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relocatedheads · 2 years

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Jealous Nelson

Summary: The new kid talks to Charlie, Nick is nothing but a jealous ball... due Nick being totally unhinged in the name of possessiveness Pairing: Nick Nelson x Charlie Spring Trigger Warnings: Smut :? there is a lot of it implied but it’s still here Content Warnings: Blowies

Charlie was fishing through his locker, desperately trying to add some sort of organisation to it - there was only so many times he could cram his life in there before everything got scrunched up or ripped. The boy was also trying to fill the 5-10 minute wait he had until Nick would be done with Geography (even though they finished lessons at the same time, sadly due to Nicks kind approachable personality, he became subjected to his teachers mini geography rants after every lesson). He found himself a little too focused in his tidying to the point hearing his attention being called made him squeal.

“Oh- I'm so sorry.” The voice sounded from his left, Charlie stepped back and looked over, it was a face he didn’t recognise. He must’ve gave a confused look to the boy, “You are Charles Spring, right?”

“Charlie, yah.” He smiled. fiddling with the book in his hands.

The boy happily sighed, “Good! I’m new here, I got told you were someone I could go to if I needed maths tutoring?” While not a question, the boys inflections caused it to be one, Charlie nodded along. “You’re in year 11, right?”

“Yeah. Um, what year are you in?”

“Year 12, I'm new. I didn't pass my maths GCSE so I have to do it again,” the boy shrugged a laugh. “You don’t have to help me if you can’t, or don’t want too, year 11 is a busy year.”

“Oh no no. I’d love to! I'm free Thursdays after school, if you can do that?”

“Oh I'd love that!” He put his hand on Charlie’s arm, “Thank you so much!” They both smiled at each other, the younger one felt his checks redden. “Shall we meet in the library?” Charlie nodded, “I’ll see you around.”

The boy fell into the crowds outside the locker room while Charlie’s head fell into his locker. He huffed out a groan. You didn’t even get his name.

“Hey hottie!”

Charlie yelped, “Fuck- what is it with everyone making me jump today?!” He pulled himself from his locker, to find Nick to his right, wearing his famous slanted smile.

“Who’s your new friend?” The rugby lad teased, crossing his arms.

“OH! No- he’s new. I don’t know his name, but he’s in your year. He wanted to know if I could give him maths tutoring,” Nick hummed and slowly nodded his reply, causing Charlie cross his brows, “What-” His boyfriend offered a confused pout. “-I know that look.”

“What look?” He said still with a tangy face, this time offering a breathy laugh.

Charlie raised his brows at him, smirking “Nicholas Nelson, are you jealous?” He taunted, “How dare a new man interact with little ol’ me.” He was being over dramatic, he could see Nicks brain racking through responses. The duo stood in a half friendly face off for a few seconds: Nick with crossed arms and an unamused face while Charlie was cradling his Latin book in his arms prenteding to be all gushy over the new boy.

Much to Charlies surprise, Nick took a step towards him and in 0.5 of a second, had him pushed up against a locker, one hand above his head, another on his arm and a leg in-between his own, pinning him there until Nick decided enough was enough. This bold move stole the air from Charlies lungs. He couldn't help but smile, he may have lost but he knows in so many different ways, he’d won. Nick threw his lips onto Charlie’s, taking full control. He left love filled, lust peppered, ownership sprinkled kisses all over his partners lips. His hands moved from Charlies arm and rested on the base of Charlie’s throat, he could feel the small whimpers dissolve in his throat. They pulled apart and Nick’s eyes were cemented onto Charlies face. The younger boys eyes ran across Nicks face, his own cheeks were getting hotter by the second.

“You always do kiss better when you agitated.”

“Oh shut up Char...” He tightened his grip on his throat slightly and leaned back in to drop the same kisses upon his boyfriends mouth.

After a minute or two, Charlie tapped Nicks shoulder making him step away, panting at the ability to breath again. “Well Mr Jealous, as much as I'd love to stay here, I've got an English lesson to get to.”

Nick laughed breathily, he lowered his hands onto his boyfriends waist, “Orrr...” He trailed, moving his eyes from Charlie to the toilets down the hall, leaning his head that way too.

Charlie slapped his textbook into Nick’s stomach and began to walk away, only to be pulled back into Nick’s side as he had an arm thrown over his shoulder, “C’mon I'll be quick..”

He let out a chuckle, “I love you,” he put his head on Nicks shoulder, “But I don’t think I want to bring that rumour to life yet.”

-----------------------------------

“it’s an awful film! Who singings to someone and then just.. falls in love!?” The gang: Tao, Issac, Charlie and today they were joined by Nick, were chilling on their lunch bench, the three having to endure Toa’s anti romcom rant for the 100th time this accademic year.

“Taooooo” Charlie put his head in his hands,

“I just wanna believe in romance!” Issac gushed, “Not everything needs to be complicated and extreme and difficult!” Charlie mumbled still from his hands. This action cause Nick to blush.

“Then,” Tao picked up his apple juice, waving it about, “What’s the point?”

“To enjoy the film!” Charlie appeared from his hands, now having his cheeks held in his palms.

“Having something handed to you, is not enjoyable!”

“Having to do research for a film to even begin to understand it, is not enjoyable...” Issac rebuttled waving his book at Tao. The coupled laughed at their squabbling.

After a bit of comfortable silence, Tao said, “Hey Charlie, ain’t that the boy you tutor?” He motioned over to the infamous new kid hanging with Nick’s rugby boys.

“Oh he’s handsome!” Issac noted, “Does he play Rugby?” He asked generally but motioned more to Nick.

Nick mumbled low enough only Charlie could hear, “I fucking hope not.”

Unexpected to the boys, Nick turned to Charlie and planted one of the most rushed, possessive, lust filled kisses he’s ever received on his lips. When they pulled away, Charlie knew he was blushing, he knew too he was smiling like a fool. Just as he pulled away, Nick stood up and left the table. Leaving Charlie in a small haze.

Both boys looked over to the friend with confused expressions. “I don’t think he likes that your tutoring Liam..” Tao laughed.

Charlie groaned, dropping his head back into his hands, “I dont know what his issue is!”

“Charlie. Have you seen Liam!” Issac put his book down, “He’s handsome handsome!”

“Yeah, but like.. he’s not... Nick”

Tao laughed to himself, “Anyway, by the way you reacted to that kiss, I wouldn’t think there’s gonna be much of an issue for you both..”

---------------------

It was after school and it was rugby day. Oddly enough this became one of Charlie’s most loved days of the week. It’d not been long after he was allowed to go back on the team but he found it made his week that much more enjoyable when he could go. Obviously, after everything that’d happened, him rejoining the rugby team amped up Nick’s protective side, being captain he kept a very close eye on him throughout practice.

The boys made their way out to the pitch where Coach Singh was stood with a student, “We got a new player?” Otis questioned.

“Thought we had enough?” “Probably another reserve?” The boys nattered between themselves.

“Nelson! There you are!” Singh yelled to the boy, who waved his arm up to her. She continued her conversation with the student but as she moved, Nick noticed exactly who it was.

Charlie must have sensed his distain, he looked over to his boyfriend and let out the most gorgeous belly chuckle, pushing Nick in the arm.

“Why-” Nick groaned, only causing Charlie to laugh all the more.

When at the pitch, Nick was ushered over by their coach, “This is Nicholas, he’s our captain, and a damn good one at that. He has a stern side, but he’s an all round lovely boy nonetheless.” Nick did he best fake smile, she turns to the pile of boys, “Boys, this is Liam, he’ll be our new reserve. Understandably due to Charlie’s health, it’s beneficial for us to have a second... just incase you’re feeling under the weather, you won’t need to stress yourself if you don’t feel you can play.” She directed the end towards Charlie, who stood rather awkwardly. but smiling at the gesture. Nick couldn't thank his coach for this idea enough, but he held too much frustration over the choice of boy. “Liam used to go to a school in North Essex, he’s an incredible sportsman so I hope you all welcome him with open arms.” There was a choir of mumbled hello’s. “Pair up, you’ll be doing a few drills. Nelson, im putting you with Liam.”

Charlie couldn't hide the shit eating grin on his face, making Nick shake his head in his direction. He felt an arm sling round his shoulders, “I guess I'll adopt you for the moment then.” It was Christian. Charlie got on with him really well, Nick was automatically relaxed at that pairing. He was moderately aware of the younger boys conditions so Nick knew Charlie wouldn't get pushed too far.

as for Liam.... Nick made it his mission. Everyones doing something 3 times? Nick made Liam do it 5 times. Tackle Nick while he didn't move? Oops, look like Nick dodged him. Simple star jumps? No, burpees.

“You tryna kill me, man?” Liam huffed out after his 7th round of: weaving in and out posts, 5 burpees, passing the ball between cones, tackling sponge posts.

“Think of it more like an initiation.” He said rather stilly.

After some time, and lots of masochism from Nick, Coach Singh pulled them back in for team chat. Charlie naturally found himself next to Nick.

“You having fun?” Nick murmured,

“Yeah, miss you though.” He paused, “How’s your new friend doing?” Nick glared at him, causing a little laugh to slip, “Says it all.” Nick playfully pushed his shoulder in Charlie, causing him to topple a little.

“You boys listening?” Coach aimed at them,

“Better than ever!” Nick smiled, Charlie nodding.

“We’re going to work on speed, i want you boys to be quickest on that field! Your play can be fair but if that speed ain’t there, you’re bound to lose.” She paused, “Charlie over here, I want you boys to get closer to him. Some reason the kid is built like a spring bean but runs like a race car, so I doubt you’ll reach him but I want you to surprise me.” The compliment made Nick smile more than Charlie himself.

They lined themselves up, Nick stayed with coach while a handful of the boys took their positions. Charlie was in the first race. He took himself over to his lane, making sure he was ready, focusing on being confident his laces were done up... Again too focused to notice the person next to him. The sudden voice caused him the yelp slightly.

“Oh- again? You’re a rather jumpy lad.” Liam laughed. Charlie smiled, tucking his hands in his sleeves, “I didn't know you were on the rugby team. You don’t strike me as much of the rugby player.”

Charlie smiled at his comment reminiscing on the reason.. much rather person.. that caused him to actually play, “Neither did i.”

“always thought you were the library’s pretty boy.” His comment brought an uncontrolled blush to Charlies face, making him look down. “It’s a nice surprise of character to see you on a field.”

Nick could read him like a book, he knew how Charlie’s behaviours correlated to his feelings so the moment his hands went under his sleeves and his head dipped, he knew he was uncomfortable,, but he couldn’t see if it was a good or bad uncomfortable. All he knew was his stomach was in tight knots and his mouth was glued in a straight line.

The boys got in their starting positions, Nick just hoped to to the heavens that Charlie kept his winning streak. Coach Singh blew her whistle and the boys were off. Nick kept his eyes on them, following Charlie most, much to his expectations, he was fulfilling them. That was until they got to 75 meters. Charlie practically slowed to half his speed and came 3rd by the end.

The moment he got over the finishing line, he felt his lungs and heart were in his throat, Nick stood off to the side but close enough by trying to gage Charlie’s motions. The boy folded his arms above his head trying to get as much oxygen in as possible.

Liam made his way over to Charlie, putting a hand on his arms, “You're very fast for a little lad. You did g-”

A different side of Nick took over, one that he doesn’t use all too often. A little too harshly than expected, he yelled “Spring!” Everyone looked over, Charlie squinted a little knowing what was about to happen, he looked over the Nick with a fake confusion still puffing in air, “Here, now!”

“I'm fine!” He called back, still panting.

Nick just looked at him, arms folded. “Wasn't a question.” every word punctuated perfect. Classic Captain Nelson voice. Charlie felt himself melt.

“Coming Captain!” He replied in an overly friendly yell, only for Nick to recognise the suggestive tone that swam under it. Walking over to his boyfriend, he had a little sway to this step and a smirk on his face.

When he got to Nick, his panting subsided slightly. Nick greeted him with a bottle pointed at him. “Love you!” Charlie smiled, grabbing the drink.

“You didn’t win.”

“Wow. Is that all I mean to you now?” Charlie smirked

“Wha- No.” Nick crossed his brows at him, he put a hand on Charlie’s jaw, “You let him win.”

Charlie couldn't help the belly formed cackled that he had, “Nick! That’s ridiculous-” He put his hand on his arms, “You’re ridiculous.”

His face softened, “Sorry, I don’t know why I'm being like this. Are you okay though?”

He smiled “A little wobbly, but I haven’t exactly ran full sprint in like a year.”

“Thank you for trying anyway. You did really well, honestly.” He planted a soft kiss to Charlies forehead.

“Are you really that jealous of him?”

“Ugh” He groaned against Charlie’s head. Stepping back slightly, he let go of the young boy, wading his hands in his hair “Yes! No? I don't know! Every time he’s with you, I just get all itchy and like I have to just make him aware your mine-” Charlie laughed, “God- I don't know what wrong with me. I don't know if its because he’s like the only one here that doesn’t know you're mine-”

“I’m yours?” This made him blush.

“God yes. You’re mine, isn't that obvious!” Charlie blushed harder, “Mine, mine, mine, in every way. And I don't want him getting any ideas other wise.”

“You’re so cute! Nick, he’d never have a chance, there’s only so much rugby lad I can have in my life,” This made Nick chuckle and relax slightly, “Plus,” Charlie stepped closer to him, talking lower, “nothing and no one can beat,” His hands went to Nicks biceps, “Captain Nick Nelson and his rugby arms.” He spoke with the same tone as when he’d previously called him that.

He swooped down to Charlies ear, “Call me Captain in that tone again and I'll take you right here right now.” His voice went straight to his knees, making Charlie almost buckle, it didn't go unnoticed. “Oh you like that? Having everyone know who's you are? Having Liam know you're mine? Having him see-” his hands brought Charlies chin up so they were looking at each other, “-that you're mine.”

Charlie gasped slightly, his eyes were slightly more glassy, “Yes” He breathed out.

“God you’re captivating.” Nick whispered against his lips sealing them in a heartfelt kiss. If it weren't for Nicks hands under his jaw, Charlie was certain he would've been a puddle on the ground.

-----------------------

Charlie walked from form - which he spent alone today, unknown of Nicks where abouts - to meet Liam at the library for their weekly tutoring session. Charlie didn’t mind this part of his week as it gave him a nice sense of purpose and even though he’ll never admit it, he did enjoy the reaction he got out of Nick because of it: meeting him at his house after for an overly dominant, overly protective Nick Nelson kiss.

Charlie had his headphones thrown over one ear, bag hanging off the opposite shoulder, he was walking the halls at the pace of the muse song not paying too much mind of the world around him. “Charlie!” He heard fainting behind the drums, he lowered the volume and saw Liam waving at him as he walked closer. “Hey! Funny seeing you here,” He joked once having met up with his tutor.

Out of respect, Charlie dropped his headphones to his shoulders, “Hey” He greeted with his warm smile, “Two people who go to the same school, going to the same place, it’s almost impossible they’d bump into each other.”

“Oh he’s bringing joke today! I see!” Liam playfully shoved into him as they made their way to their destination.

“How was your day?”

“It was oaky, thank you. My lessons weren’t too much trouble, got to sit out in PE today and had a drum lesson, quite an easy day. You?”

“Yeah,” He held the door for Charlie and waiting until both were through to continue, “Easy day too, had a free period this morning, had pe after, simples.” There was a pause, “Nick was my partner again. Man does that boy put people through the ringer!”

His comment made Charlie laugh, knowing throughly that tough love was no way near Nicks natural way, “What do you mean?”

“The whole session, it felt like he wanted me dead. We’d do a full set.. bear in mind one of our sets were like 3 of everyone else's and he’d give me like 10 seconds rest.” He rattled off, almost like he was lost in a day dream. “Like how that can kid do so much and not die!?”

Charlie shrugged, “Can’t have the Nick Nelson build without putting in the work, I guess.”

“Where is he anyway? He’s usually glued to you like a lot puppy.” Charlie wondered the same thing

“I’m not too sure.” And as if on que, he came bowling round the corner with Otis, Sai and Christian formed round him. Charlie felt his heart fly to his mouth, he wasn’t too sure what Jealous Nelson was gonna pull today,

“It’s almost as if he heard us,” Liam laughed.

Nick had locked his eyes on Charlie, making a b line straight to him. Sadly, he’d clocked his arms were tensed to his sides and his hands were fanned out... Which only meant one thing. “Oh no,” Charlie murmured under his breath “Hey-” Low and behold Charlie was tossed up over Nicks shoulder before he could even get his words out, “-Oh my god! Put me down!”

“Oi! Give me my tutor back-”

With his back Liam and his friends, Nick kept walking forward, “He’ll be back in 5.”

“C’mon mate, we’ll help you until Charlies back.” Sai guided the 3 of them into the library.

“Nick? Can you put me down now?” Charlie asked still dangling over the lads shoulder.

“Nah.”

“Nick!”

Once they’d made it into the toilets, Charlie was set free and then pulled into a stool. He huffed out a breath, “Very romantic. A school bathroom.”

“We’ll I can’t remind you who’s you are with others watching, can I?” Charlie’s stomach flipped at Nick’s bluntness.

“You wanted to the other day.” He smirked up to his boyfriend.

“Oh I missed that cheek-” Nick lent in and place a love filled kiss to Charlie's lips. He very kindly reciprocated. The two stood- Charlie pushed up against the stall wall- making out like they had done countless times before. So far it was familiar. Charlie’s hands found their way to the back of nicks head while his fell onto to Charlie’s jaw: their usual places.

Charlie broke the kiss, “Why weren't you in form?”

“Couldn’t bare looking at you knowing you were about to spent an hour alone with Liam.” Nick’s eyes felt a little darker than usual. “Knowing I'd have to spend 10 minutes looking at you, knowing I wouldn't be able to send you off to him with a little reminder... I couldn't handle it.” Nick spoke lowly, he mouth centimetres from Charlie’s. “Did he meet you outside form?”

Charlie ran his fingers through Nicks hair, massaging his scalp, “Nah, I was walking to the library and he kinda bumped into me.”

“Hm, What were you talking about?” He eyes stayed pinned to Charlie’s.

“You.” He knew the response this’d get from Nick. “You and you’re...” Charlie’s hands fell to Nicks arms that were locked onto the wall around his frame, he ran his hands down his arms, nails gazing his skin, “... muscles, the way you go above and beyond, how rough you can be,” He took his time in complimenting Nick.

Nick was confident if Charlie kept speaking he’d knees would give out on him, he always had this odd ability to change his tone ever so slightly and cause Nick to melt. Nick threw himself back at this boyfriend, a lot more viciously now. The kisses were less delicate, less neat, less quiet. He bent his arm allowing himself to deepen his kisses, causing a pretty sound to fall in Charlie’s throat. Nick slid his knee in-between his legs. “God, you make such pretty noises for me.”

Charlie was looking at him with lust filled puppy eyes, his hands still hanging on his arm, “Only for you.” Nick was certain he’d met an angel.

“Yah?” Charlie nodded, “Why don’t we get you to make some more, huh? I think I need a little reminder of who's you are.” Charlie was yet again left nodding.

So they kissed, and kissed. and kissed. Charlie hands found their home in Nicks locks. Nicks hands moved to pulling off Charlie’s headphones, chucking off his blazer, loosening his tie and undoing the top button of his shirt. Nick rolled his kisses down to Charlie’s ear lope, taking it in his teeth. This alone caused him to see stars, a whimper bubbled in his throat. “God, them pretty noises.” He spoke barely above a whisper.

He moved down to Charlie neck. This was his favourite place to kiss the boy, ever since Paris, he’d never been able to leave it alone. One kiss and he was already a mess. “Nick-” Charlie tugged on his hair, soon enough the younger boys hands were pinned about his head by one of Nicks hands. The kisses began to be mixed with sucks, licks and open mouth kisses. Charlie had his head leant over so Nick could get as much room as he needed.

“You’re so hot. Every noise you make, so hot.” Nick gushed into his skin, licking a panel of his neck. “All of this, just for me. just because of me.”

“just because of you.” Charlie repeated breathier than ever, rolling his hips into Nick. The elder boy scooted forward so his thigh became a place Charlie could relieve himself on.

Nick pulled back, looking at the state of his partner. The well put together truham golden boy was now pinned in a bathroom stall wall looking fucked out even though he'd only been kissed. Nick smiled at his work, Charlie already entering his headspace, eyes half lidded.

He let out a breathy laugh, knowing Nick was staring at him, “What?”

Nick shock his head, “Nobody would ever believe me-” He pushed his thigh into his groin earning a breautiful shudder from the younger boy. “No one would believe that lovely little Charlie is such a slut of kisses.” This alone made him moan, “And dirty talk, wow.” If he weren’t blushing before, he was now.

“Nick” He sighed, opening his eyes, “I-um please.”

He used his free hand to stroke Charlie’s jaw, “What, baby?”

“Need you.” He paused, “Want you.”

“Do you?” Charlie nodded, Nick took his leg out from in-between his thighs. “You want me to..” He thought for a moment, hand running along the front of his trousers, “... suck you off?” He felt him tense, “Yeah? Make you all fucked out and leave you to go tutor Liam with nothing but me on your mind?” He began undoing Charlie’s trousers, “Make you want to have my cock, make you beg for it but send out to see your friend? Hell I might even send you out there still hard, make tutoring him the most difficult thing.” Charlie let out a cute small moan to this, “Oh” Nick smirked, kissing his neck, “That’s what I'll do, being as you like the idea so much.”

Nick tugged Charlie’s trousers down, pulling away to look at his boy, he stroked he cheek, “Hey, look at me.” Soft calm Nick was back. Charlie flicked his eye open, “you okay with me doing this?”

“Yeah” He smiled, speakly breathlessly,

“You not just agreeing for the sake of it?”

“No- god no” He ran his hands over Nicks, “Please, I want you so bad. Can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me Nick.”

“When we get home, but I wanna have some fun first.” He popped a kiss on Charlie’s head and fell down to his knees, “God you are so beautiful.” He palmed Charlie through his boxers, causing his favourite noise to come from him: a throaty groan. Charlie rolled his head up and covered his face with his hands. “Hey, I wanna see you.” Nick spoke softly.

He places a handful of kisses around the area, soon to pull his boxers down and letting Charlie free. “you’re so hard.” Charlie nodded frantically, “Who made you hard, Charlie?”

“You!” He said a little too eager, making Nick laugh, “You did.”

“That’s right.” He rolled his fist over Charlie’s cock, a couple pumps before continuing, “You’re doing so well for me. So beautiful. Love your cock so much.” Charlie was a head breath, closed eyed, head rolling mess. “You want me to suck you off?”

“Please please please please please” Charlie panted.

Nick licked his tip, causing a gasp to leave the Youngers mouth, “God, you’re such a whore.” Nick began putting more and more of the boy in his mouth, rolling his tongue around his cock, rotating his head as he pulled up from his base, eventually bottoming out so his nose touched Charlie’s pelvic bone.

“Ohmygod-” He whimpered, “-Nick, wow. I love your mouth.”

“Char, you make such pretty noises for me. I wonder if Liam can hear you. Oh he has no clue what im doing to you right now, no clue how good I'm making you feel, no clue how fallen apart you are.” He went back to sucking Charlie, putting his all into bringing his boy so close to the edge but not enough he would go past it. “Your being so good for me.”

“Nick nick nick nick” Charlie spoke to himself, head still rolled back, hands now in Nicks hair, trying to pull his further onto his dick.

“Now now, be good and keep your hands to yourself, Charlie.” He pulled his hands from his hair and pinned them to his sides.

The bathroom will filled with dirty sounds: Charlies whimpers, both their heavy breaths, the sound of saliva squelching.

Charlie’s throat dropped an all too familiar hiccup: a sort of cross between a sigh and a whimper. Nick knew this sound, it meant he was going to come. He remembered the first time he heard it: the two were messing about in Nicks room, it was 3am, they were making out and things went a little further. Charlie was in his lap humping him, a collection of soft small noises were made from Charlie until he made this breath taking sound that lead to him shaking in Nicks arms.

Nick pulled off his boyfriend, leaning back against the other stall wall, panting. He looked up and his partner was well and truly fucked out with a pout on his face. “You stopped?”

“I told you,” Nick stood up bringing Charlie’s pants and trousers up with him. “ I want you to go see Liam all fucked out and hard.” He tucked Charlie back into his bottoms causing a gasp from the boy and for him to steady himself on Nick’s shoulders. “I want you to walk out there with my name all over you, so he knows where he stands.”

Charlie’s head feel into the crook of Nick’s neck, “Sometimes I think you’re a psycho. You’re lucky you’re so hot.”

He laughed, zipping up his trousers, rebutting his shirt and reorganising his tie. “God” Nick gasped. “I'm trying so hard not to fuck you right now. You look so out of it.”

Everything Charlie said had an air of fuzziness to it, and a wave that made him sound sort of drunk. He was sure his brain wasn't even in his head, “I want you to. Please.”

“Go tutor Liam and if you're still good, I'll treat you when we’re home.” He gave him a chase kiss and went to leave the stall.

“Where you going?”

“Doesn't matter, you’ll know soon enough. neaten yourself up a little more before you go out there, yah?” Charlie nodded, still feeling like he was dreaming, he saw Nicks eye drop to his cock and float back up, he laughed to himself and left Charlie alone.

Fucking rugby lads.

Charlie desperately tried to pull himself from his lull. He straightened his blazer up, slung his headphones back round his neck and walked to the mirror, he certainly looked far more hazy. He splashed some water on his face and shook head trying to wake himself up, it worked slightly yet he was still convinced his vision wouldn’t return properly for a while. Huffing to himself, he checked his phone... only 15 minutes later. He recollected his thoughts, trying to push Nick as far back as he could and left the bathroom.

When he made it to the library, he saw Sai, Christian, Otis and Nick sitting with Liam. Oh no why. Liam was head down in his homework, the three boys lent over the table guiding him through the problems and Nick was leant back, arms folded looking directly at Charlie with a small smirk.

Charlie knew he was blushing. The boys movements felt lazy but almost as though they had an unstoppable spring to themselves. The boys looked up over to him having sensed someone close by.

“Oh my god.” Otis laughed, he nudged Nick playfully. “Tell me you didn't actually fuck the poor boy in the toilets again.” He sighed leaning back in his chair, quiet enough only Nick would hear. Charlie sat down with a very blushed face.

Nick’s smirk grew to a proud smile, he remained in his position. He didn't need to correct his friends; his aim was achieved.

“Hi Charlie, you okay?” Liam greeted.

“Yeah,” It was a breathy, daydreamy reply from the young boy. This made Nick laugh to himself.

“What did Nick want so desperately?”

“Um-” Charlie couldn't help but look over to his partner “He just-”

“I needed to show Charlie I found something of mine I'd lost.” Nick filled in, rather monotonedly, only one boy at that table knew exactly what that meant.

“Oh was it anything exciting?”

Nick flicked his eyes at the red marks that lined the neck of Charlie’s collar. “I think so,” He looked back at Liam, “Charlie seemed to be pleased I'd found it.” The boy in question, nodded along.

Charlie and Liam started talking about what area they were going to focus on this lesson, losing themselves in their little conversation. Otis, Sai and Christian joined in at times to tell Charlie what they’d done while he was out. The whole time Nick sat in silence gawking over his lover. After a short while, the three rugby boys shared a small look and one nudged Nick, stealing his attention and returning it with a collective eyebrow raise.

Nick simply shrugged over confidently. The boys laughed to themselves, punching the Caption in his arms. “Who knew Nick Nelson would be a dog!”

“Fuck off”

The trio laughed, “We’re gonna go, you still meeting us at Sai’s later?” Otis asked Nick,

He looked up at the boys, then Charlie, then back at them, “Maybe, gotta take care of some things first, but I'll try come.”

“Oi oiii” “Of course you’ll come!” The boys heckled, punching him in the arms again and cheering as they walked away leaving the library. Nick laughed under his breath, thankful he took them boys back into his life.

“They're a lovely bunch.” Liam noted.

“The better half of the rugby team.” Charlie added. Nick collected his stuff, standing up, gaining Charlie’s attention, “Where you running off to?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty head about me.” He walked a step to Charlie, turning his head up to him, “Behave,” Nick delivered sternly, Charlie blushed, “I’ll be back in 40 to come get ya.” He lent down to kiss him, once he stood back up he saw Liam turn his head away, so he went in for another kiss. As Nick walked off he yelled back, “I love you Charlie Spring!” Charlie laughed loudly as his partners gesture, “I didn’t catch that?”

“I love you too Nick Nelson.” Nicks response was an over dramatic reenactment of him catching the words and pushing them into his heart and him pretending to fall over. Charlie shock his head laughing at the boy.

Nick left the library in full confidence his goal was well and truly achieved.

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comfortwriting · 3 years

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Ashtray Part 4 - D.M

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

This is Part 4 of my Draco Malfoy Mini Series, please read parts 1, 2, and 3.

Warnings: swearing, smoking, mention of food and eating.

“Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.” Snape’s voice echoed in the back of your mind whilst you flicked through your Romeo and Juliet GCSE muggle study materials, forgetting about charms, divination, and hexes, and learning about Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, and John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men instead.

The spring breeze brushed against your tender neck and cheek, causing your hair to blow out of place, the pages in your books flicking over, your bookmark sliding out of the crook and onto the grass.

Sighing, with a cigarette clamped between your lips in the corner of your mouth, you quickly grabbed on to your book, trying to find the page you were on, battling against the strong and unsteady breeze which started to resemble a billion hands, trying to push you away all at once.

Reaching the page you were on, you picked up your bookmark and shoved it back into the crook, sucking on your cigarette and inhaling, you stuffed the books into your bag and rested your head against the giant birch tree you pressed your back up against, looking up at the long, thick branches that welcomed new leaves and blossoming flowers.

“Are you bloody mental?” A familiar voice called out, footsteps stomping towards you.

Choking on your breath, you spluttered, the cigarette shooting out of your mouth and onto the grass, the wind blowing it away before you could pick it up or put it out.

The group of footsteps got closer and then stopped, you stared at the familiar mucky and well-worn shoes that stood out next to the shiny pointed flats in perfect condition, looking up, you were faced with Ron and Hermione.

Feeling your heart drop in your stomach and bracing yourself for another lecture, you continued to stare at them, darting from one pair of eyes to another.

“What do you want?” you sighed, too tired to argue, too drained to explain yourself all over again.

Ron squinted at you “leaving Hogwarts just as you’re about to start your O.W.Ls, Y/N, have you gone mad?”

Your heart started to pound, your stomach suffering fatal blows with each heavy beat.

“It’s nothing to do with you” you replied “I told you that last week!”

Hermione held Ron back from losing his temper, flashing him a look and pulling him behind her. She looked down at your book filled bag and pouted for a moment, pondering her thoughts.

“But why?”

But why? are you kidding me!

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed and laughed lightly, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder as you got to your feet.

“You’re a smart girl, Hermione.” you glared “don’t ask stupid questions.”

Turning away from her and walking away in the other direction, Ron pushed past his girlfriend and grabbed hold of your wrist, pulling you back, his other hand gripping the wand in his pocket tightly.

“Ron!” Hermione hissed.

“No!” You raised your voice “It’s alright, I’ll give you what you bloody want.” You snatched your wrist away from Ron and pushed him away from you, almost causing him to fall onto the grass.

Hermione tried to speak, so did Ron but the fire burning in your stomach became uncontrollable and the embers that flew off spread around your body like wildfire.

Draco, Pansy, Blaise, and his other cronies strolled down the path towards the lake, your raised voice catching their attention and pulling them into the spider web you were accidentally forming around you.

“I fell in love with Draco and he happened to already like me back!” you yelled “I got to know him better than anyone, better than Pansy, better than Blaise, better than Snape!”

Hermione still tried to speak, but only managed to stutter.

“That lad has been treated like shit by his father, he has been forced to do terrible things he didn’t want to do, he was never given a choice and still can’t decide what he wants to do with his own life for himself!”

The fire in your stomach shot up and travelled past your ribs, Draco’s mouth hung wide open, his heart pumping like it never had before in his life, Pansy stared at him out of the corner of her eye.

“He isn’t a death eater by choice! I am not a death eater for helping him gain the courage he so desperately needs to break away from the poison in his life!” you walked towards Hermione and Ron, your index finger pointing at them. “I didn’t decide to fall in love with him, it just happened, I could smell his green apples in my bloody love potion, he could smell my fucking cigarettes!”

You inched closer and closer, now trembling with fury.

“Is this true, Draco?” Pansy snapped, staring at him in horror.

“Well don’t just stare at it, what can you smell?” Snape droned on at you, gliding down the empty classroom.

You closed your eyes and swallowed hard, allowing the scent of green apples and expensive shoe polish to engulf your senses, drowning you.

The scent pulled you away from reality and forced you to relive the picnic with Draco, the perfectly sliced green apples sitting on a plate before you were pulled from that moment and thrust into his arms as the two of you danced slowly and silently in the dark and empty courtyard, his expensive shoes shining in the moonlight, the smell of his shoe polish breaking out into the cold air.

You cleared your throat “I can smell Draco, Professor.” taking a deep breath you opened your eyes and stared into Snape’s pits of darkness “I can smell the green apples he eats, and the expensive shoe polish his dad buys for him.”

The corner of Snape’s mouth curled into a rare smile - a sign of approval rather - Snape’s hand rested on your desk, his eyes focusing hard on your cauldron.

“I want you to hold up your bag” he ordered, watching as you did so “and I want you to take out your Marlboro Cigarettes.”

You felt the air get snatched out of your lungs as you were pulling out the exact cigarette brand.

“How did you-”

“When I asked Malfoy what he could smell” Snape paused for a moment, the corner of his mouth curling upwards even more “he pulled a disapproving face and said the same cigarettes in your hands; Draco could smell you.”

“I had no idea that Harry had feelings for me, he never hinted at such a thing, he never told me, and when you thought I was becoming Mrs Malfoy with a burning desire to pledge allegiance to Voldemort-” you bit down hard on your tongue, having never said his name out loud “before I had a chance to explain everything, you publicly shunned me! the whole of Hogwarts shunned me!”

Hermione and Ron’s faces dropped, other students passing by stopped and stared at you, listening in to every word that flew out of your mouth, Harry could hear everything as he ran towards you, his scar prickling, nausea polluting his system, the vision as clear as day in his mind.

“I can’t eat in the great hall - I have to sit with the bloody house-elves in the kitchens! I can’t go into my own common room, or sleep in my own fucking bed!” Your yelling turned into loud screeches, your throat incredibly raw and sore as if you had swallowed the worlds tiniest razor blades.

Harry reached closer and closer towards you all, panting, desperate to catch his breath and spill everything he had just witnesses, the hairs standing up on his back, fear consuming him and guilt suffocating him.

“Everyone hates me! I hesitated for one moment when Draco asked if I were to choose him over you, my best friends, and when I said it wouldn’t come to that, he shunned me too!”

Tears filled Hermione’s eyes, making her vision go glassy, mirroring you, she had never felt so guilty and wrong in her whole life. Harry fell to his knees, gasping for air and pulling on Ron’s sleeve, trying to speak, gasping as he babbled.

“He’s coming-”

“Harry, take deep breaths mate, I can’t understand what you’re saying”

Breaking out of your rant, you noticed everyone circled around you and watching everything unfold in the distance, Draco stood and stared at you, his heart clawing through his bones and flesh to pull you into his arms where you belonged, but his head cursing you and seeing nothing but red for exposing his vulnerabilities to his peers.

“So now you all know why I’m leaving!” you yelled, addressing everyone, getting on your tiptoes, your arms stretched out as you spun around in a circle “and the best news is that I’m leaving earlier than expected!”

“He’s going to attack-” Harry gasped whilst Ron rubbed his back, concern splashed upon his face, trying to put the pieces together.

“Y/N, we’re sorry!” Hermione cried out, her voice shaking.

“No!” you yelled “you’re not! none of you are!” turning your back to everyone you took off in the other direction, your throat burning like your stomach, your eyes stinging from the tears “and after tomorrow it won’t matter!” you yelled again “I’ll be gone when the morning comes!”

Storming off, your bag bounced and bashed against your back, the heaviness of the books pushing you along with each slam, you could feel Draco’s icy grey eyes carve holes into your spine, your heart yearning out and crying for him.

but it didn’t matter anymore, you were moving on with your life and so would he.

“He’s going to attack her-” Harry gasped, finally catching his breath.

“Who-”

“Voldemort-”

“Who is he going to attack? Hermione-”

“No!” Harry shook his head, burying his hands into the grass, pulling on it, everyone now staring at him “Voldemort is going to attack Y/N!”

Draco’s world stopped, his grey eyes focused on Harry - as Harry’s green eyes that belonged to his mother looked back at the lad he hated with every ounce of his being.

“We need to help her” Harry stressed “both of us.”

Tag list: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @inglourious-imagines @sycathorn-slush @blackqueens01 @astramalfoy @yesimsleepdeprived @fredshufflepuff @a-dusty-emerald @samineisntmyname @hogwartsbroom

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whenlifedaydreams · 3 years

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I loved reading as a kid. I’d borrow 20-30 books from the local library at a time each Sunday and devour them over the week. I was so obsessed that my mum banned me from reading unless it was in bed before sleeping because she thought having my nose constantly in a book was ‘antisocial.’ Since I was only allowed to read at night, sometimes I’d go to bed as early as possible in the excitement of finding out what would happen next! (So in reality it was probably very smart parenting to my mother’s credit!)

But then life got in the way. I got older. I got into Med school. I started obsessively studying late into the night and would collapse into bed at 3am, scroll mindlessly on my phone for another hour and then catch those pathetic 3hrs of sleep before I had to start the grind again.

Let’s just say my physical and mental health wasn’t the best during this time.

I felt guilty that I didn’t read much anymore but every time I tried to get back into it… I failed. Maybe I picked the wrong books? Maybe I was always to tired? A part of me was worried that maybe I had just grown out of the habit and that medicine had killed my once oh so active imagination.

That is, until I picked up the Sands of Arawiya Duology.

I wasn’t sure if I’d actually enjoy the books when I bought them. I heard about them on tiktok and only really bought the books because I wanted to support a Muslim author.

And Wow.

Not to be dramatic but these books absolutely changed my life.

When I was 7yrs old, I obsessed with J.M.Barrie’s Peter Pan books. I believed in that fictional world so much that I used to leave my bedroom window open and wait for Peter Pan to come and whisk me away! I genuinely thought I could fly too whenever I read those stories. I’m no longer a bright-eyed child. I’m more of the burnt-out 22yr old sort. But reading We Hunt the Flame and We Free the Stars has brought back the same childlike wonder I used to have when I dreamt of escaping to Never Neverland. For the first time I feel like the entranced child again!

The characters of this Duology are so charming and endearing. Nadir and Zafira and their epic, passionate, painful romance have taken hold of my entire heart!

The adventures are so thrilling! The epic sword fights and big battles and tricky plans always have me on the edge of my seat (bed? Pillow??).

The world building is impeccable! The world is so vibrant and vast and I just want to explore it so badly it hurts!

It’s an enchanting Arabian Nights tale for the new generation.

The best part is I haven’t even finished reading the series yet! I’m about 20 chapters short of finishing the second book and I’m painfully torn between rushing through the epic conclusion immediately or wanting to spend just a little longer in this beautifully crafted world where I never know what will happen next. I already know I’d sell the devil my soul, mind and body to read these books again for the first time.

Oh also, I’m thriving! It’s more than just a quick escape to another world, reading these books has helped me return to the better lifestyle and habits I used to have back when I still was the gifted kid. I want to go to bed on time again. I want to put away my phone. I want to take a break from my workaholic lifestyle and just let myself get lost to the magic and mystique of these incredible books. As a consequence, in terms of med school, I’m doing better than ever before!

Long story short, We Hunt the Flame and We Free The Stars by @hafsahfaizal lifted me out of the shadows of my flailing mental health and made me a book lover once again. And I am so ridiculously grateful. Im not an artist, I’m a medic who did an art GCSE many many years ago! So this drawing probably isn’t that great by any means nor captures the essence of these incredible books the way it should. But I just love these two fools too much to not to doodle them in my downtime!

Any followers I have are probs for my random Tangled artwork, so this post probably won’t get very far but man I just needed to express how much I love these books and how strongly I would recommend them.

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catchmewiddershins · 3 years

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ahh ok ok, it's good !! i'm only halfway thru but mAN, i'm hooked HAHA, and abt the type, mmm i don't really have a preference tbh, i just take a look at the blurb and if it's interesting to me, then i send a message to my mom n she decided whether to buy it or not

as for recs, i've only gotten into reading recently, but i have a few that i've been wanting to read

- agatha christie seems to be pretty popular, and i think she writes on horror, so i'll look into that

- there's also this guy, anthony horowitz, and i'm very interested in reading a book of his, the word is murder (it's out of stock on our local bookstore, so i'm just waiting on it)

- one of us is lying and one of us is next is popular with my friends and classmates, so i'm interested in it as well

but do you have any book recs? i'd like to get more into it, but i haven't been able to find a lot of good ones ; i dont mind the genre, i just get at what seems interesting to me, so feel free to drop your favorites :D

HMMMM IMMA CHECK THAT ONE OUT :DD

ok so what you got sounds good I'll give you some basic recs because I want to explore the genre a bit more myself lol (my sister also really wants to read One of us is Lying lol)

Classics (not old but like... famous):

- an Inspector Calls - a play that's quite famous, it's a script so it's all dialogue and the story is revealed through an interrogation it's a classic for a reason :) - An inspector comes to the house of a rich family in the (oh dear) like mid 1800s? Anyway he claims that they are all guilty of driving a working class woman to suicide and the whole story is slowly revealed it's so GOOD

- Oedipus Rex - ok this is an old classic but :)))) what can I say - it's another play and it's good! Technically it's a tragedy but the plot of the tragedy is Oedipus trying to solve a mystery - chances are you know the ending but that's the point, knowing the ending creates tension as he tries to figure it out and you wonder when the ball is going to drop

- Sherlock Holmes - I... I haven't actually read these but one of my best friends has and she KEEPS bugging me to read them so it's on the list because it's a classic and also my bestie likes them

- Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde - Pretty short! And so so good! You probably recognise the story and it has it's fame for a reason... t's written from the POV of this Judge? I think? I can't remember his career, anyway he becomes involved in these murders and he decides to find out who's doing it and then track the perpetrator down and it's also sci-fi and psychological I believe anyway definite recommendation

Lower level (so like ages 11 - 15? I mean that's the age I was when I read them so):

- The Mysterious Benedict Society series - honestly? I want to reread these because a television adaption is coming out and I'm mad about some of the cuts they made - it's about a group of children recruited to stop someone from brainwashing the world

- the Lady Grace mysteries - definitely around the 11/12 age when I read these so they're quite an easy read but what can I say I still like them and easy reads are good and fun - it's set in the late 1500s and the main character is Grace, goddaughter to Queen Elizabeth the first, and she becomes a private detective for the Queen for various murders happening around court while outwitting the official (male) detective who thinks that her observations are worth pretty much nothing - she also has to keep it a secret from the other Maids of Honour (like ladies in waiting but... nobles)

- Orphan Monster Spy - ok I loved this when I read it at... 13/14/15? Anyway it's about a Jewish girl in WW2 who goes undercover at a school for nazi's children to gather information it is very good

- The murder most unladylike series - OK this I read at 10/11/12 as well but just because books are for younger audiences doesn't mean they aren't gripping and they're often more creative! My sister is reading this atm and she loves it ehe - it's two girls at a boarding school that start solving mysteries together

Higher Level (so like... 15/16/17? When I read or have been recommended and all that jazz):

- Oryx and Crake - This is written by Margaret Atwood which means it's good. The woman is a legend! Handmaid's Tale COULD be considered thriller or smth like it's sci-fi but like... cmon so that's another rec by her. My English teacher and my mum keep recommending me this but I haven't started it yet... general consensus is it's good though!

- Jane Harper - She's an author who's mysteries are apparently pretty good? I have one and they all seem to be popular sooooo a recommendation :)

- The Declaration + sequels - These are written by Gemma Malley and ALL I CAN REMEMBER ABOUT HOW GOOD THEY ARE is that when I was taking my GCSE mocks (I was 15 half of us were 16) we had to do revision in an exam hall and um anyway I read this book and the Resistance instead and did not do any revision I was hooked - not really a mystery or crime technically I don't think but definitely that vibe - Basically it's a future world where children just aren't a thing? The government has designed drugs for longevity and kids born outside of the law become 'surplus' and are all housed together but this girl meets a boy from outside (I cannot for the life of me remember if they get together or not) and they escape and go to investigate the government and where these drugs are coming from

I'll add more if I read them... IDEA! This list will have a tag (#wid's book recs! and #wid's mystery recs!) so I'll add recs to it when I get them so it'll be constantly evolving and I'll do the same for other genres at some point! I had a few more that I wanted to add but I forgot and the cat is being clingy

#🕰️ deiseil #clockhand: maia 💥#hour hands!#wid talks books #wid's book recs!#wid's mystery recs!

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inthedarkofficial · 3 years

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Stats at 25

I did this at 18 and at 21 because they felt like milestones, and... well, so does 25, I guess. It's going under this time though, because you know what that is? Growth.

Novels Written: In the Dark (no, really, it's done this time!), Dragons, In the Flames (which was meant to be In the Know), and I'm about 31,000 words into the real In the Know

Poems written: 40+

Agent Rejections: 21 this year alone (and I at about 30 total? Fuck)

Agent Requests: On their way, of course

Works planned: 15 novels, 4 short story collections, 1 encyclopaedia. 1 poetry collection, 1 short play, 1 nonfiction essay.

Publishing credits: 1 that we talk about (FourxFour baby!)

Characters: where do they keep coming from?

Lives lived: Why did I phrase this in the past tense? It's still happening

Life path: One step at a time, but an author, always

Books Read: Not as many as I'd like

Books to Read: A lot more than I'd like

Concerts seen: 27

Grades in piano: 3 (why do I keep including this?)

Memories: Treasured and painful and apparently something I have to fight for

Time: Lost all meaning this last year

Nickname: Still going by Padfoot, call me Roro and I will cut you

Clothes: So! Many! Clothes! but they make me feel better than ever

Style: It changes every day because I change every day

Friendships: How did I make new, incredible friends during a lockdown? I don't know, but gods bless D&D

Parents: We survived together in one house locked down for over a year, I'm so grateful for them

Family: I miss you Kali. I miss you nan. I want to hug you, Maddison. I want to give all of you a hug, honestly.

Enemies: I'm still coming for you, Derek

Sexuality: I keep looking closer and closer to see what the ins and outs are, but I'm bi and queer and that's enough

Gender: I fucking came out as genderqueer and I've started playing with pronouns and gender presentation and honestly? Never felt better

Hair colours: Literally could not tell you anymore. How many? Who knows. I want another.

Education: A in 11+, 2 A* and 8 A GCSEs, 1 A* and 2 A A Levels, 2.1 English Literature Degree, and I will finish this fucking proofreading course! Also, that masters degree is really calling me like a siren...

Tattoos: 2, and as soon as Covid allows it, I'll be getting more

Continents : 3

Countries: 10

Cities: I clearly counted this wrong and now? no clue

Homes: About to be 9!

Places to visit: I just want to go and see (and meet!) my friends, honestly

Vaginismus: Diagnosed! Fucking diagnosed!

Dilators: size 2!

Relationship status: Not going to be fucking decided by what some fucking Western doctor thinks I should be using my vagina for holy gods.

Standards: I want to be loved right down to my scalp. I enjoy my own company too much to settle for less.

Tears shed: My eyes hurt

Laughter: My ribs hurt

Jobs: 5, +writer, always. Fingers crossed for some sweet, sweet income soon though.

Readings: More! Let me do more! Covid, you bitch!

D&D campaigns: 1 abandoned, 1 shelved, 2 ongoing, 1 beginning soon

D&D Podcasts: R.I.P. Edge of Night

D&D characters: Where are all you stupid bisexuals coming from? (Not you, Caleb, we're thrilled to have you here)

Clean: Been a daily struggle this year. Not quite succeeding sometimes. But never fully relapsed. I can be proud of that.

Mental health: Ups and downs, but I'm taking back control

Physical health: Ready to fight doctors, but I'm getting there

Height: 5′2″, do I really need to keep recording this?

Shoes size: 3 (uk), I totally need to keep recording this

Weight: Most days I like my body, and that's a big improvement

Puns: cannot count how many times I got kicked out of skype calls this year

Beliefs: Maybe it's better to have ideas, but I've found names to give power to, powers to give love to, I have principles I live by, the faeries in the garden still get offerings, hawthorn trees carpet the garden in flowers, and I am enough. The worls is on fire, and full of people doing harm for no reason, so it's hard to believe that the world is good, but my life, at its core, is a good life. And I'm so grateful, even when things are hard.

Happy memories: even in the darkest and hardest of times, I have had moments of pride, and moments I felt loved. I know what unconditional love is. What could be better

Sad memories: Reclaimed, remembered, and not going to fucking control me.

How the things I planned to do at 21 panned out: actually learned what it takes to find an agent and though it took longer than I planned, I am now doing that process. Gave up krav maga, no regrets. Did finish my third novel (at least, first draft), then learned it was the wrong novel. But I did write a whole other novel. Graduated UEA with a 2.1. Successfully left Norwich and never have to fucking return! Have done freelance editing work and got a job at Debenhams, though Covid fucked those a bit. Wrote that fucking dissertation and it's fabulous. Did see Hamilton. Did put more hats on Cicero before he broke (but he's now getting repaired!) Decided a TEFL was an insane idea, I hate teaching. Did, indeed, continue to live and did a whole lot else.

Goals at 25: Keep submitting to agents, finish In the Know and work on the faery books, continue my physical and mental health journey, keep working with the dilators, move into my own house (!), find a steady source of income, start getting my poetry and other writing out there, finish my vaginismus article, visit my friends, get a new tattoo, keep volunteering at Pride, play enough D&D to justify all these fucking dice sets, get Cicero back, keep building the life I want.

Life at 25 years: when I wrote my "Stats at 21" post, I didn't know how much denial I was in. I'd totally repressed the memory of being sexually assaulted and I didn't even know about a condition that I've just learned has likely been impacting me in multiple ways all my life. I hadn't even met a person who would become one of my best friends, and then my boyfriend, and then my ex, and then totally out of my life by the time I write this. I barely knew the guy who is now one of the most important people in the world to me. I was only beginning to question my gender. I'd not questioned my sexuality in years. I've been through counselling, learned to stand up for myself, worked on so many projects I couldn't even imagine being a part of back then, been on a huge vaginismus journey that's still on going, started playing D&D, went to the graduation ceremony I never planned to attend, and I'm about to have my own house, just to point to a select few things. There's been a global pandemic (still ongoing), movements and trials that helped me find my truth and broke my heart, Brexit fucking happened, I lost my best, dearest and oldest friend (I love you Kali) and my nan... I could not have imagined what 25 would look like on the night I turned 21, just like at 18, 21 was impossible to picture.

So I guess... hi future Rowan. Happy 27th birthday (of course it's going to be 27). What does your world look like now? Did we fall in love? Did we make good dilator progress? How's the house? Did we decide on kids? I cannot begin to wonder what your world looks like, but I swear, I'm working on making it good.

"Soft and slow/Watch the minutes go/Count outloud/ So we know you don't keep them for yourself." - Halsey

#personal #rowan rants #bisexual cancerians who talk to trees day #no one should feel any inclination to read this #I am simply allowed my little public journalilng rituals #as a treat #july 3rd

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captaindibbzy · 3 years

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Reading through some of the replies on that post about American schools, and I’m just in awe.

Ok so my experience of schools in the UK is not great. I have a long list of problems with them, and the standard of education and the postcode lottery involved.

But the bathrooms never went without soap or toilet paper.

We never bought our own text books, or work books.

My primary school (4 to 11 years old) never made us buy writing implements, and in secondary school (11 to 16) we had a short list including a pen, a pencil, and a math set.

We never bought our own art equipment.

We never had to buy paper, not even when people were wasting it in the computer labs by printing out gobshite.

When my secondary school got a grant to do up the school they did indeed build a new sports centre with new equipment. They then used more of that money to turn the old gym in to a drama centre. They did up the technology rooms (Textiles, Food Tec, Resistant Materials, Electronics, and Graphic Design). They got new computer labs, and new art rooms, a new library and an extra lunch room for people who brought packed lunches, New science rooms, new music rooms, AND a new RE room and a chapel. (We were a Religious school). We even got new chairs in the hall (the old ones had been bought in like the 70′s). They added a new pair of bathrooms, and a lift.

They couldn’t afford a librarian to actually man the library, but it was there and could be used in lesson time.

And when the new sports centre opened we were still using the same netball bibs for team sports that had probably been got in the 80′s and hadn’t been washed since.

We did have extra curricula team sports, but they were not big events. I don’t know what they played. We also had Young Enterprise, and Choir, and Music Lessons, and I took an entire extra GCSE in resistant materials in after hours.

I never had to pay for the wood I used.

And I have to emphasize here: my education was not good. My school was a good school, but it was biased towards people who were deemed more intelligent. They predicted me a D when I was 11 and if I got better than that in class they didn’t need to fret about me or push me any harder.

Schools these days have been known to hand out food packages to families, and let people use their washing facilities, and now provide breakfast. Teachers do still spend their money helping kids in class, and providing for them when they shouldn’t have too. There is a lot that could be improved about the education system, and if you ask I will rant about this for literal hours.

But never ever have I heard of a school asking students to bring their own toilet paper.

#Personal #Education

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space-helen · 4 years

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So there’s going to be a nice rant under the cut about reading and my childhood so yeah... read if ya wanna but you dont have too.

So like as a child I loved to read but I only had like the disney books or childrens books. i dont think my parents really understood what teenage/YA books were so I was never brought full length books really and like... We didn’t really have the money for them. I’d get brought a magazine once in a while (The Jaqueline Wilson mag mainly ngl) and you’d get like a teaser length book in them and that’s what I lived off. I’d occasionally get a book from the school book fare but treasured whatever I had. My bedroom as a kid was COVERED in black mould as well like.... it probably was so unsafe to live in but whatever I did probably gonna pay for that later in life, but it RUINED a lot of the books I had but ce la vie

Then in secondary school I sort of stopped reading because it became a chore through English, then GCSE’s happened and yeah no reading for me really, I brought the twilight Saga in like 2015/16 but barely read them, I think I actually skimmed them... But in sixth form I started reading more plays because I was involved with theatre and enjoyed them. I purchased 3 ‘classic novels’ with some birthday money at 17 but started to read Great Expectations and couldn’t get into it and reading was forgotten about once again... I read textbooks for sixth form and uni but not anything else.

Last year however I brought Defending Jacob and Mission Flats by William Landay, yes it took me like 4 months to finish Defending Jacob because I’m a slow reader and I didn’t have time but I enjoyed it so much. I moved onto Mission Flats and it also took me 3 months to finish because I had a lot going on but I again enjoyed it thoroughly.

For my birthday in June I asked for books and I got a bunch. Since then I’ve read 6 new books and re-read the first twilight. I’ve asked for more for christmas and I’ve managed to get my hands on the Harry Potter Books to read since I never have. (currently reading the first one, also JKR is trash) I also treated myself to Frankenstein this morning and I’m very hyped for it.

There isn’t really an point to this post just that I guess I’ve found something I really enjoy doing. Yes I do read slow and get anxious thinking about what my next read is going to be.

Anyone got any books they’d recommend? Want to know what I’ve read over the summer? Any classics you’d suggest I read?

So uh yeah... thank you for reading this I guess

#lmao rant

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jawnkeets · 4 years

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How are you so clever??? I’m new to your blog and I’ve been looking at your posts (not in a stalkery way but because they’re so cool) and you seem super intelligent! Like you always reference things I’ve never heard of and use fancy words and it’s just really awesome. How did you get so clever? Do you read a lot or are you just naturally clever? If it’s from reading then what books would you recommend to someone who’s interested in literature and also broadening their general knowledge? Thanks

awwww. well thanks for the lovely ask!! this is way too much detail bc i’m procrastinating work but

i read a ton as a kid, mostly horror books - i was obsessed with the supernatural, and especially vampires, and the idea of things changing into other things (in a magical way, but also stories where characters develop and end up very different, tales of betrayal etc). my favourite series when i was little was the spiderwick chronicles, followed a little later by the saga of darren shan. i didn’t read any classic literature at all though, as i’d decided i hated it for some reason. as a kid i always prided myself on my creativity/ imagination rather than my intelligence (it’s a distinction i’d always drawn and still do after a fashion), but i was and have always been obsessive, and also used to sit and play memory games for hours, too; i remember one where i’d have a list of cards and i’d put one down, say what it was, turn it over, add another one, say what the previous one and this one was, turn them over, and continue until i couldn’t remember every single card in order, and then i’d start again. i wrote a lot, especially poetry, and used a thesaurus often because i loved words. i had a very very vivid imagination and refused to live in the real world until the age of about 11 or 12. then from 14 onwards i read almost nothing (apart from like idk two of the hunger games books) until i was 17, when i finally started reading classic literature, triggered by the great gatsby, which changed my attitude to learning completely. until then i’d despised secondary school partly because of the way learning was presented (i got good grades at gcse but went through the syllabus and exams mechanically with little genuine love) and partly for… other reasons, and had almost given up on taking academics seriously. but i got very lucky and had an incredible english teacher throughout sixth form, who encouraged me to take risks and break from methodical, formulaic writing. at the end of the first essay i had to do for him i still remember that he wrote ‘literature is for you. now and always. carry on.’ at the bottom, and that changed my life. he also introduced me to philip larkin and romantic poetry outside of class. after that, i was gripped by the desire to read and discover as much about the humanities as i could, make links between works, discover new ones, recover the feeling that i was possessed by after finishing gatsby. tumblr genuinely helped with art, literature quotes, and making it all seem accessible, e.g. seeing text posts making jokes about shakespeare, keats, etc helped to demystify a bit. yes, dark academia, i’m also looking at you for making learning seem exciting, but tentatively and with narrowed eyes. general knowledge-wise, it helped me to begin to break down the barriers between ‘subjects’ at school (even if you’ve left school, it’s pretty branded into our brains); they’re sometimes very fuzzy and even arbitrary, and to separate into strictly-defined categories like this is not the only way learning can or should happen.

a work that i thoroughly recommend to everyone who asks where to start is letters to a young poet by rainer maria rilke. he relates so perfectly this idea that the first step is to let yourself be filled with how amazing and vast the world is, and how much there is to read, listen to, and see. that’s not something you can learn from reading, and it’s not something you can be taught by anyone (unless being inspired by someone counts). it’s instrumentally important because it will drive you, but i also think it’s inseparable from understanding (and to me, it is understanding, just understanding without the right words yet). this is the highlight, and it was the mantra stuck up on my wall at 17 when i decided i wanted to learn, and learn seriously:

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.

i was relatively articulate before i started reading the classics/ reading widely, but not exceptionally articulate. here’s an example of two essay openings - one i wrote when i was 16, and one i wrote during my first term at university (2 years apart):

i’d say that since then my essays have probably improved by a similar proportion, as i’m as embarrassed to read the second as i was the first when i wrote the second, and the typos r annoying me (am too embarrassed to post recent writing :’( - doesn’t count if over a year and a half ago, hence posting the second :p). obviously, then, this isn’t natural intelligence (everyone has to get knowledge, big words, etc from somewhere, right?), this is natural receptivity and willingness to learn, which i genuinely believe anyone can gain at any point, coupled with A LOT of reading the opinions of others (i.e. literary criticism and theory), and reading literature from many different periods to discover how language is moulded by individual poets and by ‘eras’ more widely. but this is also synthesising everything i absorb into a personal vision (this is the hill i will die on soz i don’t think theory should be ‘objective’ like what does that even mean). you can and should put yourself into it!

in terms of what to read - if you like the rilke (really hope you do!!) then depending on what you like about it, you can search from there. try some of rilke’s poetry. or if you like that ineffable feeling it brings, try the romantics (keats’ ‘ode to a nightingale’ and blake’s songs of innocence and experience are good to start with!), or larkin’s ‘high windows’ and ‘the mower’. also try shakespeare’s hamlet, because that is INCREDIBLE (watching it is always easier, and the more shakespeare you watch/ read the easier it gets! andrew scott’s hamlet is the best imo). from there it’s a question of asking what you liked about what you just read (time period/ vibe/ themes/ subject/ style of writing) and finding things similar - often google works and i made use of it a lot to start with, tumblr too, otherwise ask people who you know (on the internet/ teachers/ friends etc). this is a personal journey, especially to begin with, i think (you have to jump in somewhere), and there’s no one who can give you a list of books to read in the order best for you, because - annoyingly, i know - that’s something it’s best if each individual works out through trial and error, and part of the fun in truth. there are western canon lists out there, e.g., which contain some fabulous works, but have very obvious problems.

a really really rough chronological development of english lit: beowulf, any of the canterbury tales, hamlet, paradise lost, pope’s satire, romantic poetry, victorian novels (e.g. david copperfield, jane eyre), the waste land, waiting for godot (it would also help to read the iliad, the aeneid, and metamorphoses too, and as much of the bible as you can, especially genesis, exodus, isaiah, job, and the gospels, but genesis and the gospels first if ur stuck/ overwhelmed). this is the lightest of pencil sketches, but if they’re works that go some way towards defining each ‘era’ or ‘period’, then it becomes a little easier to search for works branching off from these that are influenced by or chafe against them. you can always come back to me if you’re struggling with what to look for next :+) also, i have a list of my poetry favs, if you want to check that out (it includes the stuff mentioned in the previous paragraph, as well as others).

hope this helps (?!) ❤️

#asks

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jesswsc1 · 3 years

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Initially, I wasn’t overly sure how to interpret our title of ‘black books and black holes’. I’ve felt awfully low for a while, and it’s been heavy on my mind, so I figured I’d take this project as somewhat of an opportunity to reflect on the past, troubles i’ve had as well as using it as a kind of venting of current frustrations. These low points act as my own personal black hole, as I fall down into them for some time. Similarly to how black does, they absorb any kind of light surrounding. To me, at times, this has meant not enjoying things I’ve adored prior - such as spending time with loved ones, music and hobbies. Growing up there were several black holes, but amongst them I have fond memories with my cousins, siblings and childhood friends. Somebody who has always been there for me (whether it be through choice or not) has been my brother. I decided to incorporate pictures of us throughout my little black book as homage to him as he is truly one of my favourite people ever, despite the troubles I don’t think our bond has ever gone away - it’s merely taken small redirections. I have such admiration for him and know I can rely on him and speak free from judgement. Years ago, I believe it was 2013, he fell ill and this meant he had to be hospitalised for a couple months. It was really hard for my family and was of course even more difficult for him. Seeing as he was hospitalised, this meant regular trips to the hospital, on the car journeys we’d always have the same Passenger CD playing in the car. I guess we just never got around to changing it. On this CD was a particular song that we’d all sing along to, which funnily enough is called ‘holes’. Hearing this song now makes me feel so safe and hopeful, knowing it got me as well as my family through a rough period in time. I made sure to incorporate some of the lyrics into one of my book spreads. One line reads, ‘but we carry on’, which has definitely stuck with me.

The constellation element of our project had me reflecting on space and the universe, and what exactly it means to me. Although I’m not too into space, I’m definitely fond of the moon. After my parents divorced, I was left in custody of my mum for a while. A teacher told me to look at the moon, because she’d be looking at it too at the same time and thinking of me. During this time I was living in a troubled home (I made this house the exterior of my book*) and would be heavily supported by her in school. She’d give me notebooks to express myself in and explain what was happening, as well as a departing gift when I inevitably left to go live with my dad here in Bury. Despite being a small part of my life, she still means a lot to me and has a place in my heart. Though not physically present with me anymore, she cared enough to find me years later and reached out to make sure I'm doing fine. It's reassuring knowing there are people as pure as she is. Because of this I dedicated a small section of my book to her that looks like a slither of the moon when the pages are flipped back onto it.

My black book was titled ‘Wailing Ghosts’ by Pu Songling, containing 14 tales of various monsters and creatures, which is fitting to my work revolving around numerous burdens I have that seem to act as these little monsters also, creeping up every now and again. I did consider creating my own ‘chapters’, one for each black hole of mine, but didn’t want to structure my book in that way as I didn’t want to disrupt my creativity or force things.

I say ‘was’ because I actually decided I wasn’t all that keen on how i’d layed my pages out. I instead took a second black book and collaged, reworked and inserted pages into a new one. I’m really glad I did so, as I now have a book I much prefer over the first. An aspect I did keep relatively whole was the swirly, illusion-looking front cover with a hole burned through the centre, almost like a little entrance to another world. Stanley Donwood inspired this page through his swirly seas he often features in his works, as he uses a bold thick line against white ones. I opted to put this page underneath my front cover so it still got to be showcased - only cutting a part off the corners to make sure it fit.

Featured in my book are a few small self portraits, in varying cartoon-y styles. Some are only inspired by my face whilst others were drawn whilst staring into the mirror, then back at the page. Having struggled with low self esteem, there have been times where I don’t even want to perceive myself let alone interpret that into a drawing. Meanwhile doing my book work, I realised I have never drawn a self portrait - not since being a kid anyway - and had even actively avoided doing so during GCSE art. Over the past year or so, I’ve overcome an array of issues I’d had, so found myself able to draw these little portraits. It sounds pretty insane to me now that I would’ve found it so hard before, knowing I enjoyed coming up with various ways to put me in my book, even wanting to print pictures of me (sadly our printers decided to act up so I was not able to implement these). I feature my bathroom mirror on one page as it’s been the target of over-analyzing and although I have come far in self love, it still remains a deadly weapon.

Claude Heath’s sketchy, rough portraits inspired me to create my own. I really enjoy how reckless his style is, as I'm trying to escape the ‘this has to be perfect’ mentality, Heath is a great example of how you don’t need to overthink your work. It can just exist and look cool. It’s fine. This was also encouraged in Thursday drawing sessions where we did blind drawings. I kept this mindset whilst doing my book as I tend to either overwork myself trying to create ‘perfect’ or do absolutely nothing, so I went with the flow of how my book panned out.

Seeing as my work theme is a little on the darker side, I considered subduing the colours or perhaps even going full black and white. However, I love utilising colour in my art and felt this would make me feel unmotivated and uninspired. Especially seeing as this book is about me, it’s not insensitive to anybody to make it colorful and exciting. So, I have. Plus, despite everything I’m still smiling so I wanted to convey that somehow. Sort of, making the best out of bad situations. Damien Hirst’s usage of colours influenced me to just have fun with it, in the same way he does when creating his works.

Throughout my book I have experimented with oil pastel, paint, staples, collage, rorschach ink blotting, screen printing, spray paint, photocopied pictures, flip book, tracing paper, washi tape and i’m sure there’s more. Point is, I wanted to cover a wide range of techniques seeing as there were many pages. In doing so I believe this was the best way as it meant there was a flow of ideas coming as I worked. I’ve learned that I love a range of ways of working as it keeps my brain ticking, meaning the work doesn’t feel stagnant and dull. Sadly there were lots more ideas I had for what to do into my book, but due to various reasons I couldn't. Such as wanting to sew using a sewing machine into my book, I tried to set my sewing machine up but when I would go to sew the thread would snap. But I believe it’s definitely something worth trying another time, as I was intrigued to see how it’d turn out. I also wanted to make a better flip book from the corner of my little page (see animation on blog) as it’s really simplistic. But drawing the little stick men alone took me an hour or so, and I didn’t see that being of much importance compared to getting actual pages filled out. Thus, I left it as a simple stickman. That being said I think the stick man illustrates the cycle of being in a slump, which is relatable to how lockdown is feeling and fits well with my book contents. I felt inspired by an artist who goes by ‘inhalerqueen’ (Amanda) on tiktok, who draws a simple, silhouette-like figure repeatedly. She calls this figure ‘void’ and i’d consider her work to be vent art, expressing how she feels. Originally I wanted to make my stick men look like void, however I don’t think that would be all that beneficial/change the effectiveness and would only take up more time.

If I were to have a soundtrack to my work I would opt for ‘Yellow’ by Coldplay. Reason being, regardless of my state of mind I return to this song and feel the same listening through every time. It’s such a lovely song and just feels like peace, as cheesy as that may sound considering Coldplay is very much dad music. It reminds me of my yellows, and how much they mean to me. Even with the black, I have my yellows. Lyrics to the song can be found in my book also.

Overall, I’m relatively pleased with my work. There’s no doubt things I would do differently, but I’m glad I’ve had this experience and was able to vent a little similarly to how Amanda does. In future I hope to perhaps recreate this book and treat it as kind of a ‘rough’ or ‘plan’ for a more refined and thought-out version, perhaps this time with chapters like I'd considered and with ideas I didn’t get to delve into. There are pages I’m not so keen on, but I’m proud of myself for just leaving them as opposed to overworking them and/or scrapping them just because they aren’t what I like. I love the pictures of me and my brother, if I could I would’ve collaged more into my book however our printer simply wouldn’t allow it. As well as the exterior of the book, as I think it adds a personal element as opposed to being left as it was.

#blackbooksandblackholes #jessblackbooksandblackholes

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katatty · 4 years

Text

meet the simmer - TS2 Edition

I was tagged to do this by @mrslandgraab - thank you!

Your name: Kat!

Languages you speak: Just English, and extremely low-level GCSE French :(

Are you a mermaid?: Sure! I live in a coastal town & was a huge mermaid & dolphin girl as a kid, even had an underwater/dolphin themed bedroom. These days my vibe is more witch-y than mermaid-y, but I’m down with being any kinda cool fantasy lady, haha

Your play style: It’s a mix, yeah! I tend to play with a lot of structure (rounds, challenges, etc.) but keep the rules pretty loose & optimise more for storytelling than anything. It varies a lot between saves and sometimes even between families, haha.

Your Simself picture: Gosh, I haven’t played with a simself in forever... here’s one from 2015, lmao:

She doesn’t really look anything like me since I wasn’t the best at faces in those days, and my style has definitely changed in the last 5 years (although the hair isn’t all that different) so maybe I’ll make a new one, just for fun?

Stories or gameplay, builds, look books, edits or CC: Gameplay & builds, mostly!

Your favorite age state: Young Adults, university is my favourite! :D

Your favorite season: Spring or Autumn - I like that nice in-between weather and the feeling of the world chaning...

Your favorite holiday: Christmas, definitely! It can be kind of a stressful holiday but it gives me such a strong feeling of community and love, with family, friends, hell even on simblr! It’s the only time of year I really get together with my extended family. I also love the food, the decorations, the lights, Christmas pantos, classic films on TV, ghost stories... it’s got it all, imo!

How was your day?: So far so good! It’s been a weekend of having absolutely no plans (courtesy of corvid-19, heh) and just kinda relaxing. It’s a worrying time in a way but it’s also been nice to not have to worry about cramming as much as possible into the weekend & just being, yknow?

Your favorite career: I like running a OFB career the best but other than that... maybe crime, haha?

Your favorite aspiration: Knowledge & Pleasure!

Your favorite EP, GP and SP: Probably Mansion & Garden, I can’t live without all that gorgeous garden decoration & the cool archetectural details! For EP, hmmm, maybe university? University is my favourite part of the game, I think :)

How old is your simblr?: Apparently it dates back to August 2014 so, gosh, about 6 years??????????

Have you WooHooed?: Haha, serious question? Yeah

Your favorite skill: Creativity, probably! Although really its the hidden skills linked to it that I like, painting& music proficiancy, etc.

The size of your mods folder: 28GB >.< no comments on this please lmao, I know how bad it is & I hate it

Your 3 favorite mods: Going to cheat and say all the occult stuff by @midgethetree, the simological school/prison mods, & @hexagonal-bipyramid‘s traits project!

Your interests (other than Sims): Writing, D&D (I’m a newbie DM currently running Curse of Strahd for my IRL friends), anime, reading, drawing, tarot, fashion (I like ‘alternative’ style but lean more into witchy/granny/mori stuff than the ‘edgy’ look), witchcraft/occult stuff in general, knitting, embroidery... the last 2 are very new hobbies I’m still getting the hang of!

Your favorite Sim (picture if possible): Chosing one is always basically impossible for me so I’m gonna go ahead and post a few favorites...

Which Sims games have you played (including mobile games)?:Definitely TS2 is the one I’ve played the most of, but I’ve also played all the other mainline games... TS1 was only at friend’s houses, never got into TS4, but I have played a lot of TS3.

We never had a PC as a kid so I’ve played looooooads of the console ones. On the PS2 The Sims, Bustin’ Out, Sims 2, The Urbz (the best one.) Also the Sims 2 DS game & PSP games. Those are both pretty great. I also played the Sims 3 Wii game which was fucking terrible, haha.

Propose a crazy scheme: Bring back round robin legacies where a different simmer plays each generation

Best part of simblr: The community spirit is great, everyone is always eager to help each other and the level of creativity is just wow

Worst part of simblr:Sometimes I miss how much people commented in the old LJ days - without “threads” in comments it’s much harder to build friendships on Tumblr without going out of your way to message people, which is always a bit intimidating!

What other games you play?: I don’t play that many other games because I like the Sims 2 so much, but me and my boyfriend generally play through a couple of games together each year... mostly the Zelda and Final Fantasy series. I also play 00s era Sonic games weekly with one of my friends, haha. They are kind of crappy in a lot of ways but hold so much charm for me, I just love them... in general I like visual novels, mysteries, puzzles, adventures & anything with a good story. Not so big on anything very large and open-world, or first-person.

Other favourites include Pokemon, Fire Emblem, Harvest Moon (had to quit this one cold turkey lmao), TWEWY, the 999 games & Phoenix Wright.

Other websites or accounts (Origin, Twitter, etc.): I’m on discord! katatty #9742

Are you single?: Nope, been in a relationship for the last 5 years & we’re very happy. We moved in together last summer!

Tagging @strangetomato, @moocha-muses, @nostalgiasimmer & @simhealing - if you’re up for it!

#ask meme

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mageicalwishes · 4 years

Text

Read on AO3: here

Read the previous chapter (On Tumblr): here

Summary: “I’m egging your house for a dare, but you’re parent is a cop and now they’re yelling at me, so I told them you were my ex and you wronged me, and now you’re coming outside, so please just go along with this, I really don’t want to go to jail” AU When Simon Snow agreed to egg some posho’s house, he never thought he’d find himself here - The only thing standing between himself and a criminal charge, the word of a handsome stranger.

Chapter: 4/?

Words: 3,831

Baz

SS (20:14): What are you up to anyways?

ME (20:15): Well, I was reading a book. But now I’m talking to you ... Obviously.

SS (20:15): Oh shit, sorry. I can text you l8r if you prefer. I didn’t mean to bother you.

ME (20:16): No. Don’t worry, you're not bothering me. I wanted to talk to you … You’re far more entertaining than Austen, anyway.

SS (20:16): Okay cool :D

SS (20:16): Austen? Like ... Jane Austen? Is that for school?

ME (20:17): No. Just for fun.

SS (20:18): WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU?

SS (20:18): I had to read Pride and Prejudice for the GCSEs. It nearly killed me!

SS (20:19): I’ve never really been the best at reading, but that just took the piss! I swear to God, I didn’t understand like half of the words!

ME (20:20): That's understandable, to be honest. I will admit that the language can be a little 'flowery' at times. If you’re not really into reading, Austen isn’t exactly the most accessible literature. The stories are good though.

ME (20:21): Did you watch the film?

SS (20:23): Yeah, no kidding. I despised that fucking book!

SS (20:23): And, kind of. We watched, like, half of it in class, but we never finished it - Ran out of time.

ME (20:24): That’s unfortunate, it's pretty good, as far as adaptations go. I have the DVD somewhere. If I can find it, we could watch it together when you come over, if you’d like?

SS (20:24): Aw yeah defo :) That sounds good.

SS (20:24): Are you free tomorrow?

SS (20:25): Not for me to come over dw - I know you want to wait till your dad is away.

SS (20:25): If not dw. I know it’s a bit short notice. Soz.

ME (20:26): Don’t worry. I’m free, as far as I know. Why? What did you have in mind?

SS (20:26): I was wondering if you wanted to come play footie with me?

SS (20:27): Josh and Nathan are out.

SS (20:27): So it would just be us 2.

SS (20:28): If that’s okay with you? I know footie with just 2 is a bit difficult.

Pathetically, my chest surges at the sight of it … Just us two. It’s more than okay. It’s perfect.

BP (20:30): That’s okay, I’m sure it would still be fun - I’d like to come. What time were you thinking?

SS (20:30): 1:30ish. I can do later/earlier if it’s better for you tho.

BP (20:31): No, that won’t be necessary. 1:30 sounds fine.

SS (20:32): Okay good :) The pitch is a few mins away from the home. I could come and pick you up if you like? We could walk down together?

BP (20:32): Is my house on the way?

SS (20:33): Nah. Not exactly. I don’t mind tho it’ll only take, like, 15 mins more.

BP (20:34): I can just drive down to your house. There’s no need for you to go out of your way.

SS (20:34): Oh okay, sure. Sounds good :)

SS (20:34): Lazybones ;)

SS (20:34): Do you need my address?

BP (20:35): Yes, Snow. As talented as I may be, I’m not a psychic.

SS (20:35): Aha lol. Bigheaded much?

SS (20:36): I live on Pallot Road. Number 61.

SS (20:36): Do you know where it is?

SS (20:36): Idk the postcode off the top of my head. Soz.

BP (20:37): Yes, I know it. I’ll be there at 1:30.

SS (20:38): Cool. Can’t wait :)

I falter, unsure of how much of myself I’m willing to give away. I’ve never been good with openness - Hiding behind sharp words, and a false air of indifference. In that respect, I’m Snow’s antithesis. He’s a boy without walls - Open and forthright, to a fault. Defenseless, yet not afraid. I don’t believe that he’s ever tried to conceal any part of himself, around me - Even when we were literal strangers (Which, despite how it may feel, was barely a week ago). And, we’re certainly more than that, now (Well, I hope so, anyway). So why should I keep pretending? Why not just be real? Why not be a little more Simon Snow? I mean, he could hardly fault me for it - That would just be immensely hypocritical.

I type out my response in a rush, staring down the screen critically. Realistically, all I’m doing is parroting him. And while I know that, it feels like something much more. It feels like a partial admission of another truth. Another, much more frightening truth … That Simon Snow appears to have found himself in my affections, in a way that nobody else has before. That being with him makes my heart pulse, and my soul sing … That I’m a helpless, lovelorn fool.

Nevertheless, I scrunch my eyes closed, and hit send quickly (Before my courage, inevitably, dries up).

BP (20:43): Neither can I. It’ll be great to see you again.

————————————————————————————

He’s already standing outside when I pull up to his house. His bronze curls whipping around in the wind, messily, and a hand tracing the hem of his hoodie absentmindedly.

Shyly, I slide out of the car, and pace over to him.

“Good morning, Snow.”

“Hey, Baz!” he chirps, smiling over at me.

“You’re actually ready on time, this time. Congratulations!” I toy.

“Hey! Piss off!” He gruffs, sweeping his hair back, out of his face. “I was three minutes late. That doesn’t even count!”

“Au contraire - It most certainly does count. I was deeply inconvenienced by your casual approach to promptness. I had to sit on the stairs for a whole five minutes ... I looked like a complete prat.”

“Not my problem,” he shrugs. “You didn’t have to wait right by the door, you moron. That is completely on you.”

“Whatever,” I scoff, my face flooding with heat.

He lets out a laugh - Deep and rumbling. “You know for a smart guy, you really are awfully dumb sometimes, Baz”

I roll my eyes dramatically, unable to think up a comeback. Stumped, I decide to move the conversation forwards ...

“Have you got everything you need?” I ask, nodding my head towards the backpack in his hands - Not even bothering to question why he’s chosen to hold it that way.

“Yep. I brought a ball, and everything!”

“Perfect,” I mumble, nudging my hand against his, and pulling the bag from between his fingers. “I’ll just put this in the boot, and then we can go ... Hop on in, Golden boy.”

————————————————————————————

Simon

Baz is ruthless on the pitch (Just like I’d imagined he’d be) - Pelting across the grass at a breakneck speed, and booting goal after goal into the back of the net. Truly, He’s a sight to behold - All straining muscles, and wicked grins. I’d be basking in it … If I wasn’t so bloody annoyed.

He’s absolutely thrashing me (Of course) - 5 to Nil. It’s an absolute disaster on my end, having, apparently, lost any sort of scoring capability. And, to make matters worse, he’s not exactly coy about it - Assaulting me with a constant stream of ' Are you even trying, Snow 's and over-exaggerated, false yawns. Utter prat.

In my desperation, I stick my leg out in a particularly botched attempt at a tackle, accidentally clipping the back of his ankle, and sending him tumbling to the ground. Shit.

“Oh my god,” I breathe, squatting down onto the floor besides him, and flipping him over with a tug to his shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry. I was trying to get the ball, I swear I didn’t mean to do that.”

He glares up at me, his full lips twisted into an acrid scowl. My stomach sinks at the sight of it. Shit. I’ve really fucked this up.

But then, he’s chortling heartily (Apparently incapable of maintaining his cruel act, any longer). His face scrunching up delightfully, as his eyes well up with joyful tears.

“What the fuck even was that, you complete barbarian,” he laughs, clutching at his stomach, stupidly. “Couldn’t stand losing, so you thought you’d just try knocking me out instead ... That is definitely a foul, Snow”

“I know, I know. It was an accident though, I swear,” I whine. “Just ... Shut up, and let me help you, you dick.”

I stick a hand out, pulling him up into a sitting position. He’s a mess - Small clumps of mud and grass clinging to his face, and a nasty, bloodied scraze disfiguring his knee. Yet somehow, even with all the marks of my stupidity, he still manages to look infuriatingly good.

I take his face in my hands gently, tilting it towards mine. The laughter dies out, suddenly - His face falling marginally, as he goes eerily quiet. Unperturbed, I continue my ministrations, brushing my fingers across his face, sweeping away the debris as I go.

“I really am sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

“It’s alright, Snow. I was only teasing. I know it was an accident. It’s fine, really, it’s just a little scrape - Nothing a wash and a plaster won’t fix.”

“Okay,” I huff, relieved. “I didn’t bring any with me, though ... But, there’s a first aid kit back at home. We could go and patch you up there?”

“No. If it’s alright, I’d rather do it back at my own house. It’ll be much less awkward that way”

“Oh,” I drone, my voice weak with disappointment. “Sure.”

How the fuck did I manage to mess things up so quickly? We were supposed to spend the rest of the day together (I mean, neither of us ever actually said that, but it was definitely assumed), and now, within one poxy hour, I’ve managed to kill all chances of that. I'm such a bloody idiot.

“Cheer up, misery-guts,” he giggles, “There’s no need to strop - You can come too. You might just have to sneak in through the window, or something.”

“Okay, sure,” I beam, stupidly elated. “I can handle that.”

————————————————————————————

Baz

As it turns out, he really can't handle it.

“Christ, Snow,” I hiss. “You’re being way too loud. Shut up.”

“It ain't my fault! I don’t know why the fuck you thought I would be able to climb up this thing properly. It’s made for flowers Baz, not people!”

He has a point, to be honest. I knew that getting him up the trellis would be a challenge, but we didn’t exactly have many other options.

I thrust my hand out of the window, gripping onto his forearm tightly, and shifting my weight to support him properly.

With that, his body starts shaking violently, a poorly concealed chuckle escaping his lips.

“I told you to shut it, moron,” I scold (Although, there is no real malice in it - The smile is clearly audible in my voice).

“I’m trying, really. It’s just - It’s just this is like some shitty version of Romeo and Juliet, Baz. You can’t blame me!” He laughs. “It’s funny!”

“Yes well … Romeo was much more graceful about it than you!”

“Shhhh. I’m doing my best. I’m almost up! You should’ve gotten me a rope or something, it isn’t my fault!”

“Oh yes, Snow,” I deadpan. “Sorry. Let me go and grab the ten foot rope I keep under my bed at all times”

“Hey! I don’t know what kind of kinky shit you’re into! You could've had a rope lying around somewhere!”

I don’t even try and justify that with a response, choosing, instead, to focus on helping him up.

Eventually, we manage to pull him into the room - Snow plopping down onto the floor, with an unceremonious thud.

Laughing hysterically, he props himself up against the wall besides me, and rests his head against the side of my shoulder.

“Thanks for helping me up. I was so scared I was gonna fall back into that stupid rose bush.”

“It’s no problem. I didn’t really fancy having to explain to Father why you, of all people, were sneaking into my bedroom.”

“Hmmm,” he hums, his throat vibrating distractingly, against my shoulder. “You need me to help you with your leg?”

“No. I can handle it … I was going to have a quick shower, actually, if that’s alright with you? Get it properly cleaned up and everything, you know."

“Oh yeah, that’s fine,” He murmurs, lifting his head up, and shifting his body sideways (Away from mine). “What - I mean what am I supposed to do, though? Do you want me to hide somewhere?”

I puff out a breath, amused by his sincerity. “No, Snow,” I drawl. “You don’t have to hide yourself away in the wardrobe. You can just wait around here. Nobody is going to come in - Don’t worry.”

“Oh, right” He mumbles, glancing his eyes down towards the floor. “Cool.”

“Yeah. There’s plenty here to keep you entertained, though. You could play on the PS, or watch some TV … Or, you could read something, I suppose. Although, I know you’re not big on that.”

He smiles over at me, his freckled cheeks puffing out wide. It’s frustratingly adorable.

“Yeah, maybe not that. I’ll probably just watch TV, if that’s okay?”

“Of course it’s okay. I wouldn’t have offered otherwise,” I say, jumping up, and treading over to the en-suite door. “I won't be long, though, honest - I’ll be back in half an hour, latest.”

————————————————————————————

It definitely took me longer than half an hour. Although, that was Snow’s fault entirely - His lovely tackle, had left awful clumps of mud matted into my hair, so I had to give it a proper wash.

When I step back into the room (My hair still annoyingly damp), Snow has got himself starfished out across my bed, his chin propped up in his hands. He looks completely at ease, laid out in my bed like that - Even with the, admittedly, rather intimidating decor of my room.

Stepping besides the bed, I scoop his legs up in my arms, and swing them over to one side of the bed - Making room for myself besides him.

“What are you watching then, Snow?” I ask, laying myself down onto the duvet.

“Dunno. Some crap cop show. I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“No?” I ask, gasping with faux incredulity. “Would you like to play some FIFA instead? That way I can thrash you again, without sustaining any serious injuries.”

“Don’t be a wanker, Baz,” he scolds. “You know I didn’t mean to do that!”

“I know, I know,” I coo. “I’m only messing with you. Don’t stress.”

He glares at me, pouting his lips out, slightly. “Okay then,” he agrees, a sly smirk spreading across his face. “I actually play a lot of FIFA, you know. So, I reckon I’m going to enjoy beating you … Would serve you right for being such a cocky bastard!”

I raise my eyebrows in challenge, punching out a quick, mirthless laugh. “I’d like to see you try, Snow. Do your worst … We’ll see who comes out on top!”

————————————————————————————

For all my arrogance, I will admit that Snow was actually a very worthy opponent (Although, I’d never tell him that).

Considering that I’d been playing everyday for the last two months, I had assumed it would be an easy victory - But, as it turns out, I was wrong. He put up a more than admirable fight - Actually leading for the majority of the match. But, of course, I still managed to beat him - Hammering in a goal on the ninety-third minute (Much to Snow’s dismay).

“For fuck sakes!” He fumes, throwing the controller down onto the bed, childishly. “I almost bloody had it, as well!”

“There, there, Snow,” I tease, pressing a hand to his shoulder in a mocking comfort. “There’s always next time.”

“Piss off, Baz!” He whines, flopping back against my pillows with a dramatic sigh. “I’ve had enough of this shitty game!”

“Alright,” I breathe, slowly laying myself down besides him, as I desperately try to suppress the laughter bubbling up inside me. “Do you want to play a different game, then?”

“No.”

“Okay,” I drawl, my voice rising with uncertainty. “So … You want-”

“Just wanna stay here for a bit,” he gruffs.

“Okay. We can stay here, then.” I agree, my voice hushed.

As silence settles over us, I steal a glance over at him.

He’s got an arm stretched out over his face (The synthetic material of his football shirt, straining against his broad shoulders, perfectly), and beneath it, I can see the hint of a smile playing at his lips.

Unobserved, I take my opportunity to scan my eyes over him, appreciatively. Sprawled out against my bed, he looks positively obscene. His hair mussed intoxicatingly, where it rests against my pillow, and every revealed inch of skin decorated with constellations of moles. For a moment, I envision pressing my lips against them, lavishing each and every mark with the attention they deserve, but I quickly restrain myself. Allowing my mind to wander now, when he’s so close to me, would be an irreparably idiotic move.

In an attempt to cool myself down, I flutter my eyes shut, and shift my focus onto the steady puff of his breathing - Slow and constant. In and Out. In and Out. In and Out …

————————————————————————————

Embarrassingly, I’m halfway to sleep when he speaks next.

“Baz?” he whispers, poking my arm lightly. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” I mumble, my voice deep and lazy with tiredness.

“Okay. Cool,” he sighs. “Can - I mean, can I ask you something?”

“Hmmm. Of course” I hum.

“It's just that, I’ve been thinking … Did - Did you mean what you said the other day?”

I scoff, quietly. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific, if you want me to answer that, Snow.”

“Right yeah. Obviously,” he huffs, clearly frustrated.

Opening my eyes, I tilt my head over to look at him - Our eyes meeting immediately. His deep blue boring into my grey. This close, it’s far too intense.

Caught off guard, and humiliatingly wonderstruck, I avert my eyes, focusing my gaze on the canopy of my bed, instead. I feel my face flush with heat, once again, and pray to God that he doesn’t notice. That would be the last thing I need, right now.

“I just - I mean what you said to your dad,” he continues, stammering slightly.

“What bit?”

“When you were all like - 'Oh don’t worry Father, he's one of mine',” he explains, making an absolutely atrocious attempt at mimicking my accent. “I just mean like - Do you really have lots of, like - I don’t know ... Guys?”

“No,” I drone. “There’s no one else ... Never has been. I just said that to get him off of your case. He doesn’t really like talking about that stuff, so I figured it would be effective.”

“Oh,” He breathes. “Okay.”

I pause, unsure of what else to say. The silence stretches between us painfully - Tangible tension flooding the air. And then, I feel it. It’s barely a brush at first - Easy to play off as a simple accident, given our close proximity. But then, he continues. Pressing our hands together more fervently - His skin impossibly warm against mine. It’s searing - The contact lighting me up from within, as hopeful sparks ignite within me.

I gulp, audibly. “Why?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

“Just - I’m just like … Curious, I suppose,” he murmurs, his finger tip tracing it’s way along the side of my thumb. It’s feather-light, but it weighs like lead in my heart. And I think that, maybe (just maybe), he might be trying to tell me exactly what I want to hear.

He presses on, nervously, his voice wavering slightly. “It’s just that -”

Suddenly, there’s a banging at the door - Loud and insistent.

Panicked, I shove him off of the bed, sending him flopping onto the floor with a girlish yelp. Biting back a laugh, I rush over to the door, and pull it open ever so slightly.

“Basilton. Dinner is ready. I don’t know what on earth you’re doing in here, making all that racket, but you need to come downstairs now,” Father chastises.

“Of course. I’ll be down in just a minute.”

“Alright. Hurry down though. Please don’t keep us all waiting. We don’t want to start without you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Father,” I taunt, my tone laced with sarcasm. He’ll definitely lecture me about that later (He’s never impressed with my 'petulant attitude'), but, right now, I don’t particularly care.

Closing the door behind him, I scurry over back to where Snow is sat.

“You have to leave,” I whisper, rushing out the words with a frightful urgency. “I’m sorry. I lost track of time. You just - You really have to leave. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone ... So, you can't really stay.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he hushes. “It’s fine. Don’t stress. Do you want me to go right now?”

“No,” I cry. “Just - Wait until I’ve been down at dinner for a few minutes - Then you can leave … That way, you can be certain nobody will be creeping around outside.”

“Okay, sure.” he says, smiling over at me.

Looking at him - I hesitate. “But - Are you sure you’ll be okay climbing? If you’d rather wait, I’m sure that I can find some other way to sneak you out, a little bit later. I could say I'm going out to the bin, or something. If you were quiet, we might be able to get away with it.” “Baz,” he sing-songs, teasingly. “I’m sure I can climb down without your help. It’s only one floor.”

“Yes well,” I deadpan. “Forgive me for thinking it may be best to find an alternative route. You didn’t exactly dazzle me with your speed or grace in getting up here.”

He snickers, squinting his eyes at me daringly.

“Yeah, but it’ll be easier going down. So chill. I can handle it - Trust,” he reassures. “You’ve seriously gotta go and get your dinner now, though. If your dad comes stomping up here to yell at you, it’s game over for me! And then fussing over this would've been entirely pointless”

“Okay,” I huff, standing and pacing over to the door, reluctantly.

Flashing him a quick smile, I call out a quiet “Message you later, Snow,”, and then, I leave him.

————————————————————————————

I’m just tucking into my dinner, when an almighty crash tears through the hush of the dining room. Of course, I know what it is immediately - Simon bloody Snow falling off of that god-forsaken trellis.

Fucking hell. I knew I should’ve tried to sneak him out another way.

I mean, what if he’s hurt himself? It’s not exactly a steep fall, but it’s certainly enough to do some damage. And the only reason he is even here, is because of my stupid, desperate plot to get to spend more time with him - And now, he's probably laying out there with a broken leg, or something. God. I'm such a selfish dolt.

Anxiously, I slide my phone out of my pocket, beneath the table, and hurry out a quick text.

ME (19:27): Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? Do you need help?

I wait, holding my breath as my leg bounces under the table, impatiently.

SS (19:28): Nah. Don’t worry. I’m good.

SS (19:28): I might’ve killed your flowers tho :/

SS (19:28): Sorry!

I smile to myself privately - Doing my best to hide my grin behind my hand.

That bloody disaster is going to be my undoing, I swear.

#carry on #wayward son #snowbaz #snowbaz fic #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch

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n1ghtt1me-stars · 4 years

Text

Part 10 (1)

Warlock saunters vaguely through life (Warlock saunters vaguely into their lives part 10) - this work is around 20,000 words so will be uploaded in eight parts every week

work on ao3, part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine

The five years after the non-apocalypse passed quickly and peacefully.

And Warlock really didn't want anything to change.

In school, he had very few friends - really they were more acquaintances than friends - other quiet people he sat with in the library and the computer suite because everyone knew that they wouldn't disturb each other. Warlock wasn't even a hundred per cent certain on all their names.

After his last GCSE exam, he went straight home. It was physics and Warlock was pretty sure he lost all the marks except on the parts about Space, as Crowley had helped him revise that topic. There was talk about a party that all his year was invited to, but it felt presumptive to assume he was a part of that group.

The tube had become part of his everyday routine: headphones in, head down and praying that it wasn't crammed (though it usually was).

There was a well-done-on-your-exams cake waiting when he arrived home. Crowley and Aziraphale stood proudly behind the table with the cake on it. Smiling, Warlock walked over and gave them a hug. Neither of them really understood human school though they celebrated each achievement and somehow cake became a part of it.

Aziraphale began to plate some slices of cake while Crowley turned to him and asked, "How was school, dear?"

"S'alright," Warlock replied. "Hated the test but my physics teacher gave us sweets afterwards. I think she pitied us."

Crowley laughed and Warlock continued with descriptions of his classmates' looks of despair. Aziraphale chimed in with "Oh those poor dears. Were exams one of mine or yours?"

Leaning back in his chair as he thought, Crowley eventually said, "I can't remember. I think I did it but it could have been a favour."

"I swear," Warlock said, "if you didn't give me cake, I would be really annoyed right now."

Later that evening, Warlock laid on his bed on his phone. Somehow, he had become friends with Adam and his lot. Not so much Wensleydale and Brian (Warlock did get Wensleydale's help with physics as well though it didn't pay off). He spoke a bit with Adam who really liked plants, and Warlock had grown up in Crowley's garden so they had some common ground.

Mostly, Warlock messaged Pepper. They both did ICT as a hobby and as a GCSE (Brian also did the exam but only because he thought it would be easy). Pepper was also into social justice and Warlock knew the best way to be heard in both Britain and America through his father’s complaints.

(They also both liked romantic comedies and were too ashamed to admit it to anyone else)

Is Adam still prepping for the party? Warlock sent Pepper after their rants about exams died off.

Of course. Been planning this since his fifteenth. Warlock can feel Pepper rolling her eyes. He's even made a truce with Johnson because he can get drinks for the after-party.

That's dedication. How's he hiding it from his parents?

Convinced Anathema it’s a rite of passage. She's going to distract all the adults including your parents after the barbecue so we can go to the treehouse.

Sounds fun. And it really did. Since his eleventh birthday, it had become a tradition to throw a joint party with Adam. His parents were usually abroad so they travelled to Tadfield for roughly a week.

To you maybe. Adam’s been setting up rubbish bags and threatening to fight anyone who litters in his woods.

Haha so glad I don't help plan these things

Wish you did, Pepper quickly replied before sending another message, it's annoying that you can't come during Christmas or Easter

I know. Two more years and then I don't have to go back to my parents’ house.

Only two years. Can't believe we're all growing up. Pepper sent.

Yeah, neither could he. Growing up was a surreal thing. Changes happened without you noticing; he doesn't know when the last time he called Crowley Nanny was. He remembered being teased for having servants and stopped referring to Nanny in school. And then, it bled into his home life. Warlock wasn't sure if Crowley noticed because he never said anything, but it made Warlock a little sad thinking about it.

I know. Think Adam will mature once we turn 16?

Nope. Still be thinking he's the centre of the universe till someone knocks him down a couple of pegs

Warlock laughed aloud at that. Adam was regularly self-centred, but he meant well most of the time. Once, when they were thirteen, he didn't talk to Warlock for weeks after he couldn't come over for Christmas despite him explaining why. It took Pepper hitting him for Adam to apologise.

The year after, Adam posted a book about coding to the Dowling house. Warlock still wasn't sure how he got that address.

Before he could reply to Pepper, she messaged again that her mum needed her so she'd talk tomorrow. It was only ten so Warlock doodled in his notebook a bit; he could do rough sketches of a variety of plants and flowers without thinking. For his art GCSE, most of his coursework had been based around plants because he could use Crowley's garden as a source. A few years ago, Crowley had expanded to a greenhouse on the roof (which Warlock was pretty sure was closed off to tenants) and it was so beautiful and full of lush plants in there.

It was definitely one of Warlock's favourite places.

A couple of weeks later (most of it was spent catching up on sleep), Warlock packed for their trip to Tadfield. Technically, he wasn't a military kid like the others he grew up with who moved every few years. But, on the other hand, as a diplomat's son, he went on more short-haul trips so packing was a breeze.

Going through his mental list, he packed his clothes effectively so he could take his tablet and laptop. He knew Aziraphale would be taking enough books for the week so he didn't have to worry about that.

Suitcase ready and his phone on charge for the car journey, he went up to the roof. He passed Aziraphale prepping packed lunches in the kitchen: most likely simple sandwiches if he was trying to make something without magic.

It was a rare clear day and Warlock could see miles of the city all around from the rooftop however he couldn't hear the busy streets. Apparently, plants needed a calm, clean atmosphere (even though they were already in a greenhouse) so the roof was quiet and smelled of clean air and not the usual scent of exhaust fumes.

Pushing open the door to the greenhouse, Warlock was met with a warm wall of humidity. Crowley stood over some vibrant green ferns with his water sprayer, inspecting for any damage and threatening them.

"You all better grow well when I'm away," he said as the leaves trembled. "or you'll know what'll happen. I don't think any of you can survive a fall from a roof."

Warlock gently stroked a shaking leaf and it stopped trembling. As if communicating with the others, all the plants went still and Crowley turned to glare at him. "You and Aziraphale are way too nice to them."

"Yeah," Warlock said, "We're the ones who are too nice."

Crowley waved the spray bottle at him before giving the plants one last glare. Walking out of the greenhouse, Crowley asked, "Are you ready to go?"

To be honest, his stomach was turning. Each year, it was terrifying to be celebrating his birthday with people he only saw once a year and only knew because he was standing in the background when the world nearly ended.

"Yep, can't wait," Warlock said. He must have sounded convincing because Crowley told him to put his stuff in the car before going to find Aziraphale.

They stayed in the same rented cottage every year that was always empty despite it being the height of summer. Like the flat, it was a lot smaller than the house he grew up in, but Warlock preferred it. Every floorboard creaked and the chairs felt like they would collapse whenever someone sat on them but it was never empty.

Unsurprisingly, they arrived before lunchtime because of Crowley's driving, so they had the sandwiches at the cottage. Warlock had several messages from Pepper demanding he come into the woods as soon as possible because Adam is getting stressy about the party and someone needs to distract him.

Leaving Aziraphale and Crowley to sort out the cottage, Warlock jumped the fence in the garden as it was the quickest route into the woods. He only came once a year, but he could walk this path with his eyes closed. It was cool beneath the shade of the trees, yet the light that filtered through made the whole area a nice golden hue. The air had a similar feel to the greenhouse: clean, fresh and the furthest thing from the city air.

The first thing he heard was Adam's voice. "Hang the paper chains evenly in the branches," he shouted. Warlock walked into the slight clearing in time to see Pepper glare at Adam. "Please," he added reluctantly at her look.

No one was really sure if Adam still had his powers, but Adam swung round to lock eyes with Warlock as if he just knew he was there.

"Warlock!" He shouted and smiled widely. However, Warlock's response was cut off when a weight slammed into the back of his knees. Stumbling forwards, Warlock stopped himself from falling as Dog continued to jump and bark at him. For some reason, Dog was always overly enthusiastic around him and no one else.

"Hey," Warlock said as Dog ran over and sat down at Adam's ankles. "How are you?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Adam said. "It's good you're here actually, you can help Wensleydale with the paper chains. He has no idea how to spread the colours evenly."

Looking over at the tree, Warlock could see what Adam meant. There was a large patch of red on one side of the tree, a couple of stands if blue next to it (where Wensleydale was precariously sitting) and other colours in a pile on the floor. If left to his own devices, all the colours would end up in distinct blocks which would just look weird. "Sure," Warlock said, "I'll save the tree."

"Thank you," Adam said earnestly. Suddenly, he shouted "Brian, no!" before running off to deal with another impending disaster.

On his way over, Warlock said hi to Pepper who was setting up some solar-powered garden lights. "We'll have to take some of that red down," he said to Wensleydale who was clambering down from the tree.

"Yeah," Wensleydale said sadly. He cleaned his glasses on his shirt and put them back on to stare at the paper chains. "I guess it would look better if they were mixed together."

"Yeah..." Warlock said as he studied the colours. "If you get back up in the tree, I'll pass them up and we can spread them out?"

"Sounds good," Wensleydale replied and he climbed the tree again. As they worked, they chatted mostly about the recent exams because that was the only common ground they had.

"How did your RE go?" Wensleydale asked. Warlock was grateful that they had quickly moved on from the physics paper.

"Alright I think," he said as he passed up a green chain. "But it didn't help that Aziraphale kept telling me about misprinted bible quotes. They were all I could remember in the exam."

"Oh, I read about some of those. I think my favourite was 'Thou shalt commit Adultery'."

Laughing, Warlock said, "Nah, 'the unrighteous shall inherit the Kingdom of God' is definitely the best one. It's amazing how these were so wrong with just little mistakes."

Finally finished with the tree (which now looked like an explosion of colour instead of a paint-by-number), Warlock realised that his stomach was growling. Brian and Pepper disappeared a while ago once they had finished their jobs and Wensleydale quickly left as well, claiming he was tired from scrambling around the tree. That just left him and Adam, who was trying to get Dog to stop playing with a scrap piece of paper that he was intent on tearing to bits.

"Dog, drop it!" Adam said. Warlock laughed as Dog ignored him. "Drop it," Adam continued sternly, "or no treats for dinner."

Dog dropped it and Adam looked at Warlock smugly. "I'm pretty sure he only stopped because you mentioned treats," Warlock said and Adam's expression faltered slightly.

No," he said stubbornly. "Dog understood the threat."

"Sure he did," Warlock said, filling his voice with sarcasm. "Well," he added, "I'm hungry so I'm going to ..."

"Come to mine," Adam interrupted. "My mum will be preparing dinner soon."

"Uh..." Warlock couldn't see a valid reason to refuse, except that being around the adult Youngs was weird, but he couldn't admit that to their son. "Sure," he said, "let me just message Crowley."

"Awesome," Adam said, and, as soon as Warlock put his phone back in his pocket, grabbed his arm and started dragging Warlock to his house.

Excluding all the supernatural elements, Warlock wondered if there was anyone else in a similar situation where the child was the one to know that they were adopted and not the adult.

He couldn't help thinking about it as Mrs Young pulled him into a hug and Mr Young gave him a firm handshake. Really, he looked nothing like Mrs Young who shared the same light hair and soft face with Adam, and the only similarity he had with Mr Young was the dark hair colour that his mum also had. Adam, though, did actually look like their son despite not being related.

The situation was strange and Warlock usually tried to ignore it, especially around his family because his father could not find out he wasn't biologically his.

It would be the straw that broke the camel's back; it would be all the excuse his father needed to disown him.

"Sit down," Mrs Young said, ushering Warlock and Adam to the dining table. "I'm making bangers and mash so I hope you're hungry."

"They're vegetarian by the way," Adam said to him.

"Yeah, that's fine," Warlock said. He knew that Adam went vegetarian a while back and that his parents followed his example. Anyway, you could never go wrong with sausages and potatoes.

Warlock could hear the sound of ceramic plates being set out and the kettle whistling in the kitchen. Despite his reservations, Warlock did love being in Adam's house. It was loud and full of life and reminded him of the times when he, Aziraphale and Crowley tried to make a new dish together (with varying degrees of success). It was also the furthest thing from the empty estate that he used to live in.

Once everyone was sat down and eating, Mr Young turned to him and asked, "So, what exams did you do Warlock?"

"Uh, ICT, RE and art," Warlock said, "plus English, maths and combined science of course."

"A good range," Mr Young said, meeting Warlock’s eyes as if he was genuinely interested, "Your parents must be proud."

"Yep," Warlock said, quickly shoving a forkful of mash into his mouth so he didn't have to say anymore. He was pretty sure his father's lecture on why he should do more useful subjects like politics or business lasted an hour when Warlock told him his chosen options.

Thankfully, Adam started talking about the party. He omitted the part about the truce and Johnson bringing alcohol but he waved his cutlery around as he spoke about all the decorations and the games they' were going to play in the woods.

"I'm thinking that we play games that we used to play as kids," Adam said, as though he never stopped playing those games. "Forty forty in is good in the dark..."

"How do you play?" Warlock asked.

Adam turned to look at him with wide eyes, "You've never played?" Adam said. Warlock looked away slightly from his shocked look. As a child, the only game he could remember playing was soccer (well football here, that was probably the only American thing about Warlock) when some of his mother's friends brought their children round. Names of games like 'bulldog' and '123 home' were suggested if he remembered correctly but soccer was the only thing they all knew so they didn't have to waste time explaining it. He never had regular friends to develop these kinds of games with.

"No..." Warlock eventually said, focused on the food in front of him as he cut the sausages into tiny, regular pieces. "I've never heard of it."

"That's fine," Adam said, his cheerful mood not at all affected. "You can be on my team and we’ll destroy the others."

"We never played in teams," Mrs Young added. "If you was IT, you had to do it alone."

"Well, in my version there’s teams and it's more fun when you have someone to work with."

"Okay dear, finish your food," Mrs Young said, gesturing to Adam's half full plate which he had been ignoring whenever he spoke.

They finished in relative silence and Warlock helped Mrs Young carry the plates into the kitchen as Adam took Dog out into the garden. "You're such a polite boy," she said, "not like the chaotic demon I raised." Warlock laughed though it was more at the fact that she didn't know how right she was. "Are you excited for the barbeque tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yeah," Warlock said. "Thank you for hosting it again. They're always brilliant. This will be the fifth one-- won't it?"

"Oh its no trouble," Mrs Young said, dismissing his praise with a wave of her hand. "I can't believe you're all growing up so fast. Soon, you'll be at university and then adults. First, it was Adam's sister and now Adam. Oh God," she paused and wiped her eyes, "I better stop before I start weeping."

Warlock scuffed his feet against the floor. "It's alright," he said, feeling like an intruder. Adam had told him late one night in a rare honest conversation that his older sister visited less and less and that it made his mother upset. In return, Warlock told him how his parents had been distant growing up and he disliked people like his sister, who selfishly took their parents' love for granted.

Adam didn't argue with him. He only said that he was glad Warlock was with Aziraphale and Crowley now.

"Go hang out with Adam," Mrs Young said as she shooed him out of the kitchen. "I'll get Arthur to help me."

Leaving her shouting for her husband, Warlock went into the garden where he found Adam laying on the recently-mowed grass with Dog. The sun was just setting, turning the sky red (Warlock hoped that meant the weather would be good tomorrow for their birthday). Sitting down next to him, Warlock saw that Adam's eyes were closed but he knew that Adam was aware that he was there. He waited in silence until Adam opened his eyes.

From his position sitting up, Warlock had to lean over slightly so he could make eye contact with Adam. "Are you going to stay there all night?" he asked.

"Maybe," Adam said with a smirk. Honestly, Warlock wouldn't be surprised if Adam actually did as he always seemed to belong more outside.

"In that case," Warlock said as he stood up, "I'll be heading back to sleep in a proper bed."

Adam groaned but scrambled quickly to his feet. "I'll walk you back," he said. There were grass stains all down his back and loose stands in his hair. Warlock tried to help by picking some of the pieces out but stopped quickly when he felt Adam still beneath his hand.

"You don't have to," Warlock said, feeling slightly guilty for disturbing him.

Adam waved him off. "I want to," he said, smiling brightly.

Adam took them along the main road instead of the through the woods even though it was longer. Surprisingly, Adam kept quiet (only interrupting occasionally to ask questions) when Warlock spent most of the walk talking about some new plants Crowley had gotten recently and how they were so pretty Warlock had already drawn them many times trying to capture them right.

Finally, they reached the cottage. Pausing at the gate to say goodbye, Warlock was shocked when Adam pulled him into a quick hug. Adam pulled away too soon for Warlock to hug him back and said, "You're so going to love your present tomorrow."

"I bet my present for you is better," Warlock said almost automatically as his brain was still processing the hug.

Adam laughed and said, "Doubt it," before running off.

When Warlock woke up the next morning, his memory of his conversation with Adam was crystal clear while the rest of the evening after that was a complete blur in his mind.

Next part

#warlock tags along #warlock grows up #warlock saunters vaguely into their lives #good omens #good omens fanfiction

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scorpiuhsmalfoy · 4 years

Text

Muggle!Scorpius HC

This is something I posted in my cursed child discord (which u should join it’s fun) but then absolutely had to elaborate on

When Draco and Astoria find out that Astoria’s illness will mean that she will die quite young, they search desperately for a cure, because without Astoria, Draco will not be able to make it in the world

And then, somehow, they find a cure, and they’re both willing to do anything if it means Astoria lives

In order for Astoria to live, she has to give up using magic completely

Astoria is happy to do so for herself, but doesn’t want to force Draco to get rid of magic

But frankly Draco has had enough of the wizarding world, because he simply isn’t able to shake off the looks he’s given in diagon alley or the ministry or anywhere, so he is almost relieved to never have to use magic again, all he wants is a happy life with Astoria

So they move out of malfoy manor and into a muggle village, where they finally get married and Draco takes the name Greengrass because the Greengrass family aren’t as infamous as the Malfoys

They then have a little baby boy, and look this is where it gets a bit wobbly because I know this isn’t how magic works in HP but this is all i’ve got, and because Astoria and Draco now haven’t used any magic in a few years, he is born completely magic free

They’re both terrified that Scorpius will one day show signs of magic, but he never does

He goes to a normal school, gets bullied a bit for his name because Scorpius Hyperion Greengrass is weird, but hey at least nobody’s accusing him of being the son of the dark lord!

He has no idea magic exists, and it becomes a thing of the past for both Astoria and Draco.

Once Astoria is completely healthy, she takes a job at the local primary school, once Scorpius has moved up into secondary of course because there is nothing more embarrassing than your own mum working at the school you go to, helping out with the little children and she absolutely loves it

Draco, through searching so much for a cure for Astoria’s illness, actually finds he quite enjoys healing, so goes back to school, but a muggle college, and trains to be a community doctor - the type that can’t really prescribe anything or really treat you because hey he’s got O.W.Ls and not GCSEs but he enjoys it and he finds that muggles are actually quite nice people

but back to Scorpius

He goes to muggle schools, and does extremely well, and loves learning and books and reading but wants to get out of this tiny little village and see the world and go on adventures!

So he goes to Uni in london

Where he bumps into frazzled Ministry for the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts worker Albus Potter

When Scorpius introduces himself as Greengrass something in the back of Albus’ mind goes off but Albus doesn’t know that much about pureblood history so he just casts it off

Albus has always loved Muggles and muggle things (taking after his grandfather, shout out to Dominic Short for giving me this idea i am forever in your debt) and there is something interesting about this particular muggle

They go on a date and Albus is like, right, I want to show you something, but you have to promise me you won’t freak out, and Scorpius is like umm sure but we’re stood in front of a brick wall what are you going to do have it magically open?

And Albus is like yep, that’s it exactly and then he gets out his wand and taps on the bricks and they open and Scorpius is just stood there like, holy fuck I’ve gone insane

But Albus holds out his hand and Scorpius takes it because Albus is smiling sheepishly and even though he’s only really just met this boy he trusts him for some reason and hey, he came for london for an adventure and look! he’s got one!

So Albus shows him round diagon alley, and explains magic and hogwarts and Scorpius is just obviously FASCINATED but Albus says he can’t tell anyone, at least not straight away

“but didn’t you tell me straight away?” Scorpius asks him, and then Albus blushes and says yeah I guess, “I don’t know, there’s something about you, I just trust you.”

which is too much honesty for the both of them

they go into WWW and Ron, being Ron, also looks at Scorpius and is like, huh, you look like someone, but the Malfoy’s have disappeared and Ron hasn’t thought about them in years and Albus told him he was a muggle so it can’t be

And Scorpius and Albus start properly dating, Albus spending time and Scorpius’ uni flat where Scorpius shows him muggle technology

by this point Scorpius has told his parents about this boy called Albus, and Draco raises his eyebrows like Albus what are the chances and Astoria is like I’m sure it’s just a coincidence this kid has the same name as our old Headmaster it’s not that uncommon a name for muggles? is it??

Soon enough christmas rolls around, and with Albus’ job and the new thing he has with Scorpius, he hasn’t seen his parents all that much and he barely updates them on what’s going on with his life, but he asks if he can bring Scorpius to the Potter cottage on Boxing Day and of course he’s invited

They take the train there, because Albus doesn’t think Scorpius is quite ready for wizard travel yet and they knock on the door because Albus doesn’t have a key anymore

So Ginny opens the door and gasps because what is Draco Malfoy doing stood next to you Albus? Because Scorpius dressed up in proper Malfoy finery and he looks the spitting image of his father

Harry comes to the door as well, and is gobsmacked.

But Albus is thoroughly confused because this is a Greengrass?? Not a Malfoy??

And Scorpius, who doesn’t know much about his parents past except for the fact that neither of his grandparents are that nice, is like, “did you two know my father?”

And they both nod, because yes they did

So they invite Scorpius in, and Scorpius explains, and then Ginny sends an owl to the new address but Scorpius is like, I can just face time them if you want? I have an iPhone? you wizards really need to get iPhones?

So then Scorpius, Albus, Ginny, and Harry are huddled round Scorpius’ phone waiting for his mum to pick up

James and Lily are off in the background like What Is Going On, nobody has explained anything to them

And then for the first time ever the Potters and the Malfoys, or Greengrasses, spend a christmas day together, even if it is over facetime

the next time Scorpius goes home they explain everything to him properly and Scorpius isn’t mad because it was for his mothers life

and I don’t really know what happens after that

Scorpius keeps studying at uni and Albus keeps his job at the ministry but they spend all of their time together

Scorpius loves magic and Albus loves muggle things, and they live the best albeit weirdest life together

#cursed child #scorpius malfoy #wow that was a word dump

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wolfpawn · 5 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Shy Chapter 5

Previous Chapter

Chapter Summary - Paige wakes up next to Tom, both discuss the night before, the only issue is, as they do, the sound of women’s boots stride across the floor downstairs.

Tag, @wolfsmom1 @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer

anyone else who wishes to be added to the tags, just ask :)

The meal went incredibly well. His mother and sister adored Paige. There was nothing she seemed to say that they could find f ault with. She was, like the night of the gathering in the Cumberbatches and in Tom’s own home the night before, wonderful company. She spoke on a large range of topics, literature, history, politics. When they learnt she had studied in Oxford, it seemed yet another box regarding a worthy partner for Tom was ticked. All the time throughout the meal, Tom watched with trepidation that Paige would finally have enough of the situation and admit the truth, or something would rattle his deception, but nothing did. Paige was the most incredibly patient woman, giving his mother and sister her full attention. Laughing and joking with them as though they knew each other for years. It was a wonderful meal, part of him wished for it never to end, Paige was everything someone could want in a partner as far as he was concerned. He remembered her commented the night before, of how her ex had called her boring. Having been in her presence and, also having been in bed with her, he could very much confirm with complete certainty, that she was not boring in any manner, and the man that had done what he had to her, was nothing more than a selfish prick.

When the time came to pay, Tom could see the determination in Paige’s eyes. He gave a slight shake of his head, hoping to convey that it was his treat, as she had been forced into the situation because of him, but the slight shake she returned told him she would have none of it. He sighed, not sure what way to argue it when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He ignored the device, knowing his mother would scold him for checking it at a meal, something she had practically forbidden but when it kept vibrating, he became worried. He took it out and carefully noted who was calling.

“Thomas.” His mother gave a warning.

“It’s Luke and he has rung four times and sent three messages to pick up,” Tom explained, apologising and walking to a quiet area to see what his publicist wanted.

“My brother is an utter twat sometimes, what is someone like you doing with him, honestly, you could do way better.” Sarah declared as soon as Tom was gone.

Paige, seeing the smile on her face, laughed. “Tom is amazing, honestly, I love just talking to him. He is so animated about his passions, he is so respectful, one of the few men I have ever even gone to dinner with that actually is respectful of women, Mrs Hiddleston, you raised the most incredible man, I genuinely hope you know that. But it’s clear you did that with all three of your kids. The respect he speaks of you and Emma,” She looked a Sarah. “And even how he references the women he has done projects with, or even simply met in passing, honestly, he is a credit to your family.”

Diana gave a proud smile. “I am very glad to hear that. Tom has always been incredibly well behaved on that front. I mean, he had some boyish mischief, but thankfully nothing with regards women, so many men have so little respect.” Paige did not even register that she was nodding, Derek very much front and centre in her mind. If only she had not been so foolish as to waste her time with such a prick, she wished she had met someone more like Tom, considerate and fun. She loved talking to him and she loved his family, but the feeling of rejection, betrayal and heartache came to the fore once more and she shook the idea of perhaps trying to find someone new from her mind once more and instead refocused on merely enjoying some company for a short period. Tom’s family, like him, were lovely people, so she wanted to enjoy their presence.

Tom returned to the table a few minutes later, looking incredibly sheepish. The three women looked at him expectantly. “We’ve been spotted.” He stated. He looked directly at Paige when he spoke next. “Your battery has died, I assume?” Frowning slightly, Paige took out her phone and looked at the screen, pressing the side button only to have his words confirmed when it failed to light up, a red light flashing for a moment, she looked at him and nodded. “Apparently, Oscar is trying to get through to you, after failing, he has instead gotten on to Luke, they are working out what is the best thing to say.” Paige felt her eyebrows raise at his words, Oscar, her PR officer/manager rarely needed to worry about these things with her. “They’re not overly bothered, merely annoyed we said nothing about going out in public and them having nothing prepared.

Paige knew what Tom was saying, she could see it in his eyes, he was pleading and apologising with his eyes for her to go along with it. Internally, Paige swore never to help another person again. It really was true what they say, ‘no good deed goes unpunished’. She looked at Tom, sighed and nodded. It would do her no favours to go against what Oscar was asking her to do on this, she knew that. He only had her best interests at heart, he had ever since the beginning, so she would trust him on this. Tom was a lovely guy, no drinking too much, no drugs, no abusive behaviour to anyone, he was the ‘internet’s boyfriend’, a gentleman, and the only person she knew of that was an ex of his was not going to be bothered by her, so she said nothing more and just nodded slightly. No doubt she would have to talk to Oscar about it later. “I guess we better pay up and deal with the real world again.” She got to her feet, her phone case in her hand, her card in it, adamant that she pay for the meal.

“No,” Tom stated firmly, knowing what she was doing.

“Try and stop me.”

The smirk on her face made it all the more fun for Tom. “You shouldn’t, it’s my family and after everything…”

Paige leant up and whispered into his ear, “If you think this makes up for what I’ve put up with today, you have another thing coming, ‘Hiddles’, You owe me big time for this.” “I thought you weren’t keeping a tab?” He smiled back, loving the clearly playful mannerisms she was displayed.

“I reconsidered.” Tom licked his teeth, seeing the playful look on her face. “I don’t blame you.” He was going to apologise again when the waitress came over. He went to give her his card when Paige took out hers and a twenty-pound note. The waitress took hers and place it in the machine. “But…” “Yeah, you’ve got to speak the language of the working person, they don’t teach you that in Cambridge.” She took the machine and put in her pin number before handing it back to the waitress.

“Did you pay extra for it in Oxford?” “No, actually, that one came from the School of Mum who came from a single parent home, who never got past her GCSEs and who worked her ass off to have fuck all. She married my dad, who went through the bottom rung up way of work to own his own company thanks to some very smart choices and when my brother and I were young, my mum went to night school and learnt how to do accounts and secretary work and with a good loan and the happenstance of the global rise in the economies, my parents lucked out and were able to give me and Mark everything we could ever want, but with respect for people in the position my parents had been in. I did my A-levels having never had to know a part-time job because my parents wanted me to focus on school, but Mum educated me what people on the life of a struggling to get by waitress, including, tipping.” She took her card back and said her thanks to the waitress.

“I tip.”

“But to get your card to be the one taken, you need to tip well and show it from the start.”

“It’s nice to let someone treat you from time to time.” Paige gave an almost scoffing face in retort. “When was the last time you let someone treat you to something?” “I don’t need someone to treat me, I treat me.” “That’s not a valid answer to that particular question.”

“Does it matter?” “Yes,” Tom studied her face curiously. “You see, I think this is part of your issue, you are so used to not being treated that you don’t realise you are not obligated to pay for things.” “I am fully aware I do not need to, but I wished to. I enjoyed this and since we are being honest, be honest with me, when was the last time a woman did not expect you to pay for something without ulterior motives for it?” Tom’s brows rose for a moment before he cast his mind back. In all honesty, Taylor had her own money, but looking back, with her actions with her songs, she made it back tenfold in the end. “Exactly. Allow yourself to be treated, Tom. the fact it is not expected of me is a very pleasant change. I never get cooked a homemade dinner quite as you made.” She turned and went back to the table, satisfied none heard their quiet exchange.

Tom went to the bathroom for a moment, startled by the allure of such an incredibly independent woman, and one so unapologetically so. He liked strong women, it was something he always found attractive, but Paige was unapologetic about it in a manner unlike many others, would make it a point of principal to declare, ad naseum, that they were independent in a manner that seemed to them to be their only defining feature, not simply a part of their overall person.

Paige returned to the table, his mother and sister having seen but not heard the slight argument for who would pay and having seen Paige rise victorious from the situation.

“Thank you.” Sarah smiled. “You know, from your books and your interviews I have read, I knew you were amazing, but meeting you, you’re even more so.” “I’m not perfect.” “No one is,” Diana replied. “It’s the ones that do not admit that who you should be wary of.” Paige nodded, she had met so many like that since she began her career. “So, you will consider going with him to aunt Geraldine’s?”

“I will check my work schedule.” She smiled diplomatically.

When Tom arrived back to the table, he could see from simply looking at Paige that his mother had badgered her more. He gave another apologetic look and suggested they leave.

Diana requested that he bring her and Sarah to Oxford Street so they could go shopping, which he did without complaint. The women said goodbye to the pair quickly, with comments that they would see them again soon and once more suggesting that Paige join the family at the aunt’s event in the coming fortnight. Tom pulled away from the curb and drove off, Paige sitting in the passenger seat, saying very little.

“I don’t even know where to start apologising,” Tom confessed.

“I have learnt a very valuable lesson from this,” Paige commented plainly.

“Don’t say ‘yes’ to me?” Tom hampered a guess, half joking.

“Don’t say yes to anyone. Don’t help anyone.” Tom looked at her, startled, her face was not showing the smile of earlier, instead, it was almost sad. “I try to be nice and I end up getting into a mess.”

“I am genuinely sorry.”

“It’s my own fault. I am a big girl, I have to take responsibility for me.”

Nothing more was said between the pair as the car went through the streets of London until they got to Archway.

“Left at the traffic lights.” Tom glanced at Paige, who was instead focusing on the streets going by. “Anywhere along there is good. My place is down a narrow enough street so I don’t want to be a bother.” “It’s fine, honestly.” Tom stole another glance and felt his guilt rise, she clearly felt awkward. He did too, but clearly, she was more so. He indicated and went left.

“It’s on the right.” She barely spoke above a whisper.

Tom indicated again and waited for further instruction. After a moment, one house stuck out to him. “It’s that one, isn’t it?” He pointed to the second last building from the end. Paige stared at him, startled at his accurate assumption. “It screams ‘You’.” He explained.

“How?” Tom shrugged. “I’m not sure, it just does.”

Paige did not know what to say to that. “I hope I was of help to you for your part.” She went to open the door.

“Paige, I cannot apologise enough to you.” “It’s fine, honestly.” “Evidently not. I have no idea what my Mum said when I went to the bathroom but you have become almost downtrodden since and I feel terrible for that.”

“It’s not something negative. You have an incredible family Tom. I see with Ben that getting to where you want to be in your business is hard, keeping who you are while doing it is even harder. Your Mum is incredible, she is so caring and wants nothing but the best for the three of you and it shows, and honestly, I can see why Sophie always goes on about how incredibly good and how much of a gentleman you are and it is clear your mother is a huge part of that.” “Then why are you so down?” “Because I don’t get the pleasure of doing it again.” She confessed. “Thank you, Tom. I will let you get back to normality and I better get on to Oscar before he terminates our contract.”

“Luke would take you in a heartbeat, I dare say he would love to get rid of me sometimes, I am nothing but trouble when I get started.”

Paige laughed. “Yeah, you’re definitely an undercover Kurt Cobain or Liam Gallagher type personality, aren’t you?”

“I hide it well.” Paige laughed again. “You are by far, one of the most incredible women I have had the pleasure to meet, and I genuinely mean that.” “That’s very kind of you, Hiddles.” She smirked, seeing his reaction to the nickname. “I will hopefully talk to you soon.” “I hope so. Perhaps at one of Sophie and Ben’s dinners.” “Perhaps.” She opened the door, got out and walked towards the house. As soon as she did, a somewhat fat looking ginger cat rushed out from a garden to meow at her. “What?” It meowed again. “Are you seriously on my back about what I do?” Another meow. “You see, this is why she leaves you outside, you are too much of a damn Busybody.”

Tom could not help but laugh at Paige’s interaction with the feline. It was silly but funny to see her act in such a manner. He had, more than once, reacted to animals in a similar manner, it was a good way to be in his opinion. With a final wave to one another, she went into her home and he drove away.

#Once Bitten Twice Shy #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston #chapter 5

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how-to-survive-a-factory-tour · 5 years

Text

How to Survive a Factory Tour - Chapter 9

A Sanders Sides / Charlie and the Chocolate Factory FanFiction

—————

“What the heck are those?” My curiosity is sparked by the unusual sight, and I stand, walking over to the river bank. There, on the other side, stands a person. But they don’t look like a normal person… Not at all...

“What are you looking at?” Roman asks as he, Patton and Virgil come and stand by me. I point across the river to where the strange person is picking sweets from a bush.

“Woah, it’s a little person!” Patton gasps. “They’re so small…”

“Somehow even smaller than you, Logan. Didn’t know that was possible.” I shove Roman’s arm at this comment. “Ow, hey, I was kidding!”

We continue to watch the unusual person work. As time goes by, we notice more and more around the room, all harvesting various sweets and chocolates. They are most peculiar… They’re all about the size of a large doll. No higher than my knee. Ethan comes over and joins us after a bit, curious as to what we’re all staring at. Then Wonka comes over. “Ah, I see you found the Oompa Loompas!”

“The what?” Roman turns to him.

“Oompa Loompas. They’re my workers. They come from a country called Loompaland, and island just off Madagascar-“

“There’s no such place,” I cut over.

“Yes there is.”

“Mr Wonka, I got an A** in my geography GCSE-“

“Then you’ll know all about it. And, oh, what a terrible country it is.”

Wonka proceeds to tell us all about this supposed ‘Loompaland’. Apparently, he went there to discover new flavours for sweets, but he instead found the Oompa Loompas. They were starving, and were often the prey of (likely fictional) creatures called ‘Hornswogglers’, ‘Snozzwangers’ and ‘Wangdoodles’. So, Wonka helped them by offering them work in his factory in exchange for cocoa beans. They agreed and here they are.

If this completely absurd story is true, the connotations to the slave trade are too prominent to ignore. The Oompa Loompas were even shipped to America on a boat, packed together. Unfortunately, I am unable to inquire about this as Virgil speaks up.

“They were mentioned in the book… The whole story of how you got them is described exactly the same… Mr Wonka, how much of the book about the original tour is true?”

“It’s 100% factual.”

“Bullshit. There’s no way all that could happen in real life.”

“Indeed it can, my boy, and indeed it did. Augustus Gloop fell in this very river, and got sucked up those very pipes. The pipes lead to all the different rooms in the factory where chocolate is required. All the chocolate comes from here so that it is mixed by waterfall. It’s very important it is, as that’s what makes it so light and delicious.”

Virgil still doesn’t seem convinced. “But Violet… there’s no way she-”

“True.”

“Veruca never could have-”

“True.”

“But Mike-”

“True.”

Virgil’s silent for a moment. “... What about Charlie? At the end of the book, he wins the factory and he and his family move in. If it’s true, then where is he?”

Wonka doesn’t respond. But his face… he looks almost solemn. Only for a second, however, before his bright demeanour returns. “Oh, look! Here she comes!”

“Here who comes?” Roman asks.

Wonka points to a tunnel on the wall that the river flows through. Cutting through the melted chocolate is a large pink Viking-style boat. “Our transportation to the next room!”

Figuring I shouldn’t cross-contaminate food items between rooms, I take the gum I had been chewing out my mouth and stick it to a tree as the boat pulls up. Patton sees me and puts down the large gummy bear he had been eating.

The boat comes to a stop by the bank where we are all standing. Oompa Loompas are sat in rows, five per oar. As they all look at us, they all start laughing and giggling.

“What do they find so humorous?” I ask.

“It’s probably nothing,” Wonka shrugs. “They’re always joking and laughing about things. Now, come on, hop in!”

Wonka sits at the back of the boat, Roman and Virgil sit in the row in front of him, while Patton, myself and Ethan sit in the row in front of them.

“Onward! Set a course for… Hmm, where would you all like to go?”

“Ooh, is there a room with cookies and cakes?” Patton asks, legs swinging excitedly.

“I know just the place. Set a course for Dessert Island!”

The Oompa Loompas push the boat away from the bank, and start rowing us down the river.

“Here.” I turn and see Wonka has five cups and is scooping up cups of melted chocolate from the river, before he hands them to each of us. We all thank him, and I take a small sip. My sweet tooth takes over my knowledge that chocolate is very unhealthy, and I drink the rest in a few more gulps.

I hear a giggle beside me. “Lo, you got it all round your mouth.” Patton lifts the sleeve of the hoodie tied over his shoulders and wipes my mouth with it.

“Thank you, Patton…”

“No problem, Lo!”

I hear Roman whisper “I ship it” to Virgil behind me. What does that mean? He’s shipping an item of his from home to his hotel room, I’m guessing. In which case, his grammar was deplorable.

My thoughts are pulled away from Roman’s lack of literary skills when Patton lets out a content sigh. “This is nice, huh? Just drifting gently along a river…”

“Yes,” I agree. “It is rather relaxing.”

And, I can only assume, romantic. Would this be a good time to take Roman’s advice and try and confess my feelings to Patton?

I take a deep breath. Here we are, this is it. I just need to tell him how I feel and hope he reciprocates…

“Patton?”

“Yeah, Lo?”

“Um, there’s something I need to-“

“Dark tunnel incoming!” Ethan’s voice calls, cutting me off. We all turn to see we’re heading right towards a pitch black tunnel.

“Faster!” Wonka calls, and as we near the tunnel, we start to speed up. Then, as we enter, there’s a jolt, and suddenly we’re moving faster than a car on the motorway. I can only assume the Oompa Loompas are rowing quicker than should be humanly possible, as it’s too dark to see anything.

“How can they see where we’re going?!” Virgil calls.

“There’s no knowing where they’re going!” Wonka replies, hooting with laughter.

“There’s no earthly way of knowing

Which direction they are going!

There’s no knowing where they’re rowing,

Or which way they river’s flowing!

Not a speck of light is showing,

So the danger must be growing,

For the rowers keep on rowing,

And they’re certainly not showing

Any signs that they are slowing!”

“Well, this is great. Our tour leader’s gone crazy,” Virgil says.

“I haven’t gone crazy! Oh, by the way, hold on tight!”

“Hold on ti-?” My question’s cut off as we suddenly plummet, my voice being replaced with a scream. Luckily, my scream is dwarfed by Roman, who lets out a screech so loud I worry Virgil was deafened.

As we dart down, my hands hold the bench of the boat in a death grip, and I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist.

“Switch on the lights!” Wonka yells, and suddenly the tunnel is flooded with bright coloured lights. I look down to see Patton is the one holding onto him, and my face heats up.

But then, with a loud splash, we reach the bottom of the drop, straightening up and slowing down.

Patton opens his eyes that had been closed tightly in fear, and looks up at me. He immediately lets go and leans back. “Oh, I-I’m sorry! I, uh… I just got scared I was gonna fall out…”

“It’s, um, it’s quite alright, Patton…”

We continue to gently flow along, the current carrying us past many doors with different room titles. One of them catches my eye and sparks my curiosity.

“What’s the ‘Inventing Room’?”

“That is where all my new and unfinished inventions are created and completed. If you’d like, we can head there after Dessert Island.”

“Don’t you mean ‘desert’?” Roman asks. “You keep pronouncing it wrong.”

“I know what I said,” is Wonka’s only response.

We float on for a couple more minutes, when Patton giggles.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just the lights, they’re making us all look different colours,” Patton explains, currently doused in yellow light. “You’re this bright reddy-purple.”

And he looks gorgeous, like he’s bathed in sunlight...

No! Shut up, gay thoughts, now isn’t the time! That flume killed the romantic mood, the moment’s over.

The boat starts to slow and veer closer to the wall. It comes to a complete stop outside of a door.

Wonka steps out and the rest of us follow. Once we’re all on dry land, he turns and opens the door labelled ‘Dessert Island’.

—————

Taglist: @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @clone-number-1 @pumpkinminette @why-should-i-tell-youu2

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