miss YN. They walked while Thomas gave them a withering look that send them in retreat from the room. Taking her hand, he lead her to the bar.

-Mr. Shelby! So nice to see ya again-An old man smiled to the couple.

-What would you like to drink?- Tommy is rewarded with a knowing smile as she sits down.

-I’ll have whatever you’ll have, please.

-Two whiskeys, Irish, Tom.- Tommy said to the bartender before they slide into a booth. Thomas sitting right next to her.

-So... you’re quite de celebrity aren’t you?-She smiles to him while making fun on him. YN actually was surprised of all the love Thomas Shelby received and yet, he didn’t seem to care.

They drank the whole night, she sang to him, and he danced with her. They talked, for hours. They went to the roof of the pub and watch some fireworks. YN talked about college, about art, about her favorite books, about her fears, she even talked about Alex. Tommy talked about his family, about the company, about Ruby and Charlie, he talked about his childhood, about the games he played with his brothers, about the war. It was so easy to talk to each other. It felt like they’ve always known each other. YN was everything Tommy always wanted, she wasn’t afraid of thinking for herself, she was smart and she was passionate about almost everything that intrigued her. She was fearless and a little bit reckless, yet caring and loving. And she laughed, she laughed about everything and it was really easy for her to make new friends. She loved to party and to have fun. She wasn’t scared to be herself in a world that tells you who you are supposed to be. Fuck. Thomas really liked her. And Tommy was everything YN always craved. A rational man who didn’t fear his instincts. A man who cared about his family and everyone he loved. He was powerful and a control freak, but with her he let go. He was free and wasn’t scared of anything. He does what he wants and takes what he wants. He has ambitions and damn he’s intelligent. Oh and he’s gorgeous.

They laughed and talked for hours and hours, until it was early in the morning. 5 am marked the clock, but they wanted so much of each other that time didn’t seem to care. But they had stuff to do, even if the dreamt of staying in that little booth their whole lives, real life was starting out there.

-Let’s go YN, I’ll take you home.-He took her hand and they started to walk in the still dark sky, out of the pub they acted as if they still were in their bubble.

-I don’t want this to end...-She spoke while walking before she stopped to look at Tommy.-I feel so liberated when I’m with you.

-Well did you have fun?-Thomas asked the girl while he cornered her to a wall. Her back hitting lightly the wall. Him getting closer to her. Bodies brushing into one and other.

-Are you kidding me? This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time...-She smiled to him and Tommy could’ve sworn he could feel his heart race.

-Good. That’s good. Cause know I’m going to be able to do something I’ve been wanted to do since the first time I saw you in France.-And with that being said, Thomas kissed the red lips of the girl who had been teasing him all night. And god she felt so good. She was a goddess, of that Tommy was sure. And she tasted so heavenly.

-You’re going to be the death of me love...-Thomas said in a whisper before driving YN to her house and ending their beautiful night.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagines #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagines #thomas shelby fan fiction #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfiction #arthur shelby #john shelby #michael gray #finn shelby #dishonorable intentions

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chwetuan · 5 years

Text

coffee bean - ten x reader (a, f)

Coffee Bean: In which Ten turns your lonely life into something so much sweeter - like the taste of coffee and cream that lingers on his lips. college!au + exchangestudent!ten.

+ wc: 3.2k

+ genre: soft angst, fluff

+ song pairing: imported - jessie reyez ft 6lack

+ a/n: this fic is my baby. a few months ago when my writer’s block was intense, this was all i could work on. overtime, i went back to it whenever i felt my inspiration lacking. i hope you can feel my emotion through it, and above all, i hope you like it <3 - Z

You don’t think he meant to spill coffee on you. At least, you desperately hope not, because he was — honestly, to whatever higher power there was — the most beautiful human being you’d encountered in the mere two hours you’d been awake.

It’s shameful, how easily you can become infatuated with a stranger. You figure it’s all the books you read, all the stories about love at first sight and meeting “the one” — your inherent hopeless romanticism.

The reaction is delayed. You’re slow in plucking the napkins out of his hand and pressing them against the now ruined fabric of your shirt.

“Oh, my god - I’m so sorry. I’m sorry-“

He’s rushing to speak and stuttering an apology, awkwardly, as he picks the coffee cup off of the ground. His eyes are darting around your face, flicking downwards to the stain and the movements of your hand.

If it were anyone else, you wouldn’t be concerned about the the dryness of your lips or the pimple on your forehead. But, he’s cute, sloping nose and blonde-haired glory kind of cute.

“It’s fine. I don’t like shirts anyways.”

The words fly out of of your mouth faster than your mind can process them.

You want to facepalm yourself. You almost go to do it, but then you remember that there’s a pimple on your forehead and your hand is kinda sticky from the dried coffee.

“I mean, I like shirts, not just this shirt. I know I bought the shirt but it’s not my favorite or anything, you know? So it’s fine.”

The recovery is hardly smooth.

He smiles, and his eyes crinkle into little crescents, half-moons so beautiful you forget it’s broad daylight.

“I mean, the shirt is kinda cool, so I’m sorry about the coffee thing.”

“It’s just a white shirt. I can buy a 5 pack of Hanes shirts for like 6 bucks.” You take the empty coffee cup from his hand, stuffing the used napkins into it and shoving it in your backpack, mentally noting to throw it away later.

“I know, but you look cool in it.”

The more he talks, the more you pick up on an accent. Your geography is shit, and you can’t really guess where it’s from, but he’s definitely not from around here, you’d know if he was. I mean, you knew he wasn’t from the start, being that cute and that well-dressed — not a chance.

“So, what’s your name?”

“5 times 2.”

“Ten?”

“Ten.”

“Cool.”

~~~

The next time you run into Ten, it’s in the campus library. You look much different than you did on the day he spilled coffee on you. Instead of a white t-shirt and pair of jeans, you’re dressed in a bulky cardigan and a pair of leggings that scream cold weather with a chance of rain.

You take the gently-used book from his grasp.

“Ten.”

“T-shirt girl.”

The corner of your mouth tilts into something similar to a smile as you add the name of the book to his account. The edges are frayed, and the cover is worn. It’s called “The Vision of Modern Dance”, and on the cover is some woman frolicking. That’s the only way you can describe it. The program takes long to boot up, because the operating system is old as hell and the university hasn’t upgraded the library’s electronics since the early 2000s.

You wonder if you could ever be that graceful frolicking across a stage.

“Modern dance, huh.” You stall.

You wish the computer was modern. “Yeah. Never saw you as the librarian type, but somehow it’s very fitting.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

You hand the book over to him after a few minutes of slightly awkward silence.

“It’s yours for two weeks.”

He has a crossbody bag slung over his shoulder, it’s worn like the book he holds and he smiles as he puts it in his bag.

“See you in two weeks.”

~~~

You bump into Ten before the two weeks. To be precise, it’s a week later, on a boring Friday night outside of a convenience store about a block away from campus.

“T-shirt girl.”

It’s an odd way to continue addressing someone, but it still makes you smile.

“Ten. Have you forgotten my name?”

In the glow of the street light, his eyes twinkle and you can see the red color that’s settled on his cheeks. Maybe it’s the night air. He shakes his head.

“Beer?”

It’s only then that you notice the six-pack he’s holding, glass bottles clinking as he sets the case on the table in front of you.

“Okay.”

He nods and sits across from you, handing over a bottle and watching you open it on the edge of the table. It’s the cheap kind — the kind that reminds you of your teenage years, when you were less broke than you are now and much more stubborn.

“How’s your dance book?”

“Boring. Kinda good, but mostly boring.” He takes a sip. “What are you studying?”

Psychology.”

His brows raise momentarily. “Cool.”

“Thanks.”

He shrugs and it’s quiet again. It isn’t awkward, but you’re trying so hard not to stare at him and to stop yourself from grimacing as you sip the beer. It really does remind you of your teenage years.

The night air is chilly. You can hear the sounds of people talking and music playing faintly coming from inside the store. The sky is clear, because you’re nowhere near the city, and you can see the stars and the half-moon that remind you of his eyes.

You break the silence. “Where are you from?”

“All over.”

“Elaborate.”

“Well, Thailand.” He pauses, sipping again and leaning back in his seat. “But also Korea and China, for a bit.”

“How’d you end up here?”

He runs his fingers through his hair. It’s grown a bit since you first met him. The blonde is fading, melting into the color of honey, and his roots have started to grow out.

“I felt like I needed to push myself more. Be on my own. I won a few competitions back home-“

“Which home?”

He laughs, airy and mysterious like the person he is.

“All.”

You nod, sipping from the nearly empty bottle.

“It felt like everyone knew me. I couldn’t tell if the people around me wanted to be there because of me, or because of the attention. So, I left.”

“Good.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I mean,” You start, sitting up a little straighter. “My home life is pretty shit. I don’t go home during holidays and I don’t talk to my parents. My younger sister does good for herself, and it isn’t her fault everyone uses her and her money. I’ve tried to tell her that they are, but we always end up fighting. She doesn’t listen. I tried to tell her to leave. She’s young, and she’s more stubborn than I was. My family hates me for it. I wish she would leave, though.”

“You’re a good person.”

“Aren’t we all, at first?”

“We are. But not all of us say that way.”

“You’re right.”

“Beer?” He asks again, and the night continues on like that.

~~~

At the two week mark, Ten’s back in the library.

He’s wearing a university hoodie - the one that everyone buys during freshman year. Mid-terms are approaching, and the signs are seen on his face. He looks tired, bags under his eyes and all, but he still smiles that smile that could make anyone do anything.

“Hey, Ten.”

He nods in greeting, fishing into his shoulder bag and taking the book out. He’s playing with the rings on his fingers. You’ve counted four, three silver and one gold.

He’s looking at you like he wants to say something, and you know he does, because you’re a psychology major and while you may not be good with words, his body language says it all.

Whatever he wants to say is left unsaid. You don’t push and he leaves with a polite thank you and a shy smile.

~~~

It’s your birthday.

It’s your birthday and you’re crying in the bathroom.

Your shift ended four and a half minutes ago, but the tears keep falling.

No one calls you. Not even your sister.

You’re reminded of how lonely you are — classes all week, working in between, and nothing but the books to keep you company.

You wipe your tears and take deep breaths, and you feel stupid. You feel like your teenage self, and no one should feel like her, ever.

You feel like she’s watching you, with a sad smile on her face. She wants to reach out to you and hug you, tell you that she’s sorry and that it’s okay, because she knows how you feel and that no one has ever done that for her.

No one knows you better than yourself.

Eventually, you make your way out of the bathroom, head down watching your feet as you leave the library.

You’re only a few steps out of the exit when you bump into someone. You’re about to rush a sorry, but the person speaks before you do.

“We keep meeting like this.”

You freeze. It’s his voice and you freeze.

You don’t want to talk. Your throat is hoarse from silent crying and you don’t trust your voice. You look up briefly, giving what you hope is a smile. To Ten, it’s the saddest attempt he’s ever seen and he feels his heart sinking.

“Why are you crying?”

His reaction is instantaneous — a series of actions so smooth, you’d figure he’d done this a million times. He cups your face and wipes your tears with mittened fingertips. “Why are you crying?” He asks again.

He sounds hurt. He sounds like he just witnessed someone kick an innocent puppy, or a child who dropped their ice cream. He sounds that way because he’s a good person and he doesn’t want you to cry.

“You’re a good person, Ten.” Your voice cracks and you pull his hands away from your face, holding onto him and trying to calm yourself down.

“Please tell me why you’re crying.”

It’s almost like he’s pleading.

In the moment, it doesn’t occur to you that you hardly know this man.

“No reason. It’s okay-“

“People don’t cry for no reason.”

“Ten-“

“Where’s your coat? You don’t even have on a coat.” He begins fussing over you, because he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s never seen you like this before and it’s bothering him. You’re the closest thing he has to a friend in this unfamiliar town, even with your limited number of interactions.

It doesn’t occur to you that Ten is lonely, too.

He pulls you close to him and brushes stray hairs out of your face and he keeps rambling.

“You don’t cry for no reason. And you’re a psychology major so you definitely know that people don’t cry for no reason. Even if it’s for some underlying reason that doesn’t make itself obvious at first. And I’ve never seen you cry. You didn’t even cry when I spilled hot coffee on you. And it was hot.”

You push feebly at his chest. There’s no real effort because he’s warm, and no one has held you with such care in your entire life.

His fussing dwindles into quiet mumbling as your crying dies down.

~~~

Ten takes you to the 24-hour diner a few minutes away from campus.

He walks you to his car, a black sedan with leather seats that smell like vanilla and is filled with empty coffee cups and cd covers piled in the back.

Before you walk into the diner, he forces you into a hoodie, because, you don’t even have on a coat and it’s freezing outside.

He slides it over your head. “It’s clean, I promise.”

It’s the same university hoodie from a few weeks ago. It smells like soap and laundry detergent.

You sit at a booth in the far corner. Right next to a window. He sits across from you and orders your pancakes, and you watch as his earrings twinkle in the terrible lighting.

You can just barely make out your reflection in the window. You see your red nose and puffy eyes and fiddle with the hair tie around your wrist.

Like shit. You look like absolute shit. But you haven’t felt this shitty in awhile.

Ten stays silent. He watches you with his head resting in his palm. He nudges the warm drink towards you.

The smell of coffee is strong as you wrap your fingers around the mug, warmth settling into your fingertips.

“It’s my birthday.”

He nods.

“It made me realize that I’m lonely.”

Silence settles between you too as you focus on the coffee in front of you. You take a sip, the bitter liquid burning your tongue.

“I’m sorry.” You’ve heard that line more than once, sitting in this exact same diner. It’s never been sincere.

He’s being genuine— you know he is. He isn’t like the other guys that have taken you to this diner; The ones who don’t care about anything other than getting you in their beds, meddling their way into your heart and splitting it open when they leave.

“You don’t need to be.”

He reaches for your hand, running his thumb over chipped nail polish and the lines of your palm.

“Someone should,” He starts. “Someone should be sorry that a girl like you is lonely and hurting.”

You eat your pancakes in silence.

~~~

After that night, Ten, for lack of a better description, doesn’t leave you alone.

It’s not unwelcome — not in the slightest. A little overwhelming at times, because you’re not used to having someone look after you the way he does. He makes you nervous at times, with his attention to detail and the way that nothing ever slips past him.

Most nights, he meets you after your shift at the library is over, coffee cup in hand and the smell lingering on him. He walks you to your apartment and tells you about his day; the classes he’s taught, the songs he’s danced to. Some nights, you go to the diner. Others, you take his car and drive to the edge of town, watching the faraway city under starlight as soft music plays from his speaker.

The best nights are when he lets you come back to the practice room with him, where you sit on a pile of makeshift blankets and pillows in the corner and watch him with fascination until your eyes grow tired.

Some days, he brings takeout to your apartment, and you sit and talk until the sun goes down. He tells you about Thailand and all the places he’s been. Other days, you wander into the heart of town during markets and thrift sales.

The best days are when you curl up on the couch of his apartment, feet in his lap and that stupid freshman hoodie on as you watch reruns of old movies and tv shows.

And little by little, you stop feeling lonely.

~~~

Fall blends into winter, leaves no longer cover the limbs of trees, and somewhere along the lines, you feel a shift in your feelings. It’s hardly anything big, hardly anything obvious, but it’s just enough for you to know that something is different.

It’s small - the way you brush his bangs from his eyes, tuck the tags of his shirts in, and hug him a little longer than usual.

You don’t think he notices, and if he does, he refrains from bringing it up. You figure that it’s for the best; keeping the words unsaid like it’s your little secret.

It’s another one of those days where you’re cooped up in his apartment. But something is not right. He’s quieter than usual, knees pulled up to his chest as he stares at the tv screen. He’s not really paying attention, the way his gaze seems kind of far off.

“Hey.” You call softly, voice only a whisper above the movie. You’re only half an hour in, and at this point, it’s just become background noise while you stare at his profile in the dim lighting of the room.

He hums in response, turning to face you and stretching his legs.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” He nods, eyes tired and a slow smile coming to his lips. “I’m okay.”

“Okay.”

And the night goes on like that.

~~~

Ten wonders if lying is for the better when feelings are involved.

He isn’t lying, not necessarily. He is okay — he’s just confused. Conflicted.

He wants to tell you how he feels, but he’s scared. He’s scared of losing the security you guys have built around each other.

But it drives him crazy, little by little.

The way your hug him a little longer, the way you brush his hair out of his eyes.

~~~

It happens suddenly.

“Are you happy?” He questions one afternoon, eyes trained on your silhouette as you stare out the window of his apartment.

You don’t answer immediately, letting the question settle in the silence between you.

The answer scares you, because you are happy, and it’s been so long since you were.

The reason behind that scares you even more, because you’re happiest when you’re with him.

When the smell of coffee lingers in his apartment, when he makes you laugh so hard that tears prick the corners of your eyes.

When he absently brushes the hair from your face, when he reaches for your hand, or when he smiles at you with that smile that feels like it’s only for you.

You lose yourself in your thoughts, snapping out of it when you feel Ten’s palm gently, almost hesitantly, rest on the small of your back.

“You make me happy.” You mumble - words like a whisper, a secret you’ve never told.

The answer is simple enough, if you remove the extras and think about the way he makes your heart race, or the way you look for him when your world turns blue and grey.

The answer has always been simple. The answer has been four little letters etched onto the canvas of your heart. Four little letters you thought you’d never find — in yourself or in anyone else.

Four little letters.

In that moment, when you turn to face him, eyes finding his own and heart beating fast, you make the decision.

Your hands reach for his shirt, tugging him closer to you.

They travel across the planes of his chest, and find each other at the nape of his neck. He wouldn’t have stopped you, even if he needed to.

His arms wrap around you, warmth engulfing your bodies as his eyes find your own. He sees the universe inside of them.

You kiss him, letting your lips tell him all of your secrets and all things unsaid.

~~~

He’s a fool, he thinks, to have fallen so quickly in only a few months.

But, he knows. He knows that when the spring melts the ice on the river, winter fading into a distant memory while the world reverts to its color, he knows that together, you’ll bloom like the flowers around him.

You find those four little words in each other, and the rest turns into a memory, like the fall before winter.

And all that’s left is you and him, and the smell of coffee in the morning.

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct reactions #wayv scenarios #wayv reactions #wayv imagines #wayv fanfic #nct fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #ten x reader #nct x reader #wayv x reader #whew that was a long ass ride 2.0 because tumblre deleteed EVERYTHING i did #anyways am nervous to post sthis bcs it is not got7 #but regardless i hope you love :'(

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