#but yeah anyway I find it funny how much easier it is for jacob to make friends with people who are older than him than his age

[carewyncromwell]

"Everyone’s a writer -- painter -- poet! Everything is avant-garde or chic!

We’ll be in the know before we know it... When you’re in the know, it’s -- Oh, it’s magnifique! To find in Paris what you seek..."

~"Paris Holds the Key (to Your Heart)" from Anastasia (musical)

x~x~x~x

Jacob Cromwell's graduation from Hogwarts truly was an underdog story, to most people's minds. After getting roped into the likes of R, losing his two closest companions to petrification and death respectively, getting expelled, and finally getting trapped in a magical portrait for seven years, it was something of a miracle when he was able to turn it all around with nothing but his astounding intellect and magical talent, graduating with full honors in the spring of 1991. Many presumed that after the trauma he'd undergone, Jacob would settle into life at home with a respectable new career in the Wizarding World -- his sister Carewyn certainly did, taking a much more peaceful job at the Ministry of Magic as a lawyer.

Jacob, however, celebrated his graduation and freedom by traveling the world and doing and learning as much as he could -- and in those travels, he ended up making quite a name for himself, not as "that delinquent Jacob Cromwell," but as a freelance magical researcher. One of those people who took immediate notice of Jacob's brilliance in this regard was a witch who ended up becoming a very good friend of his -- the statuesque Headmistress of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, Olympe Maxime.

It all started when Jacob finally -- after pecking away at it off-and-on for about two years around his travels and random Cursebreaking expeditions -- finished a scholarly essay applying the principles of Muggle chemistry to various Potions ingredients. It was a subject he'd first experimented with in his fifth year at Hogwarts (right in the middle of his Potions OWL, ridiculous as it was), but Jacob had felt more prepared to return to the subject after doing more research and even covertly sitting in on a few Muggle chemistry classes while traveling abroad. Then over the span of the next twenty months, he wrote out a full piece on all of the research he'd done, adding in some theories about a variation of the periodic table possibly being applied to various Potions ingredients and how applying the principles of organic chemistry to Potioneering could spur the invention of new Potions. Jacob sent a copy of his essay to his former professor and friend, Horace Slughorn, and the ex-Potionsmaster reacted with great enthusiasm.

Pleasantries aside, though -- Jacob, my boy, your essay! I spent an absolutely lovely afternoon reading it over a glass of brandy, and I was simply enraptured by it! I hope you don't mind, but I've already sent a snippet of it off to a friend of mine who writes for The Practical Potioneer, to see if he'd be interested in publishing the whole thing in some future edition -- such a thing awaiting your explicit consent, of course.

Jacob enthusiastically gave Slughorn the "go-ahead" to send the rest of his essay along, if his friend expressed interest in publishing it. Later that year, when Jacob came home for Christmas, he was able to surprise his mother and sister with their own first editions of the potioneering magazine containing his essay. Lane was so delighted and proud that she actually ended up bursting into silent tears.

"The Practical Potioneer," she breathed, her wispy voice choked with emotion. "Oh, Jay...I used to read that every month, when I was in school...whenever the Hogwarts library got in a new copy that I could check out...and now..." She brought her hands up to cradle her son's cheeks, "...now my little Blue Jay's gotten published in it!"

Jacob opened his arms in anticipation of the big hug his mother gave him, squeezing her tight. Despite being just as strong of a Legilimens as Carewyn, he'd never been as good at sensing people's emotions as she was -- but in this moment, he was positive: his mother was so, so proud of him. And that feeling filled Jacob up with so much vindication and warmth that he too felt close to tears.

Both Lane and Carewyn would put Jacob's article in positions of honor. Carewyn framed all four pages of Jacob's essay and mounted them on the wall of her office under a print of Hogsmeade village Badeea had painted for her. Lane herself left the magazine with her son's essay out on the side table by her favorite "reading window" for the rest of her life, and she shared it with every single one of the few visitors she invited to her cottage.

x~x~x~x

As fate would have it, a French Potioneer traveling abroad on holiday picked up several Potioneering magazines from the countries he visited, so as to read them on his long train ride home. One of those such magazines ended up being that very edition of The Practical Potioneer, and the French wizard was thoroughly charmed by the theories presented by the British researcher called Jacob Cromwell: so much so that he translated the essay into French and then sent it and the original magazine to the French Wizarding World's main newspaper, Le Cri de la Gargouille. The paper then published the translation of Jacob's essay in their paper in February 1994, specifically as part of their Mode de Vie Magique section -- a section that was, in fact, a favorite of one Olympe Maxime.

About a week after Le Cri de La Gargouille printed Jacob's translated article, Jacob received a letter via owl post that was sealed with a light blue seal marked with a cursive "B" over two crossed wands.

Monsieur Cromwell, Firstly, I must apologize if this letter reaches you more than once. When seeking out an address for you, I was informed that you currently have no permanent address, and so I had to get creative to find a way to contact you directly. Fortunately it seems that the Owl Office in Paris is most resourceful in locating witches and wizards while they are on holiday abroad. But now, to business. A week or so ago, while reading La Cri de La Gargouille, I came across your essay regarding the application of Non-Magic chemistry to our own Potioneering, and to put it simply, I found it absolutely enthralling. I profess no expertise in Non-Magic science, aside from the psychology books I've read by Non-Magic authors, but your knowledge of the two subjects is clearly thorough, and your conclusions in comparing the two were fascinating. Your application of Non-Magic chemistry to Potioneering is a subject I would like very much to share with my older students, in preparation for their entry into the Wizarding World. And so it is because of this that I cordially invite you to the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic for a high tea on the afternoon of March 1st, at 3 o' clock. Please RSVP as soon as possible -- I hope that since my return address is so prominent, your response should not take long to reach me. Chaleureusement, Olympe Maxime Directice of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic

x~x~x~x

To say Jacob was thrilled at the prospect of visiting the famous Beauxbatons Academy would be an understatement. He was so over the moon at the prospect that he sent letters to Carewyn, Lane, his best friend Olivia Green, Horace Slughorn, Filius Flitwick and Madam Rosmerta about it, before he finally calmed down enough to remember that he hadn't even RSVPed to Madame Maxime's invitation properly.

Salut, Madame Maxime! Mon français n'est pas très bon, mais j'ai pensé que je devais répondre dans votre langue, parce que vous m'avez écrit dans mon langue. Le français est une belle langue aussi -- c'est ma préférée des langues gallo-romantiques. J'aimerais beaucoup te rendre visite! J'ai lu beaucoup de livres sur votre école. Je ne peux pas attendre! À bientôt! Jacob Cromwell

Jacob then had to immediately set about making travel plans to France. First he took a boat from Rebun Island (his current location) to Tokyo; then he took a very long plane ride from Tokyo to Frankfurt, Germany; once he'd gotten his bearings, he then took a train to Paris, where he was able to take the Floo Network from le Place Cachée to the Wizarding village of Lapinfort, by the outskirts of Lourdes. It was in Lapinfort that Jacob was handed a response from his sister Carewyn, which had arrived via owl the previous day.

Dear Jacob, I just got your letter. I can't believe you're actually going to visit Beauxbatons Academy! I know how much you've always wanted to go there, and to know you've been invited there by Madame Maxime herself...I'm so proud of you! I'm not exaggerating when I say I'm rereading your letter as I'm writing this and I can't stop smiling. Truly, though, I hope you get on with Madame Maxime, and that your lecture for her students goes well. I met Maxime once when she accompanied my school friend Penny's penpal Aurelie Dumont on a visit to Hogwarts, and she's a very glamorous woman. But please, Jacob, I'm begging you, don't make ANY comments about her size -- she's even taller than Hagrid, and I get the feeling she's secretly very self-conscious about it. The last thing I want is for you to make a bad first impression!! As the French say, "bonne chance!" Write to me as soon as you get this, and then be sure to also write to me all about your meeting, after it's over -- I want to know everything. Love you, Carewyn

Jacob wrote Carewyn a quick note to let her know of his safe arrival. Then, once he'd finished, he went into town and found a carriage led by flying horses that could take him over the Pyranees mountains and to the famous Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.

It was truly as beautiful of a school as Jacob's books had claimed. Just as Hogwarts was a mysterious, grand stone castle, Beauxbatons was likewise a kind of palace, though one far more ornamental and delicate: a true French chateau, framed by elegant gardens trimmed with fairy lights.

As Jacob disembarked from the carriage, he found himself enchanted by the tiny seashells embedded into the cement paths that led through the gardens. He soon found himself wandering the left of these paths, rather than looking for the entrance properly, and found himself embarking on a quest to locate the center of the hedge maze he'd found himself in. It wasn't until about a half-hour later that he found his way back out and to Beauxbatons' entrance.

When Jacob reached the grand, white front doors, they sparkled with silver sparkles as they opened for him. Clearly the school knew this was a welcome guest, rather than an enemy -- Jacob's eyes lit up at this thought, and only became brighter seeing the school's interior.

The ceilings were even high than Hogwarts's, and shining as bright white as a spring-time sky full of angelic clouds. The halls were framed by large, beautiful, painted marble columns trimmed with gold, as well as countless living portraits trimmed with ornate ivory frames. There were crystal chandeliers decorated with colorful glass flowers and ivy that sparkled with even more fairy lights. Living statues were mounted in displays of honor down the hall, and they all turned their heads to look at Jacob as he passed. Everything was so bright and pristine, and yet not flimsy. There was power here, inside of this ageless, seemingly fragile beauty: the kind found in the Greek Parthenon or the palace of Versailles.

"Ah...Monsieur Cromwell."

Jacob looked up, startled, to find a very foreboding, but beautiful woman dressed all in light blue satin with a white feathered-shawl around her shoulders, approaching him. She was large before she got close, but once she had, she towered over him, nearly as tall as the ceiling.

Like Hagrid, Jacob recalled.

The thought of the friendly gamekeeper, as well as of Carewyn's letter, made Jacob grin from ear to ear.

"...You must be Madame Maxime!"

"Oui," she said lightly. "You are late, Monsieur Cromwell -- I expected you 'alf an 'our ago."

The Directice's dark eyes flitted over the much smaller man, taking in his incredibly informal white t-shirt and jeans with muted disapproval.

Jacob, however, was blissfully unaware of this.

"Oh yeah -- sorry about that!" he said brightly. "I was just exploring your gardens -- fabulous hedge maze you've got, on par with the one at Villandry Castle. I think I found at least one of its treasures in my wanderings -- that is, if you don't count the absolutely beautiful Herbology specimens...nearly got caught in that French Devil's Snare, when trying to examine your color-changing peonies. But at the center of the maze, I found your garden of wood nymphs -- "

Maxime looked very startled. "You found eet?"

"Yeah! Bloody brilliant use of Concealment Charms, though -- took me about ten tries, before I got the order of turns right...but yeah, so I found the garden in the center, and that tree...absolutely stunning! I don't even know what breed it is exactly, maybe a variation of Wiggentree, but it's exquisite! Is it unique? It surely must be -- I've never seen one so big! Anyhow, the wood nymph Queen wasn't so keen on me getting close, but once I showed her I meant no harm, she pointed the way out for me...who knew wood nymphs would be so keen on Whitney Houston? Though really, I don't blame them -- Whitney's got a wicked set of pipes -- obviously I couldn't do her song the same justice she would've, but hey..."

Many a person had found Jacob's talkativeness exhausting to deal with, in the past. Even Jacob's first friend and love Duncan Ashe had frequently had to tell Jacob to shut up now and again, whenever he'd go off the deep end in rambling. Surprisingly, however, Madame Maxime didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable or overwhelmed -- if anything, her expression bloomed into something a bit more intrigued.

"You zaid zat you not only found our garden for ze wood nymphs in less zhan an hour," she said, "but zat you also earned zheir favor? Monsieur Cromwell -- I do not zhink you are aware of quite how rare zat is."

Jacob cocked his eyebrows, smiling fully. "Why, because of your Concealing magic? Ah, well, I am a freelance Cursebreaker, a lot of the time...puzzles are my favorite thing. And magical creatures are always groovy -- you should meet my friend Hagrid, he works at Hogwarts, he's swell with creatures..."

"What I mean is zat conquering zat maze is a test all seventh year students must face 'ere at Beauxbatons, in order to graduate," Maxime said, her smile spreading more fully. "And most only reach ze garden, before 'aving to quickly leave it. Ze wood nymphs are very protective of zheir tree -- which, yes, is a one of a kind specimen: I rescued it on a trip to Greece myself," he eyes twinkled with a bit of mischief.

Jacob blinked. Then his face broke out into a bigger smile than ever, his skull-like light blue eyes positively alight with delight.

"So does that make me worthy of touring the hallowed halls of your Academy, Directice?" he asked, raising his eyebrows eagerly.

Maxime beamed. "Quite worthy, Monsieur Cromwell."

"Groovy!" cheered Jacob. "Because I was meaning to ask about your school's architecture -- everything I've read about Beauxbatons states that it was built in the 13th century, but all of the decor and landscaping I've seen since I got here is distinctly Baroque -- more properly, Rococo-inspired, which wasn't popular until the 17th century at the earliest. I would assume Beauxbatons has gone through some structural changes thorough-out the years -- understandable, given the history of war on France's borders, in contrast to the isolated Scottish Highlands where Hogwarts is situated -- but are these original from that period, or was it brought back in a revival, after the fall of Napoleon and the virulent anti-monarchist views held by the common man had calmed enough that such beauty could be celebrated again, rather than solely condemned?"

Maxime indulged Jacob's questions as they walked down the long hall and then up a grand staircase to her office. Once there, she offered Jacob some tea (which Jacob drank to be polite) and a dish of endlessly duplicating chocolate madeleines (which Jacob couldn't stop eating). While drinking their tea, Maxime asked Jacob some questions of her own about the kinds of magical research he'd been working on, which prompted Jacob to go off on a tangent about poisons and antidotes, which in turn got Maxime eagerly talking about the perfumes she mixed herself, using the flowers grown in the Beauxbatons gardens.

"Truly, it iz also not zo different from your non-Magique 'chemistry,'" said Maxime. "Just as with Potions, you zimply need zome zort of essential oil, a proper base, and zhen different 'notes,' to achieve ze desired effect. Combine jojouba oil, lavender, and rose with just a 'int of Lady's Mantle as a top note, and voila! You have a perfume zat not only makes you feel relaxed and beautiful, but makes you both smell and appear even more beautiful, to ze people around you."

Jacob's eyes lit up. "Using Beauty Potion ingredients in perfumes! What a groovy idea! I can't wait to tell my Pip -- she's always liked lavender as a scent..."

Maxime beamed, clearly very pleased by Jacob's enthusiasm. "You can zee why your piece about applying non-Magique chemistry to Potions interested me zo much. I would frankly love to 'ear 'ow you'd explain your theories to my students...if you would be willing to let me 'sit in' on your lecture."

"Of course!" Jacob said at once, without any hesitation. His grin was so big he could hardly contain it. "Mais oui! I'd be honored!"

Maxime and Jacob would go on to talk for another whole hour, long after the tea was gone. It was only then that Maxime brought Jacob downstairs toward the Potions classroom, where a set of seventh years had just filed in, and introduced Jacob to the class before settling in the very back of the room as he started his lecture. Although Jacob went on quite a few long tangents in his lecture, his enthusiasm captivated the French students, so much so that they couldn't even look down too much on the weird Briton with the crazy hair and sloppy clothes. He was so animated and intelligent when he talked that soon all of the students were raising their hands and engaging with him, asking follow-up questions and even challenging his conclusions, which Jacob reacted to with almost more enthusiasm than he did to the questions. By the time Jacob's lecture was through, Maxime's eyes positively radiated with how charmed she was by this tiny, quirky little wizard with the messy curls.

"You will have to visit again, when next you publish anozher zuch work," she said insistently.

"Oh, totally!" said Jacob eagerly. "I'd love to come again sometime. Even just to explore some more -- your school really is smashing! I'd love to see your library next time..."

"Mais oui -- but of course."

Jacob's enthusiasm clearly pleased Maxime greatly. It made her give a slightly-too-hard pat to Jacob's cheek that ended up more feeling like a slap.

"Au revoir, Monsieur Cromwell," said Maxime with a warm smile. "I do 'ope zat you shall visit France again soon."

Jacob blinked. Then he smiled a bit more awkwardly.

"Well, uh...my travels kind of keep me on the move. I don't really know when I'll be anywhere a lot of the time -- I just sort of figure it out as I go along. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't like to come back sometime, obviously! And until I do, I could always send you letters, if you'd like. I love sending letters," Jacob added with a grin.

Maxime cocked her eyebrows. "You do not zeem to like receiving zhem quite so much, if you do not have a proper return address."

Jacob laughed uncomfortably. "Oh no, it's...not me not liking receiving letters, I just...keep forgetting to file for a proper collection box, with the Owl Office. Pip's always getting on me for that -- she ends up getting most of the letters for me, and she thinks it'd be a lot easier if people just sent them straight to me, rather than her having to figure out where to send stuff to me based on what I tell her of where I'm next going..."

"Your 'Pip' iz right about zat," said Maxime with a cool smile. "I would zuppose she is just too nice to tell you to stop making 'er pick up after you."

Jacob laughed a bit more fully, though still rather uncomfortably.

"Yeah...yeah, I guess you're right..." He smiled a bit more fully. "All right -- when I get a proper collection box, I'll let you know straight away."

"Good," said Maxime. "I would not like to 'ave to zend three of ze same letter again. I am not ze zort of woman who likes to appear desperate."

Jacob laughed again despite himself. "Desperate? I wouldn't have said that. I thought that it just made you determined, honestly. It sounds like just the sort of thing my Pip would do, to make sure she reached me."

"I have met your zister before, Jacob Cromwell, however briefly," said Maxime, her wry smile widening a bit. "Zo I know, both because of 'er and because of your clear esteem for 'er, zat your comparison is a great compliment."

Jacob grinned. "Better believe it is."

Sure enough, with Madame Maxime's prodding, Jacob opened up a collection box with the Owl Office and enchanted it so that his mail could seamlessly appear in a collection tray on the desk inside his portable room in a suitcase. With this, he was able to receive and send letters a lot more quickly and efficiently -- and it was because of this that Jacob received the news of Cedric Diggory's death so quickly from both Carewyn and Maxime and he was so quick to return home to the United Kingdom in the spring of 1995. Jacob would lose touch with Madame Maxime when she went with Hagrid to negotiate with the giants, but they would reestablish contact after her during the War and especially after, when they no longer had to send messages in code.

The two would remain friends for many years to come, sending letters and gifts to each other while Jacob was traveling. One of Jacob's favorite gifts from Olympe Maxime ended up being a custom cologne she brewed for him, made of cocoa beans, leather, Egyptian musk, and Lady's Mantle. It was a scent Jacob wore chiefly on dates, when he really wanted to look and feel his best, and whenever anyone asked him about it, he was always incredibly proud to boast about his talented friend, the stately Directice of Beauxbatons herself.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #my writing #jacob cromwell #madame maxime #carewyn cromwell #horace slughorn #lane cromwell #yay jacob content! #I kind of felt like exploring jacob's dynamics with certain characters the way I did for carewyn with umbridge #though this one's obviously a much lighter example #another relationship I wouldn't mind exploring is the bill and jacob relationship #because yeaaaaah jacob kind of resents bill even though he knows he's not a bad person and he's his sister's bestie #but bill kind of 'replaced' jacob in carewyn's life to a degree as older brother figure for a while and that stings #and because bill is so like carewyn in a lot of ways there are definitely points where jacob has secretly felt #as though bill was a better 'brother' for her than he was #not that it'd be easy for him to articulate that either because of his own pride or because he's not as smart emotionally as carey is #but yeah anyway I find it funny how much easier it is for jacob to make friends with people who are older than him than his age #rosmerta flitwick slughorn...even mia who I've written about elsewhere ends up seven years older than jacob thanks to the portrait thing

[thrillridesz]

all i want for christmas | eric

in part of the deobi secret santa project and dedicated as a gift to @channiewoo​ ✨ ( i hope you like it >< i tried my best! )

➳ pairing: college student!eric x reader ( ft juyeon, kevin, chanhee and sangyeon with jacob mentions! )

➳ genre: fluff, fantasy, time travel!au, time loop!au, christmas!au, university!au, love triangle!au ( ish? )

➳ warnings: n/a (PG13)

➳ word count: 4.6k

➳ inspo: lotus inn by why don’t we

➳ fic playlist: all i want for christmas - big time rush ft miranda cosgrove | lotus inn - why don’t we | christmassy! - the boyz | you belong with me - taylor swift | crush - david archuleta

a/n : this is my christmas secret santa gift to eri @channiewoo​  ^^ also hi, i’m your theb secret santa! thank you for being such a sweet person to talk to throughout this month and honestly you really made my first secret santa here on tumblr pretty memorable! i know we’ve just exchanged a few asks here and there but i genuinely did like talking to you though im not the most frequent secret santa anon out there >< i sincerely hope you can forgive me for that. but anyways, i hope you like your gift!!

+ also unedited for now because i really wanted to post this on christmas day... and tags are still not working but i don’t want to delay this any longer

The Christmas spirit could be felt in all corners of the house that night as the sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies and crackling log fire from the fireplace wafted in the air while party guests swayed to the upbeat  Christmas music playing on the stereo and chatted merrily amongst themselves. Outside, fine white snow was falling and against the black canvas of the night sky, it made the streets seem almost serene and even beautiful. Looking out, one could easily feel the Christmas mood as neighbours held their own christmas parties and family gatherings. Everywhere they looked, they would see beautifully decorated houses adorned with Christmas wreaths and intricate fairy lights. Sometimes, one would even see the occasional snowmans displayed out in the neighbours’ yards, covered in scarves and hats with the ever familiar carrot nose. From a distance a few doors down, one could also hear singing - a telltale sign of the local group of Christmas carolers making their rounds in the neighbourhood like they did every year.

This was what Christmas is all about - enjoying good food with loved ones, receiving amazing gifts, going door to door caroling and feeling at home with the people you appreciate and cherish while the winter snow falls outside. Yet, Eric felt anything but. In fact, his heart was pounding against his chest as he sipped nervously at his mug of hot apple cider. Around him, the party guests were mingling and laughing at the college Christmas party as they shared funny stories from the year they had, feeling particularly merry. Normally, it would have been easy for him to get in the mood but not this time.

“I don’t get what you’re so nervous about.” Kevin said, shaking his head. “Why can’t you just talk to her?”

“I don’t want to make a fool out of myself. What if I mess up?” He replied despondently, his eyes softening as he glanced at you from across the room.

There you were - decked out in a cute Christmas outfit just standing by the fireplace, your hair falling around your face and framing it, looking more beautiful than he had remembered. The smile on your face made his heart flutter ever so slightly and he could feel his face grow warmer despite having a huge mug of apple cider just in front of him. The santa hat you wore added just that little touch of sweetness and adorableness to you and Eric couldn’t help but feel his heart start to pound in his chest. If you weren’t already stunning to him, you were breathtakingly beautiful to him now. Every little smile or shy glance made his heart beat just a little faster and he reached up to clutch softly as his chest.

“It’s better than not trying at all, Eric.” Kevin pointed out, taking a bite out of his gingerbread cookie. “You ought to have a little bit more faith in yourself.”

Eric sighed in resignation. “It’s so much easier talking about it than actually doing it. Everytime I think about doing it, I chicken out. I just can’t seem to stop fearing about possibly screwing it up, Kev.”

Kevin regarded him with a sympathetic look before patting him reassuringly on the shoulder. “I understand. Look man, if you don’t feel ready then you don’t have to force yourself to talk to her.”

“I promised myself that today would be the day.”

“Yeah, I know you did but still, you don’t have to force yourself. Your face is turning pale from the anxiety.” The latter said, concerned.

“It is?” Eric asked, alarmed as he quickly turned to the window beside him, checking out his reflection. He narrowed his eyes as he reached up to ruffle his hair in an attempt to make it look somewhat better though all it did was make it seem more tousled.

Kevin watched him, chuckling softly. Men in love are truly a different breed.

“Hey, Kev! I nearly forgot, do you want to listen to my newly curated Christmas playlist? I’ve been meaning to ask but I couldn’t find you.” Sangyeon suddenly appeared from behind the duo, with a joyous grin on his face. Kevin gave Eric a questioning look which he waved away.

“I’ll be fine.” He smiled.

“Alright… If you need anything, just call me!” Kevin said, casting him a last fleeting glance as he walked away with Sangyeon.

Holding the mug of hot apple cider close to his chest, Eric leaned against the cold glass panel of the window, staring out listlessly despite the steady pounding of his heart. He shot a furtive glance in your direction and quickly looked away, his cheeks reddening. At this rate, it would not be long before he turned as red as Rudolph’s nose.

“Get a grip, Eric. Why are you being such a wimp?” He chided himself. Looking around, Eric couldn’t help but observe his surroundings wistfully.

Everyone was seemingly in their element - snacking on Christmas snacks, dancing and just having fun. By the boombox, he watched as Hyunjae engaged in conversation with a girl who he did not recognise. The way they were laughing and the way she so flirtatiously slapped him on the shoulder, giggling at something Hyunjae said made Eric feel so deeply envious. Even from where he was, the smitten look on her face was undeniable and he wondered why he couldn’t have been more of a ladies’ man like Hyunjae was. Things would have been so much easier for him. Why is it that whenever it came to you he was suddenly the most awkward person to grace the face of this earth? It just didn’t make sense to him.

Sighing, he took another sip of his hot apple cider, feeling the liquid burn at the back of his throat. Suddenly, he frowned, his eyes narrowing. Who was that?

He had one of the most attractive faces Eric had ever seen - with soft, fine dark hair, a strong build and a warm smile that simply lit up the room. There he was, talking to you and you sliding your hand over his shoulder, not in a seductive or flirtatious way but in a friendly way though it was still enough to spark jealousy in Eric’s heart. He watched intently as you leaned in to whisper something in his year, his smile growing wider at your words.

Eric longed to know what the two of you were talking about, his grip on his mug growing tighter and firmer.

“Lost your chance, buddy.”

Swivelling around, Eric nearly spilled his apple cider as he turned to face a pink haired boy with an upturned nose. He didn’t remember seeing him around but there was something odd about him that Eric couldn’t quite put his finger on. Not to mention, that statement really did rub him off the wrong way.

“Excuse me?” His tone was slightly icy as he furrowed his brows together, frowning at the stranger in front of him.

“Didn’t you want to talk to her?” The boy asked, taking a swig of his hot chocolate, seemingly not noticing the confused look Eric was shooting him.

“Do I know you?”

“Oh right! I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself. How rude of me… I’m Chanhee but you can call me New. Everyone does,” he smiled warmly, “you’re Eric?”

Eric narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Yes? How do you know my name?”

“I just do. I know everyone,” He waved away his question nonchalantly, “I see you have a Christmas sweetheart.”

He tipped his mug in your direction and Eric felt his face grow hotter, annoyance setting in at the same time.

“How is that any of your business?” He snapped, his tone indignant and confrontational.

“I am here to help so watch your tone around me.” New rolled his eyes, looking at him in disdain though there was a twinkle in his eyes as he continued, “I can help you get the girl.”

Eric cast you a sideway glance before turning back to New with a skeptical expression. Whoever this guy was, he was weird, odd. Yet, the proposal he had proposed was a tempting one and despite himself, he felt inclined to listen. Watching you from afar, Eric’s heart sank just a little deeper as the guy you were talking to suddenly reached up to brush your hair away from your face, the both of you looking into each other’s eyes as he did. The irritation and jealousy he felt came back stronger than ever and before he knew it, the words were out of his mouth before he even knew it.

“How can you help?”

At his words, New grinned, drawing a small crystal vial from his pocket. The vial was filled with a mysterious sparkly, glowy pink liquid and smelled distinctively of roasted chestnuts though Eric was almost a thousand percent sure the liquid was not made of any kind of roasted chestnuts in any shape or form. As New popped open the cap, the scent grew even stronger and Eric shot him an alarmed look.

“What is that? A drug?!” Looking around frantically, it felt like nobody was paying the two of them any attention, being too preoccupied with their own conversations. How is nobody noticing this?

“Calm down and don’t get your panties in a twist.” New scoffed, “It’s a time travel potion. Or a time loop potion if you will.”

This guy is actually crazy. Eric almost wanted to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of it all but barely managed to suppress it.

“Okay…?”

“Yup, I made it myself. Took me like half a year to brew it to perfection but it should work now. I followed each step really closely so there should be no problems.”

“Yeah, sure man. Thanks for wasting my time. If you don’t mind, I’ll be leaving. Thanks for the false hope.” Eric grumbled, taking his leave and not even bothering to consider the chagrined look on New’s face. Mayhaps Christmas is not his time either. He wondered how long this would drag on. When Valentine’s Day rolled around, he chickened out and said ‘next time’. When Halloween rolled around, he chickened out yet again and promised to make a move by Thanksgiving yet when Thanksgiving rolled around, he settled for Christmas. Now…

“Maybe it’s just not meant to be. Maybe I’m just too much of a coward.” He whispered to himself, pushing his way through the crowd of people. As he took yet another sip of his hot apple cider, he couldn’t help but keep his eye on you. The way you were now looping your arms over the guy’s neck and the way he had his large hands on your waist made Eric want to leave the party. If only he had a little bit more faith…

“What time is it anyways?” He murmured to himself, wanting more than anything to leave.

9:04pm. Damn. It wouldn’t be until two hours later for the party to end. Sure, he could always leave early but he would hate to be seen as disrespectful to everyone else especially Jacob, the host of this lovely party.

He stared at the mug of hot apple cider he had in his hand, scrunching up his nose at the taste of it.

Was it just him or did it taste slightly… Off?

Eric gazed at it for a moment before he shook his head. I’m overthinking everything, he thought. However as he stood over the snack table, he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head. It was like having someone slap him at his head before his vision turned blurry. His limbs were beginning to go soft and his mouth dry. What was happening? He blinked rapidly but to no avail. It felt like he was falling in a deep pit…

When he opened his eyes again, everything felt fine. Patting himself lightly on the face, he looked around his surroundings in confusion. Just what was that? Did he imagine all of that? The mug of hot apple cider was still in his hands and the reindeer horns band was still on his head. He was wearing the same clothes and everything had become clear, there were no more blurry visions. The pounding in his head had stopped and it felt like whatever happened earlier was merely a figment of his own imagination.

“Eric…? Eric!”

The voice shook him from his stupor and with a start, he lifted his head to see Kevin regarding him with a questioning look on his face.

“You okay? You zoned out for a minute and I mean, really zoned out.”

“Y-Yeah… Aren’t you supposed to go listen to Sangyeon’s playlist or something?”

Kevin raised an eyebrow.

“What playlist?”

Eric frowned. “Didn’t Sangyeon ask you to listen to his Christmas playlist?”

“Um… No? Even if he has one, he hasn’t asked me yet.”

Eric looked at Kevin with confusion in his eyes. What was going on? Last he remembered, that was exactly what happened. Swivelling around, the confusion got even stronger when he saw you standing all alone at the other corner of the house. Were you not with that guy?

Instantly, he remembered what New had said. “Time travel potion…” He mumbled under his breath, his eyes widening when the realisation dawned upon. No way…

Whipping out his phone, it felt like his heart was about to pound right out of his chest when he saw the time. His throat felt dry and tight as he stared, unable to believe his eyes.

8:46pm.

Eric suddenly recalled the weird taste he had gotten in his cider and instinctively, his hand reached up to cover his mouth. There was no other explanation for this other than the fact that one, that New or was it Kyu guy had not been lying when he spoke of a time travel potion and two, he had slipped him the potion on purpose when he wasn’t looking. He could feel the anger bubble up within him - the nerve of that guy! With pure, unadulterated fury in his eyes, his gaze swept across the room, looking for him. Kevin looked on, thoroughly puzzled.

“...Eric? Are you okay? You’ve got a weird look on your face.” He asked, concerned. “Eric?”

All anger had just dissipated from his being as his sights finally landed on you. There you were, standing all alone at the fireplace with a drink in your hand while your friend danced. The look on your face was one of loneliness and even from a mile away, anyone could tell you looked extremely awkward at having been left alone while she swayed up against Haknyeon, a guy he recognised from his Medieval History module.

From the corner of his eye, he could see the same dark haired guy he had seen approach you ‘earlier’. Following his gaze, Eric could feel his stomach drop as he realised that they were on you. From his body language, it was clear that he was about to make his way over and take his chances with you.

Just then, a voice at the back of his mind whispered softly.

“What are you waiting for?”

Taking a deep breath, Eric squared his shoulders and hurriedly straightened the jacket he was wearing. This is it. This is actually it. He was going to do it. His legs were moving now, one step after another in large strides towards you. The sound of his heart pounding was practically deafening to his ears and he could feel his legs turning into lead, each footstep heavier than the next. Squeezing past the crowd, another voice - this time insistent and panicky - suddenly cried out.

“No, don’t do this! What if you embarrass yourself and make yourself out to be a fool?”

Eric’s face paled. No, this is a mistake. What was he doing?

“Hello?”

Shaking out of his thoughts, Eric almost jumped back in shock at the sight of you just right in front of him. Before he even realised it, he had made his way over. It is now too late to back out. Had he been standing there like an idiot this whole time?

“I-I… Hey!” He squeaked out, his heart almost leaping out of his chest.

“You’re Eric right? Eric Sohn from Professor Kim’s introduction to accounting class?” You asked kindly.

From the corner of his eye, he could see the guy from ‘earlier’ approaching, pushing past the crowd and judging from his demeanour… It seemed like the competition was still in the game.

He needed to pull this off.

“Yeah, I am. Y/n right? It’s a pretty cool party, isn’t it?”

“Mhm! Pretty great so far! My friend is over there dancing but I’m not much of a party dancer so here I am,” you smiled and Eric almost forgot what he was about to say.

“I-”

“Hey, how are you guys enjoying the party?”

Eric looked up and his brows furrowed into an annoyed and anxious ‘v’. The dark haired competition merely grinned back at him though there was a certain glint in his eyes which made Eric clench his jaw tightly. It was the sort of gaze that was long enough to send a goading message - game on.

He smiled and extended a hand towards you, completely ignoring Eric. “I’m Juyeon, roommate of Jacob’s. I saw you from afar and thought I’d come say hi.”

You shook his hand, oblivious to the tension between the two guys. “I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

Juyeon briefly lifted his gaze to Eric and without anyone’s notice but his, he winked slyly.

“Revolting.” Eric thought angrily.

“I heard they have some really cool peppermint treats at the candy table, wanna come?” Juyeon asked and quickly Eric said, “I heard they have a great log cake at the snack bar though. I’ve heard people raving about it!”

You looked at the both of them, seemingly a little disconcerted. “Uh… I…” Juyeon shot Eric a scathing look which he returned with a smug smile.

“Who doesn’t love a good old log cake?” He asked, to which Juyeon rolled his eyes at.

“I mean… I do love peppermint…” You trailed off and Eric turned to you with wide eyes as big as saucers and Juyeon’s lips lifted into a smug smile.

“Excellent choice! I hear they have so many varieties…” Juyeon chattered on, placing his arm over your shoulder, leaving poor Eric speechless and red faced, watching helplessly as the two of you walked away from him. Turning behind you, you had an apologetic look on your face but said nothing.

“That’s too bad. I was rooting for you, you know?”

Eric swivelled around to find New standing behind him yet again, this time chewing on a piece of toffee. The time on his watch was clear as day as the red, glowing digits stared right back at him - 9:04pm. It had come full circle. He had the chance to turn things around but he had failed. Somehow, the nonchalant look in New’s face irritated him but he tried to remain calm. His gaze drifted down to the bulge in the man’s jacket pocket, tracing the faint outline of the tiny vial that contained the potion from earlier.

“At least we know now that I’m legit, right?” He winked at Eric, smirking as he did though it dropped when he saw the look on the latter’s face.

“Why are you-”

“Please, give me one more chance. Please just let me turn back time this one more time.” He pleaded. Eric was not one to plead but this time, he was feeling particularly desperate.

New looked at him like he had just sprouted an extra head before he burst out laughing.

“How’s that for a turn of the tables, Mr ‘thank you for wasting my time’?” He asked, still giggling. Clearly, he was taking much joy in this new dynamic - something Eric didn’t look too pleased about though he was not about to act on it. After all, it was New’s potion that allowed him this one more chance which he had quite unspectacularly let slip from his grasp.

“Alright, I suppose I could let you try this one more time though I’ll definitely be charging for your next usage.” New sighed, whipping out the vial. “I did want you to succeed after all.”

As Eric gulped down his drink, the familiar feeling of dizziness washed over him yet again, along with the looseness in his limbs and before he knew it, he found himself standing right where he was with you standing where you were previously.

This time, Eric squared his shoulders and ran a hand nervously through his hair. There you were yet again, standing by the fireplace with that drink in your hand.

“No hesitation this time,” he whispered to himself before he made his way over. He barely even paid attention to Juyeon coming in from the side as he struck up a conversation.

“Hey, y/n from professor Kim’s introduction to accounting right?”

You turned to him, looking a little surprised before you smiled warmly at him.

“Yeah! Eric, is it? It’s nice to see you here.”

“How’s things going so far at the party?” He asked, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. His nervousness was getting to him quickly but the thought of messing up yet again reined him back in and his smile stayed on.

You wrinkled your nose as if considering his question before you replied, “Well, it’s going alright so far. I’m not really a party sort of person but I thought I’d make an exception since you know, Jacob’s my friend.”

“I see! I don’t usually mind parties but I do like…” He paused as he saw Juyeon approaching, the gears in his head whirring away and you looked at him curiously.

“Eric…?”

“How about we go get some peppermint? I hear they have a variety here.” He suggested quickly, his eyes darting towards Juyeon’s direction.

You stared at him, looking a little perturbed but then grinned and nodded. “Sure, I love peppermints.”

Before Juyeon could even make his way over, the two of you had walked away, squeezing past the dancing crowd. The bass beat of the music was so resounding throughout the house that it almost seemed as if the walls were vibrating as well. The glitter and lights all around all looked stunning but perhaps a little too stunning as Eric made his way through the crowd with you just right by him. From all sides, people were accidentally bumping into each other and more than once, he almost lost his balance.

As the two of you neared the candy table, Eric realised too late that perhaps pushing past the crowd had been a bad idea and that a smarter way would be to stay out of the dance floor when he felt himself fall forward. Someone’s foot had been there and without looking, he had tripped over and landed with a huge thud on the floor, flat on his belly. His chin collided with the ground and if he had hit it just a little harder, had the impact been just a tad stronger, he might have suffered a serious injury.

Since you were just trailing behind him, his unexpected fall had sent you falling as well. As the both of you crashed against the ground, some members of the crowd audibly gasped as people shuffled out of the way. Though it may have hurt when he fell, Eric’s heart ached much more than the bruise he would no doubt sport on his knees tomorrow. Seeing you sprawled next to him and knowing all of this happened only because of him, he wanted nothing more than to dig a hole right there and then and leap right in.

A few partygoers reached out to help him up and right next to him, Juyeon appeared in front of you, extending a hand with a look of concern. Eric watched as the two of you looked into each other’s eyes and like in a fairytale princess bedtime story, you reached out tentatively to hold onto Juyeon’s hand as his heart fell to the ground with a messy splat.

“Y/n-”

“Are you guys okay?” Juyeon asked though it seemed as if he was only asking you in general.

“Yeah, we’re alright. Thank you.” You said softly, still seemingly a little frazzled.

“Come, let us go get you seated somewhere.”

Eric couldn’t help but simply stand there and look helplessly as the both of you wandered away, his heart feeling like it was about to shatter into pieces. A second chance he was given and he screwed it up and if that wasn’t enough, he was offered yet another shot which went worse than his first. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. Maybe no matter how many times he tried, tonight was just not the night. Or perhaps nothing was ever destined to happen between you two. The jolly christmas music was still playing but he no longer was in the Christmassy spirit anymore.

All he wanted for Christmas was you but it seemed that that didn’t seem so possible anymore, if not impossible.

As the partygoers resumed their dancing, all he could do was plop himself down on the nearby couch and do nothing except nurse not just his fallen pride but also his feelings which never had the chance to express themselves before it got completely shut down.

Grabbing a bottle of ginger ale from a nearby pack, he took a swig and felt the ale burn as it ran down his throat. Usually, he would have loved it but tonight, it just left a bitter taste in his mouth. Keeping his head down, Eric exhaled deeply. He ought to just give up completely.

“Hey, Eric.”

At the sound of your voice, his head snapped up and he gazed up at you with wide eyes. There you were, standing before him and looking down at him as he wallowed in his own feelings. How long have you been standing there? Why were you here?

“Y-y/n?”

You gave him a bashful glance as you sat yourself next to him. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

“I… I… “ He simply stared at you, his mouth gaping like a fish and looking absolutely flummoxed. “Didn’t Juyeon-”

“I couldn’t possibly leave you alone.” You hurried to say and when he didn’t reply, you continued. “Do you… Do you mind if I sit here with you?”

It took Eric a second for it to register in his mind what you had just asked of him before he grew flustered just as the joy in him began to spark.

“Do I mind? No! Of course not! You’re welcomed here! Please, sit with me!”

As he chattered on nervously, you couldn’t help but admire the way his eyes would light up whenever he talked and how charming his smile was. He was in the habit of moving his hands around a lot which though some might find annoying, you only found to be endearing. You could feel your heart beating quickly which always happened whenever you were near him, saw him around class or even just at the mere mention of his name.

As you looked into his eyes, you felt yourself clench on tightly to the couch, the excitement in you simply immeasurable. You couldn’t help but smile as you felt the weight of the vial in your pocket. A worthy bargain indeed from the mysterious pink haired boy.

This was all you wanted for Christmas.

#tbznetwork #deobiblr #kpopscape #deobiwritersnet #kpopficsnetwork #kwritersworldnet #tbz #the boyz #eric sohn #tbz imagines #the boyz imagines #tbz scenarios #the boyz scenarios #eric sohn x reader #the boyz oneshots #tbz oneshots #the boyz eric #tbz eric #eric sohn oneshots #eric sohn imagines #eric sohn fluff #eric sohn scenarios #tbz fluff #the boyz fluff #please let the mf tags work

[gcldenharvey]

“The lower you fall, the higher you’ll fly” - Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

The Basics:

Name: Harvard Hargrove III

Nicknames: Harvey, Harv, Goldie, Veevee

Age: 19

Birthday: March 31st, 1979

Gender: Cis man

Pronouns: He/him/his

Sexuality: Straight

Major: Business

Former school: UCLA

Job: N/A, his dad still completely supports Harvey financially

Faceclaim: Jacob Elordi

Personality Positives: Magnetic, extroverted, athletic

Personality Negative: Wrathful, duplicitous, destructive

About:

YOU'RE THE GUY EVERYONE WANTS TO BE. QUARTERBACK, POPULAR KID. THE FACADE LOOKS PERFECT ON THE OUTSIDE, BUT INSIDE YOU'RE CRUMBLING. YOU'RE GETTING ANGRY AT THE WORLD IN A WAY THAT YOU'VE NEVER BEEN BEFORE. YOU GO OUT LATE AT NIGHT LOOKING FOR FIGHTS; CRAVING THE FEELING OF GETTING YOUR FISTS WET WITH BLOOD, BUT YOU'RE DOING EVERYTHING YOU CAN TO HIDE THAT PART OF YOURSELF FROM EVERYONE AROUND YOU. YOUR FATHER GROWS MORE DISAPPOINTED BY THE MINUTE, AND EVERY SINGLE DAY YOU THINK ABOUT RUNNING AWAY. BUT NOW THAT EVERYONE YOU LOVE IS BACK IN TOWN, HOW ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO LEAVE? YOU AND LUX WERE CHILDHOOD NEIGHBORS. YOU GREW UP MAKING MUD PIES, AND SNEAKING OUT TO PARTIES TOGETHER. LOOKING IN THROUGH HER BEDROOM WINDOW GETS HARDER EVERY SINGLE DAY. YOU KNEW SHE WASN'T PERFECT, BUT YOU WERE OKAY WITH THAT... NOBODY IS PERFECT. BUT SOMETIMES YOU WONDER IF YOU WERE THE ONLY ONE WHO KNEW THAT SIDE OF HER. YOU KIND OF HOPE YOU WERE.

Secrets:

The Small Stuff: At UCLA, Harvey found his way into an underground fight club, which he quickly grew to adore. Rising through the ranks with remarkable speed, Harvey learned that the best way to stop someone looking at you funny is to make sure he can’t see straight. Now, back in Cherry, his entire body itches for a fight he can’t find a release for.

The Big Stuff: YOU WERE ARRESTED FOR AGGRAVATED ASSAULT AT YOUR LAST COLLEGE, AND SHOULD HAVE FACED JAIL TIME. THANKS TO YOUR FATHER'S MONEY, THE PROBLEM WAS HIDDEN IN THE SHADOWS AND YOU WERE ALLOWED TO QUIETLY TRANSFER... BUT YOU KNOW IT CAN'T BE THAT SIMPLE. YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE IN THE GANG WHO WAS PLANNING TO COME BACK TO CHERRY ANYWAY, BUT YOU'RE NOT GOING TO TELL ANYONE. IF EVEN ONE PERSON FOUND OUT ABOUT WHAT YOU AND YOUR FATHER DID, IT WOULD END YOUR CAREER BEFORE IT EVEN STARTED, AND COST YOUR FATHER HIS OWN. AKA, YOU WOULD BOTH BE ROYALLY FUUUUUUUCKED. NOT TO MENTION THE FACT THAT NOBODY WOULD EVER LOOK AT YOU THE SAME.

The Interview:

“HOW DO YOU FEEL NOW THAT EVERYONE IS BACK IN CHERRY?”

The grin that stretched across Harvey’s face was wide and bright and he leaned forward in the chair, that one too-short leg of it rocking forward to hit the ground as Harvey leaned forwards towards Clarissa. Only someone that knew the boy well would have caught the tension running along the sides of his eyes that pulled on the smile, making it appear just a touch brittle. “Oh it’s great,” Harvey said, voice carrying easily through the small room. “This is where we all came from, this is what made us all who we are and now…” Harvey trailed off, swallowing around a lump in his throat. The smile had faded entirely but with effort, Harvey managed to bring it back, though it was a pale shadow of its original form. “With Lux gone, I think we’re going to need each other. Or, well, most of each other. There are some people I could have gone my entire life without seeing again!” A light laugh punctuated that statement, but the creak of wood underneath Harvey’s hands as they gripped the wooden arm of the chair with a white-knuckled tension spoke louder than the laughter.

He consciously relaxed his hand, before bringing it over to smooth down a non-existent wrinkle in his pants. He knew coming here without a drink or three was a bad idea. Harvey didn’t think about the bags that had remained unpacked since he had gotten back to town that now lay scattered along his dorm room like soldiers on a battlefield, quietly saying that tomorrow, surely, he would leave. He didn’t think about the ever-growing hole in the plaster he was hiding in his closet. It had formed when he heard the news, that everyone, everyone minus Lux was back, for better or for worse. The worse, Harvey had reflected in those rare moments of peace that he only ever found in the moments after a punch was thrown, seemed far more likely, given the fucking bullshit of the past few years. No, Harvey didn’t think about any of this, and just smiled at Clarissa instead. “It’s definitely going to be interesting.” And that was the most honest thing he had said thus far.

“WHERE DO YOU SPEND MOST OF YOUR FREE TIME?”

“Well,” Harvey began, leaning towards Clarissa with an expression well-known in town forming across his face. It was the look he got when he was flirting and was supposed to make him look mysterious and yet approachable. Whether or not it actually did that, Harvey had no idea. No one had ever bothered to tell him. It seemed to work often enough for him to believe it had some validity. “If you’re wondering where you might find me for a bit of fun, you can always check the track. I’m usually there in the mornings before class. If that doesn’t work, you can probably find me on the beach, or at the best party in town.” He winked. “I know how to have a good time. If you’re ever looking for one, hit me up.”

That all was true. Harvey wasn’t in the habit of lying to beautiful women, after all. Not if it meant some fun could be had in the future. Lying about everything else? Yeah, sure, that’s fair game, but not that. It just fit too well with the rest of how people expected Harvey to be for him to not take full advantage. Plus, it was fun. But even though it might have been true, that didn’t make it fully honest. Harvey would never tell anyone, though, just how much time he spent in The Pit, or how the sounds of The Garage provided a steady pounding noise that focused Harvey like nothing else as he hung around it hoping to one day ask for a job. But that wasn’t the charming athletic party boy his father had told him to become, or else, and so those places, the places that saw more of Harvey than anywhere else, remained a secret.

“WOULD YOU CALL YOURSELF POPULAR?

It was the first genuine sound Harvey thought he had made during the entire time he had been in that room, and it punctured the air like a pin through a balloon. “I wouldn’t go that far,” Harvey hedged, using his hands to make his point, “I don’t exactly have a huge friend group and there’s a few people in town now that I’m pretty damn sure aren’t my biggest fan.” Harvey shrugged with one shoulder, the hand of the other going up to scratch behind his ear in a nervous gesture he never quite managed to break. “But yeah, I guess, if you wanted to, you could call me that. I was quarterback, you know, and definitely never had problems getting any dates to the dances. If that’s all popularity is, then I guess you could call me a popular kind of guy.”

They never ask what all that costs, Harvey reflected. The thought sent a bolt of fury, bright and true like lightning, straight through his body into his gut. He shifted slightly in the chair which rocked with the movement. Harvey shifted again and it rocked back. He decided not to move again any time soon. The noise of it made that burning in his chest that much stronger and he could feel his jaw clenching with the effort it took to appear unaffected. Not for the first time, Harvey thanked his lucky stars he had as much practice with that as he did. He also cursed them in equal measure, for forcing his shoulders to learn to carry that weight without crumbling. But what was it that Dad always said? ‘No one expects you to change anything, Harvey. All we ask you to do is soldier through to the other side’? Words to live by, apparently. He couldn’t stop the snort that escaped at that thought, but he waved off Clarissa’s curious look. “Sorry. Old joke from the locker room. Nothing you’d want to hear.”

“DO YOU REALLY THINK LUX KILLED HERSELF? ”

“I do.” The words came easily, without thought. Harvey knew he had thought about this a lot, considered it while laying in bed or while driving to the next party. It forced its way into nearly every moment of his life, and though he had done his best to drown it out, Harvey hadn’t managed to yet. “I lived next door to her, right? Our bedrooms were right across from each other and I knew she wasn’t perfect. I think she knew I wasn’t perfect either. But I saw things, overheard things.” He shrugged again, this time with both shoulders. “It wasn’t easy on her and I think she just took the fastest way out she could.” The smile that came across Harvey’s face now was tinged in heartbreak and the weights he felt ties to his shoulders every day. “I kinda get why she did it, too. There’s only so long you can tread water before your arms and legs just give out and you drown.” He shifted backwards and the chair moved with him. “I’ve seen it happen. I’ve had it happen.”

Headcanons:

While Harvey is majoring in business, this is entirely because this is what his father expected of him, and as he’s spent his entire life living up to those expectations, it seemed easier, at the time, to just go along with it. He doesn’t like it though.

That old muscle car Harvey drives is the last thing he has of his mother, who died when he was seven. She willed that car to him and he treats it better than he treats some people. It is his most prized possession.

Harvey knows that in order to leave town like he desperately wants, he needs a job to get his own money. But getting a job would lead to questions from his father, from people around town, everyone. He can’t have that. Harvey has a reputation to maintain after all, and so he feels as if he’s in a form of limbo right now.

Lux and Harvey used to sneak out through their bedroom windows, sometimes helping the other get across the roof or down onto the pavement below. Harvey fondly remembers those times, how it all felt like a secret he was in on that no one else knew about. There was a unity in it, an understanding that they were both running away from something. Now that Harvey wants to leave Cherry for real, he almost feels an obligation to do it for Lux.

The man is heterosexual, almost to a fault. He has absolutely forgotten to attend get-togethers with friends or to finish up homework in favor of a date with a beautiful woman.

His favorite subject in high school, much to the surprise of all that knew him, was English. He really enjoyed discussing the books. Writing the papers, however, was a real drag and his work never really reflected his understanding of the material. This only lead more to the perpetuation of the “dumb jock” stereotype as he talked a lot but got horrible grades. Despite this, he bought a copy of every book they read and kept them.

Harvey’s favorite kinds of movies are action-comedies. His favorite movie is Ghostbusters but he has a secret soft-spot for movies like The Dead Poet’s Society and Sixteen Candles. He would, however, break the nose of anyone that shared this piece of information.

He failed his driver’s test three different times because he kept blowing through red lights.

He is allergic to strawberries. This was discovered back in Kindergarten with a snack that had strawberry jam. It caused his throat to swell up and for him to be sent to the hospital. This was the first time Harvey was at the center of the school’s focus but it wouldn’t be the last. Harvey grew to love the idea of being at the focus of everything and turned to sports to fulfill that desire.

Pinterest

#cusaintro #introduction #✵ musings #✵ inspiration

[motorcitizens]

ive never seen anywhere to watch motorcity with subs? so i went looking and found transcripts of most of the early mc episodes (available in a reply so tumblr doesnt kill the post) but theyre missing a few towards the end. i decided on my fourth rewatch that id transcribe episode 9! whether youre a hard of hearing fan or just want the reference, here you go! let me know if the initials are annoying, ill edit them out.

-I got you with the slash!

-Nuh-uh!

-You first.

-Why me?

-Cuz you're dead anyway.

-There's nothing down here!

-Philip? S- stop fooling around, man. I- I can hear you down there.

-Aah!

[theme]

-The last time I bought anything from you, it took me a week to fumigate the kitchen!

-Okay, the reshcaps were a mistake, you're right about that. But today, I have something extra special...

D- ...then she says, 'that's why I can't eat the sandwich!'

[all laugh]

C- Wait, wait, I got one. Where does a snowman keep his money? In a snow bank! Eh? Get it? Come on, it's funny!

Th- We're searching for the Vanquisher, king of the realm?

T- Oh. I think they're talking about me.

M- Yeah, I have no idea who you're-

Th- There he is!

Burners- Chuck?!

T- [laughter]

R- Hey! You dare insult Lord Vanquisher? I should take your tongue and feed it to the birds.

T- Uh, you can't do that. I need my tongue.

C- Release him, Darkslayer.

R- ... Fortune smiles upon you today.

M- So, Chuck, you wanna introduce us to your... friends?

C- Guys, allow me to present: Thurman the Magnificent, and Ruby the Darkslayer!

Th: We are knights of the kingdom of Raymanthia.

C- It's called LARPing! [...] Live action role-playing? [...] Okay, I have a life outside of the Burners, you know!

D- Sure doesn't look like it.

T- Oh! I get it! Ahahaha!

Th- My Lord, a situation has arisen. The oracle awaits.

O- As you requested, Sam and Phillip were dispatched on a scouting mission early this morning. But we have not heard from them for many hours.

M- What do you mean you haven't heard from them?

O- I fear, Lord Vanquisher, they have gotten lost on the outskirts of the realm.

T- Texas is confused. Okay, now is this part of your little game or is this real?

D- We're standing behind some dude's van who calls himself the oracle. What do you think?

O- I demand silence!

J- I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm with Texas on this one.

O- Chuck! Make em stop.

C- Wait. Is this part of the game?

Th- No. Sam and Philip are really missing.

M- So, this is for real?

O- We need your help.

C- I vow to find our wayward kinsmen.

C- Guys, this is LARPing!

T- Woah. That's it?

C- Each weekend, teams battle for control of the realm. The rules are simple: First, once you step onto the field of battle, you must remain in character. Second, if you must be vanquished: do so with honor. It's neat, ain't it?!

J- The game's already started?

R- If by 'game' you mean a ferocious battle to the death for the crown of Raymanthia, then yes.

O- But we can't win unless we find our friends.

[at the same time]

C- I say we split up.

M- Let's split up.

M- No disrespect! Chuck- uh, I mean, Lord Chuck. What do you think we should do?

C- Ahem! If we split up, we'll cover more ground!

O/Th/R- As you say, Lord Vanquisher.

C- Okay guys. We'll check the warehouse near the old Renaissance center, you guys check the battlefield.

Th- I dunno where that is. Can somebody else drive?

M- So, King Chuck. How'd you win your crown?

O- It happened many weekends ago... Chuck stood as freedom's last hope against Mad Dog the Conqueror. If he were to fall, darkness would reign for yet another long weekend. Mad Dog summoned his dragon to finish off the Vanquisher once and for all, but fate had different plans. It was totally awesome!

C- Naw, it wasn't... that awesome.

D- Little dudes!

J- Sam! Phillip?

D- Where are you?

Guy- Huzzah!

R- Leave this to me!

Guy- The bards shall sing of this day... the day the Darkslayer fell!

R- Someone shall fall on this day... but it shall not be me.

[fighting noises]

Guy- Aha! Tsk, tsk. You've lost your sword!

T- hyah!

R- What are you doing! I had him right where I wanted him!

Guy- You're not playing by the rules.

T- These are Texas rules! [karate noises] Now. We need you to answer some questions.

D- We're looking for two missing kids, Sam and Phillip. Have you seen them?

Guy- I'd rather die a thousand deaths than help the likes of you.

J- Ahem! Forgive us, my liege, but we are but humble squires in search of our kinsmen. Can you help us?

Guy- I've never been one to refuse a lady, certainly not one as ravishing as you. Saw your kinsmen five hours ago, approaching the Dungeon of Anguish.

D- Neat trick.

Th- We're never gonna find them in time. Then the stupid Bardonians are gonna win, think they're all cool with their fancy mustaches.

C- Hey. Buck up there, camper! People said we'd never win the Battle Royale last Fall, but we did. Our friends are out there, and we'll find em! We just gotta keep-

M- Uh, sorry. Dutch just called. Your friends were seen someplace called the Dungeon Anguish?

Th- It's actually the Dungeon of Anguish.

C- It's, uh. Well, it's actually just in the basement right here.

C- Wah, ah! Get it off me, get it off me!

Th- This isn't part of the game!

M- Yeah, well, neither is this!

R- That was. Incredible!

D- What were those things?

M- Don't know. But I'm betting they have something to do with our missing friends. We have to move. [LARPers kneel] Uh, come on. Get up, guys, we don't have time for this.

O- From this day forth, you shall be known as "Mike, the Smiling Dragon."

Th- You just got a great name. Jealous!

C- For saving my life on the field of battle, I owe you a debt of life.

M- That's... really not necessary.

O- Actually, it's totally necessary. The king of the realm cannot rule while carrying a debt of life.

C- As such, I give the crown to the Smiling Dragon!

M- No. No, Please, look, I can't, I just- I was-

C- Mikey, you gotta!

J- Hey guys, check this out! I've never seen that symbol before.

D- That's really old.

M- Way before my time. Maybe Jacob can help.

Th- What if those... things have Sam and Phillip?

R- Never fear. We have the Smiling Dragon. As long as he's our king, we can't lose. Did you see his moves? They were just so- so-!

M- You okay, buddy? Look, if it's about what happened back there, I'm sorry man. I was just trying to help.

C- It's not that. It's just-

M- Just what?

C- Look, I tripped, okay?

M- Um... If that's some kind of LARPer slang, I have no idea what it means.

C- The story you heard. About how I earned my crown? That's not how it really... went down. It was my first real battle. I'd never held a real lance before. I was still getting my balance when Lord Mad Dog summoned his dragon... I ran forward but... I tripped. The lance fell and hit him by accident! I won my crown with a lie. Hey... it's better that you're king now. I was never fit for the post. I've been king for 48 consecutive weekends, and-

M- 48? Woah, you do play this game a lot.

C- Yeah, but... it took less than an hour of LARPing with you for the others to see me for what I truly am... a follower.

M- Hey, a follower couldn't have led his team to 48 consecutive victories. You can't fake that!

C- Mikey... Look, I appreciate your support but we both know I'm no leader. Not when I'm a Burner and not even when I'm here, playing make believe.

M- Here. Take the pin back.

C- You can't just give it to me! The only way I can get it back is to earn it by saving your life. And let's be honest. That ain't gonna happen.

Th- Never seen that tunnel before. You aren't planning on taking us down there, are you?

R- Well I'm going in!

Th- Do you know how much trouble I'll get in if my mom finds out I went down some crazy dark tunnel looking for killer robots?!

O- He's not joking. His mom is terrifying.

M- They're right. This isn't a game anymore. Texas will stay up here and keep you safe while we go get your friends.

T- What! Wait, why me?

M- Because you're the bravest warrior we've got.

T- Yeah, that's true, but come on! Don't leave me with the nerds!

D- What is this place?

O- Booyah! Mutant wolverine. I win!

Th- I could show you how to use that.

T- Save it. Not interested.

O- Why not? You're really good.

T- You really think so?

Th- Here, watch.

T- Hyah! Huh?

T- Mike, Julie! Incoming! We got trouble!

Th- Come on, I just got this!

O- Your mom is gonna be so mad.

J- This isn't working!

M- I'm open to suggestions!

R- A wizard!

Ja- Applesauce!

J- Jacob?

R- Aww!

Bot- The creator has returned!

M- Uh, Jacob? Care to fill us in?

Ja- It started back when Kane and I were partners- before there even was a Deluxe! I was designing our first ever Utility Bot. Its purpose was to make life in Detroit easier and safer. I equipped it with a new AI that would allow the bot to anticipate human commands, but I was the only one the bot seemed to listen to. But if it were ever to escape the lab, there's no telling the danger it could pose. I begged Kane to shut the program down! I always thought he did.

Bot: It began soon after you left us. Kane retrained us! We were instructed to capture enemies of the public and bring them back to Kane's new creation, an Interrogator. But the humans could not control it. Kane sealed the lab. Our new master told us every human was out to destroy us. As such, every human became our enemy. Disloyalty was severely punished. So we waited, until this door finally opened.

M- Our friends went missing this morning. Have you seen them?

Bot- Of course. We took them per our master's instructions.

J- We need to get them back!

[roar]

Bot- Our master has awoken. If he discovers you here with us, he will destroy us.

M- Get the LARPers out of here!

C- I'm not leaving you guys!

R- Our place is here, with our King!

M- This isn't a game! Get your friends to safety.

C- Let's move!

D- Come on!

J- Look out!

[rubble collapses the door]

T- Mike!

D- Julie!

Both- Jacob!

D- We'll never move this stuff by ourselves!

T- Says who?

Th- What do we do?

C- I know a way to get through there! But I will require your van.

Ja- There used to be another exit!

J- Hey, look at this!

M- The kids have to be in one of those rooms. If we can find a way past that thing we can rescue them and get the heck out of here! Think you can buy us some time?

J- Do you even have to ask? Hey, ugly! Over here!

M- Sam! Phillip! Climb up here!

S- You're the new king of the realm?

M- You bet your butt I am. Lord Smiling Dragon, at your service. Now get up that rope, squire!

T- Okay, I admit. It's pretty cool.

C- But is it possible?

D- Sure. But there's no way the three of us can build it fast enough.

C- What if they helped?

D- I know you don't mean the little lunatics that just tried to kill us!

Bot- We cannot get involved. If our master were to find out-

C- He's not your master! You are in Raymanthia. And in Raymanthia, every man- or... freaky little Utiliton- is free! Free to stand up for yourselves. Free to fight back! And free to live! Our friends are down there, and I swear to you on the steel of my blade that even if I have to slay the beast itself, we! will! bring them back!

[utilitons cheering]

T- hwah! Nah, see, this ain't nerdy. This is a level 25 battle ax, okay? Twenty five. Think about it.

Ja- Maybe there wasn't another exit?

M- Stay here!

M- Way to go, Chuck!

S&P- The Vanquisher!

T- Make way for Texas!

C- The beast is absorbing the blasts!

[mike gets got]

C- Mike!

C- Drive! and when I say stop, stop fast! ...STOP!

M- Ha, oh yeah!

M- For saving my life on the field of battle, I owe you my life. My steel is yours to command, since a king cannot carry... I forget how the rest of it goes, here! All hail King Chuck, the Vanquisher!

R- This was the coolest game ever!

M- ... the game. Your win streak. You guys have to go defend your crown!

Th- We'll never be able to muster an attack in time.

T- What if we help.

M- We're yours to command, Lord Vanquisher.

C- For the glory of the realm!

[all yell]

#motorcity #i meant to just. have this but i figured i might as well post it #chuck (motorcity) #mike chilton #julie kane #dutch gordy #texas (motorcity) #mne

[autisticalbert]

national rock day

part one of the ralbert the office au! i wrote this a few days ago and part two is already sitting on my drafts waiting to be posted, but i wanted to post this au here as well as in ao3 because Why Not.

featuring: non-binary albert! because tumblr doesn’t have any enby albert and i’m pushing this agenda.

read in ao3

There were one or two things Race could name off the top of his head that made American Textiles an unbearable workplace.

It wasn’t that he hated fabrics—that was a rather unreasonable thing to hate, and even though working where he worked had made buying new clothes a particularly annoying part of his life, what he sold wasn’t as paining as where and how.

Race knew—had always known—that an office job wasn’t his thing. It hadn’t been when he started as an intern and it didn’t became any more pleasing when he got his first official paycheck as a textile distributor salesman. It was a little bit depressing, too.

He didn’t like to think about wasted potential. It really was easier to live in oblivion of it all.

Maybe, the only truly good thing about American Textiles was Albert. And Race caught himself thinking about that very often.

Albert DaSilva was and had been for as long as Race could remember the receptionist and secretary at the New York branch of American Textiles. They were the funniest person Race knew and they weren’t happy with their job either—no one would be, having to work for Jack Kelly so directly—so they had bonded over exactly that: despising their lives as subordinates and pranking their coworkers to get through the day.

It worked. They laughed at the same things, they knew each other like best friends do.

In fact, to Race, falling in love with Albert was only a minor side effect. A bump in the road, a distraction. Or so it had been when he first saw them. Now, three years later, he had to rethink his strategy. Especially when the person in question was engaged.

A rock landed on his desk.

“What—“ He looked up. Albert, at their desk, perked an eyebrow and shrugged.

Needless to be prompted, Jack Kelly popped up into his field of vision a second later. Race didn’t know how bad it would be until he saw the look on his face.

“It’s rock day,” the man said, holding back a laugh.

He tried too hard. That was one of the two things everyone who worked for Jack Kelly knew. The other one was that he had the sense of humor of a five-year-old.

“It’s been a year?” Asked Race, contemplating the rock that rested on his desk.

January 7th was Rock Day. No one knew or cared, but Jack did. He had a fascination for fun holidays that Race couldn’t get around.

“Yes it has, Tony-Tones,” he said, clapping. No one seemed to pay him much attention until he cleared his throat. “Attention, everyone. No one has come into my office to wish me a happy rock day, but I wish it to you all. Even if you’re inconsiderate to your boss,” he stated before laughing at his own so-called joke.

Race took a long breath in and out. He looked at Albert, who was looking back, and shrugged in resignation.

Next to him, someone stood up like a lighting bolt. And there it was—the missing part of their morning routine.

“Happy rock day, Jack,” exclaimed American Textiles’ most recent acquisition of an intern, Lester Jacobs. He was sixteen years old and already both as tall and more talented at shoving fabric down people’s throats than Race had ever been in his whole career.

He rolled his eyes and caught Albert laughing at him quietly.

“Thank you, Les,” nodded the man before turning on his heels and heading back into his office.

It was ten thirty in the morning, which meant only one thing. Race could either do something or start to go crazy slowly and painfully. He saw his boss walk away as Les took a seat in the desk next to his and immediately turned to Albert with plead in his eyes.

Albert nodded.

“I’m going insane,” he said, shutting the kitchen door behind him as Albert sat on the counter, shook their and laughed.

“This is the earliest you’ve cracked,” they said. “But he deserves it, so I support you.”

“Thanks for your approval,” he mocked. Albert stuck their tongue out. “Problem is, I’m out of ideas.”

A gasp. “The Antonio Higgins doesn’t have any pranks left?”

Race bit his lip not to smile. He feigned annoyance. “Dry as a bone. Help,” he begged.

Albert thought for a second, humming with their lips pursed. Their legs bounced slightly against the wooden counter cabinets. After a minute, they shrugged again. They did it quite often, Race noted.

“How mean do you want it to be?”

“It’s not mean, just—“

“Tony,” Albert looked at them.

Race lifted his hands. “Alright, um—Just regular dose of mean-ness.”

A beat. “First, that’s not a word, and second...”

They smiled. Race smiled back.

Les deserved it, for the most part. He was well aware of his status as a prodigy salesman and at the naive age of sixteen he had decided that it was worth being smug about. He was proud of himself and his severely underpaid job, as much as he was a suck-up to Jack, to Corporate, and to anyone but Race. The hatred was mutual. So Les deserved most of what he got, and what he didn’t deserve, Race knew he’d find a way to earn sooner or later.

The way down to the warehouse was one that Race knew well from his many times escaping his responsibilities. Or Jack.

“Hey, babe,” Albert smiled as they curled both arms around the neck of their fiancé. Race didn’t know where to look while they kissed.

Oscar Delancey was both Albert’s soon-to-be husband and the head of the warehouse. He was a nice man. He was funny, or so Albert mentioned every now and then. To Race, Oscar was… tall. He was one tall man.

“What’re you doing down here?” Asked Oscar once the kiss was broken.

“We need tools,” Albert said. Race nodded, standing at a safe distance. “Vending machine tools.”

“What?”

Albert smiled an innocent smile. “We just want to study our vending machine—“

“See how it works—“ Added Race.

“Yeah, exactly,” Albert nodded. “So, can we borrow some of those?”

Oscar squinted, looking between Albert and Race, and nodded cautiously. “Sure.”

At that, Albert grinned and kissed their fiancé’s cheek before untangling themself from him. Oscar was turning towards his toolbox when he spoke again, over his shoulder.

He didn’t have the smartest mouth.

“Be careful, though. Not marrying a jobless person.”

Albert faltered slightly. Race caught them quickly pulling themself up and shrugging in a dismissive way, taking the toolbox and glancing at him before turning to make their way back.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re marrying me, anyway,” they said when they were out of earshot.

Race knew better than to bring it up, after years. And it really had been years—he was barely finishing his first year as a salesman when Oscar proposed to Albert as they were making their way out and into their cars. He’d been there to see the whole thing.

Two years had passed.

It wasn’t worth any mention, because Race knew it was out of line to offer support about something he didn’t know anything about. Besides, Albert was very good at pretending to be fine.

They could either dwell on the uncomfortable silence that had fell upon them or laugh it off.

“This is one of your best ideas,” Race said.

“Well,” Albert said, carefully working themself around the screws of the vending machine in the break room. “We’ll have to wait and see. But, yeah, I’m a genius.”

Race had an arm inside the machine when someone walked in. Albert stood up just too fast to play it cool.

Charlie Morris frowned at the sight.

“What’s going on?” She asked. Albert shrugged, waving their arms around mindlessly.

“Nothing—much,” they said. Race removed himself from the insides of the vending machine and nodded.

“Monthly inspection,” he said casually.

“Isn’t a guy supposed to come in and do that?”

Race crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m a guy,” he defended. Charlie perked an eyebrow.

“Okay,” she said, turning around and walking away slowly.

Only when she was completely out of the room did they both exhale at unison. Albert ran a hand through their hair and Race laughed.

“She almost caught us,” he said.

Albert waved him off, handing him the last crucial piece of their procedure. “It’s Charlie. What’s she gonna do? Tell Jack? Tell Les?”

“Well,” Race said. “Yeah.”

He slid away from the machine and up to Albert’s side. They looked at their done masterpiece and then at each other, spark of pride in their eyes. Then, exactly ten minutes before their lunch break, they went back to work.

Les came back from a sale to find his desk deserted. He then followed the sound of Charlie Morris’ laughter into the break room, where she was shaking her head at the view.

The boy had the option to come out fuming or pouting. It was funnier when he did both.

“Jack,” he cried out as he walked out of the room and into the manager’s office. “They put my stuff in the vending machine!”

“What?”

“My things. They’re inside the vending machine.”

“That’s hilarious.”

Les turned to Race. “How am I gonna get them back?”

He looked at him and shrugged. “You gotta pay, little one.”

As he scrambled for his wallet in frustration and stormed off, Race and Albert looked at each other from their desks and motioned a high-five.

It was a good day.

#newsies #the office au #ralbert #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #ENBY ALBERT #crutchie morris #oscar delancey #jack kelly #les jacobs

[calzonafan2014]

There’s No Remedy for Love...

Emmerdale, Charity x Vanessa, 

Vanity Fic

Rating M

Charity and Vanessa have been happily married for several years when Charity’s attempt to save Debbie results in her making the biggest mistake of her life. Is this fixable? Well, as Oscar Wilde once wrote, “There is no remedy for love, except to love more.”

“There are a hundred paths through the world that are easier than loving. But who wants easier?” Mary OliverTitle: There’s No Remedy For Love

The Night After the Day Before

Charity pounded on her front door, begging her wife to let her just explain. Vanessa ignored her, but Charity didn’t let up. Tracy shouted through the door for her to go away already to no effect.

Vanessa finally had enough. She got up from the couch and threw open the door, firmly blocking Charity from entering, and glared up at her wife.

Charity stood there, mascara streaked face, coatless and shivering, a complete wreck, “I’m sorry. Ness, I’m so sorry. But I swear Babe, there was no other choice. It was to protect Debbie, that’s all it was. It made me literally sick after.”

“Funny that,” Vanessa replied sarcastically, “because you’re the one making me sick right now. Go away.” Vanessa shut the door firmly and Charity broke down, sobbing in front of her own door.

———————

A week later Debbie swung by Jacob’s Fold after the worst fight she’d ever had with her mum. In all of their years, through everything they’d been through, she’d never once truly imagined her mum giving up on her. But now she was scared.

Vanessa opened the door and let her in, but her eyes were shuttered and Debbie felt the chill.

“Mum loves you,” Debbie finally blurted, seeing as Vanessa had no intention of speaking or easing the tension. “I know what she did was messed up, but it was my fault,” she admitted.

Debbie waited for Vanessa to jump in and let her off the hook, but Vanessa was quiet, and Debbie’s fear amped up another notch, “It’s been a week. You’ve gotta at least talk to her,” she begged.

“Do I?” Vanessa asked with a raised brow.  

“I don’t think she’s ever going to forgive me if you don’t forgive her,” Debbie confessed.

Vanessa set her jaw. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you guilted her into helping you.”

Debbie shrugged helplessly, “Yeah, well, I’m her daughter okay. Hers and Cain’s. And there’s never been a Vanessa in my life. What’d you expect?”

“You’re 35. Maybe it’s past time you stopped running to mummy and daddy to clean up your messes.”

Debbie stiffened. She’d experienced Vanessa’s temper a few times, but never truly directed at her. She realized there was nothing she could do here, not for now at least, nodded and let herself out.

———————

“I want to go see Mum C,” Johnny demanded after another week had gone by without any change.

Vanessa’s heart cracked a tiny bit, but she nodded. “Course you do. And I’ll see to it, okay?”

“When?” Johnny asked, impatient.

“Soon.” Vanessa said.

“Promise?”

“Promise. She’s your Mum. She’ll want to see you too.”

———————

Vanessa recruited Sarah as her go-between with Johnny and Charity. She wasn’t ready to talk to her wife just yet. She hated dragging Sarah into it, but she refused to speak further to Debbie, and Tracy wasn’t talking to Charity at all as far as she knew. She was full-on Team Vanessa. Anyway, Sarah wasn’t a child. She was nineteen now and wise beyond her years.

As expected, Sarah came through, arranging things with her Granny and swinging by Jacob’s Fold to pick up Johnny.

“Hey, you ready to go see Mum?” Vanessa asked her son, and Johnny nodded.

“Well good. Run upstairs and grab the bag I packed for you okay?”

Johnny eagerly did, leaving Sarah and Vanessa alone for a bit.

“I love you,” Sarah tossed out, “You’re my Granny now, whether you wanna be or not.”

Vanessa smiled, “I would hope so. Least I get for taking on that title way too young is keeping you forever.”

Vanessa caught the flash of darkness that skittered behind Sarah’s eyes at the mention of forever, but resolutely ignored it for both their sakes.

Johnny ran downstairs carrying a giant bag.

“I thought I’d packed the smaller one?”

“It didn’t fit my game system. And Mum isn’t great with the laundry.”

Laundry. Clearly Johnny was planning to stay with Charity for longer than a couple of days. But Vanessa just sucked it up. He loved both his Mums. She knew that. It’s what she had wanted for him after all.

“Right then, go put it into Sarah’s car why don’t you.” Johnny nodded and lugged his bag outside, while Sarah stopped in the doorway.

“Do you still love her?” Sarah asked, terrified of the answer.

“I’ll never stop,” Vanessa replied firmly.

Sarah sighed, relieved, but still sad. “It’s hard, seeing you two apart and all. I get it. It’s just. If you two can’t figure it out where’s the hope for the rest of us?”

“You’re still young. And you are going to find someone spectacular someday. And then you can be the example for the rest of us.”

Sarah met Vanessa’s eyes, “You and Granny have always been my example.”

Vanessa felt that one long after Sarah had gone.

———————

It was going on five, and Charity stood outside the vets, waiting impatiently for her wife to leave for the day. It had been 37 days since Charity had blown up her entire life. She’d given Vanessa time. Much more than she’d wanted to. If it’d been up to her she’d have camped outside their home until Vanessa let her in or she froze. But Rhona of all people had been the one to talk her out of it.

She recalled the conversation perfectly, sat at the kitchen table in the back of the pub, Chas nodding along.

“You’ll drive her further away if you do that,” Rhona had argued. “She’ll think it’s all about you, and that you don’t care about her feelings.”

Charity had fought back, “The point is to show her how much I do care!”

“You’ll best do that by respecting her wishes.”

So Charity had. For weeks and weeks. But enough was enough. She’d given her time, but they were a family. They needed to talk at the least.

She knew better though than to go round their house with Johnny and Moses both desperate to have them back together. So this was what it had come to. A stakeout outside her wife’s work.

The second she saw her wife her heart skipped, and her name froze on her lips. She quickly cleared her throat.

“Ness.”

Vanessa froze. Her own heart feeling squeezed in a vise. She hadn’t heard Charity’s voice in weeks. Avoided her voicemails, never went round the pub.

Charity approached cautiously, arms spread wide, “Ness please. Talk to me. Just for a bit.”

Vanessa refused to look at her, and the approaching darkness made it easier, “What’s there to say?”

“I love you.”

Vanessa stood rooted, still not daring to look at her wife, “I know you do,” She replied evenly.

Charity stepped closer, directly in front of Vanessa now, forcing her to look at her despite her best intentions.

“I should have found another way, I know that. You’re the most important thing in the world to me. Us, what we have. It’s everything. I didn’t mean for it...”

“What did you think would happen?!”

“I thought I could control him better. I didn’t plan...”

“Why didn’t you come to me?! Ask me for help?! We could have...”

“Debbie was desperate, Babe. I’ve seen her in some bad spots over the years, but not like this.  I didn’t have time to think.”

“You had time to call Cain,” Vanessa said bitterly, but Charity didn’t understand.

“Because he’s her Dad. And he knows how to deal with men with guns!”

“And using you as the distraction was his brilliant solution!” Vanessa shouted back.

Charity shrugged, “It’s what I’m best at.”

Vanessa shook her head even as her heart broke further. God damn, she hated everyone right now, but Cain and Debbie were tops of her list. No matter where they ended up, Vanessa loved her wife. Deeply and irrevocably. And she despised how her family never seemed to see how much more she was and always had been.  

In spite of herself Vanessa stepped closer and reached up to wipe away the tears that had slid down Charity’s cheeks. For once her wife held perfectly still, no attempt to take advantage of the moment, eyes wide and vulnerable, leaving it to Vanessa to choose where this suddenly charged closeness led.

Vanessa closed the distance, kissing her wife softly at first, and then deeper for a hot second before she pulled away just as Charity tried to tug her closer. Charity let go and Vanessa stumbled back.

“You’re so much more, Charity. I just wish you could really believe that.”

Read the Rest on AOC

#charity x vanessa #angst #Did not plan to post this #Please let me know if you like or if you hate or if you cry #Writing it made me a bit sad

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Wonderwall Chapter 6

Keanu Reeves x reader  (A/n- Jfc, I’m a flake. SO it seems I’ve mis-planned/judged again, so I'mma have to extend it. For the absolute last time. Anyway, Chapter 7 is going to be the last chapter and then we’ll have an Epilogue. Also, chapters 5-7 happen between September-December of the same year. Also, it’s long and filled with drama so buckle up. That’s it, I’m going now, hope you enjoy.) 

Warning- Mentions and descriptions of domestic violence and general violence. (I really contemplated posting this because I was worried about the reception, knowing that it contained such sensitive themes, so let me know if you can. Thanks.)

“I said maybe, you’re gonna be the one that saves me?”- Oasis.

November- Saturday

Who the hell turned the sun on? It’s very bright as I prop myself on my elbows to turn to the alarm on my nightstand. It’s just past nine on…..Saturday, according to my phone. In addition to the basics, there are a slew of texts from Y/n among others. I open hers first, I always open hers first. ‘Hey! How’d the date go?’

The date? The date! For the first time since I’ve opened my eyes, I look around the room, just noticing that beneath the sheets, I’m completely naked. Then at my side I see her. Sienna? Serena? Something like that, we had way too much wine. She’s nice though, funny, smart, she’s an accountant at a bank in the city. Pretty too, all long legs, swimmer’s body with long blonde hair and bangs falling just above crystal green eyes. Though, while she’s gorgeous, she’s no Y/n. And, that’s why we had that much wine. 

As I move to get out of bed, Serena……? The young lady, stirs and rouses awake, “Hi,” she greets quietly with a sleepy smile. Taking her bottom lip between her teeth, she brings the sheets up to cover up to her neck. It’s funny, I think she’s cute and for the slightest second, Y/n isn’t the forefront of my mind. I should get to know this woman before deciding that it won’t work out. We obviously slept together, so I owe her that much. Besides, Y/n is getting married next month, it’s not like I have a chance with her anyway.

“Hey, Sienna,” I test, smiling awkwardly as I clumsily and very hurriedly pull on a pair of sweat pants that has been on the ottoman at the foot of the bed for who knows how long.

“Samantha,” she corrects giggling. Fuck, I was way off. Still, she’s laughing so that must be good. It’s better than being offended. I apologize quickly but she uses a long fingered hand to wave me off, “It’s fine, we were drinking so much, I can’t blame you. Hell, if I hadn’t been crushing on you since I was fifteen, I might have forgotten your name too,” Samantha scoffs and then blushes, throwing her face into her hands, “Did I just say that?” She groans, “That’s weird. That whole thing was weird. And now I just embarrassed myself in Keanu Reeves’ bed. I’m such a dork.”

I chuckle quietly, plopping onto the bed, near her legs. Do I like her? I think so. “It’s okay,” I rub her knee reassuringly, and when she finally looks up at me with bright eyes I have to shake myself out of holding her gaze to ask; “Coffee?”

“Sure,” she blushes again and takes my hand and the clean t-shirt that I offer her.

November- 2 Weeks Later

I sit cross legged on the floor of my place in Los Angeles and before me, there are several papers scattered about. Some are pictures of sample decorations, there are a couple of catering menus, templates for the cake and place card samples. I’ve retreated to L.A with the excuse of needing to be alone to make last minute decisions, but really, I just wanted to get away from him. Away from the fighting, the angry shouts and everything else.

Though, for the most part I’ve taken it upon myself to do most of our wedding planning on my own, Jacob has been growing more impatient, more angry than he usually is. The proof of that being a couple nights ago, the night I’ve been trying to forget.

As I continue sifting through little details, there’s a knocking on the door and instead of going to answer it, I yell, “It’s open!” I already know who it is anyway.

The soft, calming thud of boots hit the hardwood floor as Keanu draws closer to the living room. He enters through the arched doorway, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, his jacket missing, probably discarded somewhere in the apartment. It feels so natural to see him walking around here, comfortable and ease with me. Soon Keanu is sinking down next to me, “Hey,” he greets, pulling me into a side hug.

“Hi,” I smile, returning his embrace. “Now,” I hold out two sample cards, “Am I going to go with baby’s breath or lavender to compliment the bouquet?” 

Keanu looks at them for a minute, his face contorting with amusement and that’s how I know he’s not going to give me a helpful answer. Arguably though, he’s been more helpful than Jacob. “I think,” he begins dramatically, “That they’ll both die in the snow.” His face maintains some semblance of seriousness before he bursts out in a fit of quiet laughter.

As hard as I try, I can’t be annoyed and I roll my eyes and ensure that the sarcasm is evident when I say, “Wow, thank you so much Ke, This information has really helped me, you should be a wedding planner with these tips.”

In good natured fun, Keanu squeezes my shoulders, “You’re welcome.” He smiles, looking all smug and proud. “You know what I think you need?”

“What?” I ask curiously, knowing that it probably has nothing to do with the impending wedding.

“Dinner. And booze.” Suddenly, Keanu stands, holding his hand out for me to take, “Come one, lets go for a ride.”

Chuckling, I take his hand, letting him pull me off the ground, “And where do you suggest we find this food and alcohol?” I question as I shrug on a leather jacket over an old band tee. I put on a pair of ankle boots as Keanu flips through his phone presumably looking for a place that we’ll both like.

“Sunset?” He asks and I nod in agreement.

Before long, Keanu has fitted me with a helmet and now I’m holding on to him as we speed down the streets of Los Angeles. The only thing I can hear is the breeze as we zip between the traffic. Everything seems to blur but the speed isn’t frightening, it’s thrilling. I haven’t got the slightest clue about motorbikes, but I always thought they were dangerous. Up until the day I rode one with Keanu.. Something about holding onto him for dear life, feeling his warmth against my palms, knowing that he’d never let me get hurt, its freeing, exhilarating.

By the time we get to the restaurant, the sun is just beginning to set and Keanu leads me, with his palm high on my back, towards the establishment. As we draw closer, it’s easy to see that there is already a a crowd of paparazzi gathered, snapping the photos and calling our names. I’ll never understand how they find us, or really, anyone so quickly. 

The walk is short but the flashing lights and barrage of questions makes it seem way longer. Next to me, I can feel Keanu tense up as they continue to call out, asking a slew of inappropriate questions, ‘Are you two on a date?’ ‘Where’s her fiancée?’  ‘Keanu, don’t you have a new girlfriend?’ ‘Are cheating on her?‘ ‘Y/n are you cheating on Jacob?’ ‘How long have you two been together?’ 

He hates when they do this, especially when he’s just trying to do otherwise mundane things. Worrying on my bottom lip, I snake an arm around Keanu, rubbing his shoulder blade through his jacket. And as we walk through the glass doors, approaching the hostess, I quietly ask; “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he smiles tightly but still visibly relaxes, “I know you’re always saying to ignore them, but I honestly don’t know how you do it.”

I shrug uneventfully, “It’s easy cause in my head they don’t matter. It’s just noise.” And it’s easier to focus on you. I don’t say the last part, because frankly, it would sound strange, especially while I’m engaged to someone else.

The hostess leads us to a cozy corner booth and as we sit, Keanu looks far more relaxed than before. We look over the menus, contemplating our orders and I ask, “How are things going with Samantha?” Since they’ve started dating, Keanu only speaks highly of her and admittedly, where she’s concerned, I can’t help but occasionally feel a pang of irrational jealously, but as long as he’s happy, then I can tell myself that it’s okay.

“They‘re going great actually. We went to a movie a couple night ago and I’m seeing her again this Friday.” Keanu looks down hesitantly at his drink, as if he has something important to say. “I’ve been thinking of asking her to go to Colorado with me. If that’s okay with you,” he stammers, “It is your wedding after all. And you could meet her first if you want. I’d really like to meet her, you’ll love her.”

It kind of sounds like he loves her. Its only been two weeks and it’s already starting to sound like she’s his girlfriend. If she hurts him, I’ll break her face. ‘Like you hurt him?’ I ask myself. God, I am jealous. Still, I play pretend for a living and I’m able to easily conjure up a winning smile as I respond, “I’d like that. And for what it’s worth, you should ask her. It sounds like you really like her.” Keanu blushes and I take a large swing of my drink, hoping to bury the stabbing pain in my chest.

“I might,” he ends. The food arrives a while later and conversation continues easily over dinner and wine. That is, until he notices something I was hoping he wouldn’t. “What’s this?” Keanu asks, reaching over to let his fingers graze a fading bruise near my temple.

“What?” I feign ignorance, suddenly self-conscious. I should have worn make-up

“Y/n,” he frowns, “There’s a huge bruise on your face.”

“It’s not that big,” it really isn’t, barely dime sized. “I fell…and, um, hit my face.”

“Where?” He squints, daring me to lie to him.

And lie I do. “New York. At my apartment, slipped in the kitchen.”

Keanu scoffs my name again in disbelief. He knows that if it were that simple, I would have told him already. He knows me. Too well, enough to figure out that it’s a sensitive topic. As he continues to stare at me, I try to avert my gaze to literally anything else. Beneath the table, my leg bounces nervously and I shift food around my plate with a fork. Suddenly, Keanu’s eyes widen and he slaps the table, making me, along with small pieces of cutlery jump, “He hit you, didn’t he?”

“What?” I squeal, “I never said that! Keanu, don’t be ridiculous! That’s insane.”

“Yeah, it is,” he sighs, “But you aren’t telling me the truth. You’re apart, a month before your wedding and you’ve said that he’s short tempered, that he’s made threats,” He remembers that? I told him that once, over the phone, almost a year ago. Just tell me the truth,” he pleads.

Releasing a shaking breath, I try to steady myself as Keanu reaches across the table and takes my fingers between his, rubbing soothing circles into my knuckles. The bitter residue of fear rises in my throat and take a large swing of my wine trying to wash it down.

The night comes back to me in an instant. We were arguing about how much time he spends with his secretary. And of course, he brought up Keanu. He was so angry and we were both shouting, then before I could register it, he was a couple inches away from me, his palm connecting with the side of my face. It hurt, like hell. Though the physical pain was incomparable to the shame I felt the minute I hit the floor. There I was, a grown woman, near thirty, letting a man treat me like that, knowing that I’d forgive him for the sake of love. “You need to understand,” I begin, trying to douse the flame before it gets worse, “It was just once, and he apologized right after,” more like a couple hours after.

Keanu’s eyes darken with anger and his grip on my hand tights a little. In a quick movement, as he growls, “That motherfucker,” Keanu stands abruptly. Patrons around us fix their eyes on him and I get the feeling it’s not because of his celebrity status.

“What the hell are you doing?” I whisper loudly, watching as he tosses several notes to the table. Stuffing his wallet back into his pocket, he starts walking off and I have to jog to catch up, “Keanu!” I call again as the cool night air hits our faces. Instinctively, I pull my jacket closed, finally reaching him as we near his bike.

“Y/n, it doesn’t matter that he apologized. It matters that he did it,” he shakes his head,running an anxious hand through his hand through his hair. I can almost hear him fuming, “He can’t get away with this.”

Reaching out, I put my hands on his shoulders and immediately, his gaze softens in the slightest, “Listen to yourself Ke, this isn’t you. I don’t need to to fight my battles, that’s why I didn’t tell you,” I sigh quietly, “Besides, he’s in New York, what are you going to do? Book a flight just to punch him in the face?”

“That’s not even half of what he deserves,” Keanu counters, shaking his head again, “I shouldn’t have let him hurt you,” he hangs his head, defeated.

“It’s not your fault,” I take a tentative step forward and he pulls me in further, hugging me.

“How can you still marry him?” He asks quietly.

I don’t answer him. Because I can’t. Logically, there is no answer, I should have left him, tossed the ring in his face and moved on. But I didn’t, I took a shower and went to bed next to him. Then I flew to L.A with every intention of meeting him at the top of the aisle him next month. I don’t know Keanu, I don’t.

The ride back is quick and the comfort of Y/n’s hands around my middle calms me a little and soon I’m walking her to her door. “Thanks for tonight,” she smiles softly as we near her door.

“Even if I looked like an ass storming out the restaurant?” I chuckle quietly. I’m still angry, but not at Y/n. I could never stay mad at her, speaking from experience, I know I’d miss her too much.

“Yeah,” she laughs, and I get so lost in the moment that I throw an arm around her shoulders, admiring how adorable she looks fishing through her coat pocket for her keys. “Samantha’s lucky, you’re badass when you’re angry.”

Feeling a streak of guilt at the mention of Samantha, I remove my hand, putting an inch of space between us as she goes to unlock the door. Y/n slips her key into the slot, turning it and then scrunching her face, “What’s wrong?”

“The door is unlocked,“ she states and I know she’s trying mask her fear.

My heart beats against my ribs, I’m more scared for her than myself. If anything happens to her tonight, I wouldn’t be able to live with it. It already hurt like every level of hell knowing that Jacob hurt her. Then it happens, fear morphs and reshapes itself, turning to anger and the fierce need to protect her, “Stay here,” I order, stalking off into the apartment before Y/n can protest.

I leave her standing near the doorway, and against my better judgment I forgo any form of a weapon. Hopefully my fists will be enough. Hell, hopefully I don’t even have to use them.

The kitchen and dining room is clear and I’m headed to the living room, making sure my footfalls are softened by my slow pace.

I walk in to the living room, stumbling back a little when I see who’s on the couch. It takes a minute, but soon the anger in my core almost triples and before I can think my next actions through, I’m lunging forward, grabbing Jacob by the collar, “What the hell-” 

I don’t let him finish. He doesn’t deserve to. How dare he hit her? Hurt her? My fist connects with his face, first hitting him in the jaw then rearing back to catch him in the nose. He tries to fight back, but I barely give him the chance, slamming him into the nearest wall, “You fucker, you don’t get to hit her like that, ever.”

Jacob’s lip is bleeding and so is his nose, “You think you’re so great, punching me in the fucking face for a woman that doesn’t even love you back.” His statement stuns me a little and he carries on after a spiting out a mouthful of blood, “Yeah,” he chuckles, “I see the way you look at Y/n. But news flash Keanu, you might be this awesome movie star, but she’s marrying me.” In the corner of my eye, I see a figure move into the room, but I don’t care and without thinking I hit him again before shoving him to the ground.

I hear a quiet gasp behind me and when I turn Y/n is standing, mouth agape eyes wide, phone and keys in her hands near her chest. She seems too shocked to speak and I can only hope she’s not mad. 

Her eyes continuously flick from my bloodied hands and my face. Shit! I’m holding my breath for her yelling, kicking me out as she rushes to her fiancée. But it never happens. Instead, she stays rooted to her spot a couple feet away, until she finally asks, “Are you okay?”

I assume that the question is meant for Jacob, who’s still on the floor, clutching his possibly broken nose, but her eyes stay on me.

And now, things feel more confused than they were before.

*****

Tagging- @avxgers  @sgt-morgan  @doodooloo700  @shanjedi  @coolbreezeinkeanureeves  @i-cant-remember-my-old-login @baphometwolf666 @everything-is-awesomesauce  @a-really-bi-girl​

#Keanu Reeves #Keanu Reeves x Reader #Keanu Reeves x you #Keanu reeves fanfic #Keanu reeves fanfiction #john wick x reader #Keanu #reeves #reader insert #john wick #Wonderwall #Wonderwall chapter 6 #xreader #john wick x you

[loving-jack-kelly]

So I hate to so this to you but.... Newsies RWRB au.... RWRB Newsies au.... just.... leaving these here....

Okay listen yes don’t hate to do this to me (it’s not like I’ve been thinking about this since I read the book or anything no way nuh-uh not at all)

Jack is Alex and Davey is Henry

Jack is the adopted son of Medda, who’s obviously the president

(Crutchie is June and Race is Nora)

Anyway Jack is the adopted son of President Medda and Davey is the heartthrob prince

So Sarah is Bea and there’s also little Les, but like I like both of them too much to make one of them Phillip so I guess there’s a fourth Jacobs who’s the one getting married who’s the awful one

but anyway Jack and Davey met once a while ago and Jack just didn’t like him. thought he was a jerk.

and proceeded to just kind of vague him on Twitter and avoid actually meeting with him for a long time

until he has to go to the royal wedding, where he gets a little bit tipsy and starts arguing with Davey and they end up in the cake

u know. Cakegate. It starts everything.

So their respective publicity teams are like you guys need to pretend to be best friends to make people forget about the cake incident

So Jack gets packed off back to England to spend “”””””””quality time”””””” with Davey and he’s ready to hate it

Surprisingly, it’s kind of okay

they do some public appearance stuff and it’s boring but fine

and then at the palace, Jack is mostly left as alone as one can be at Buckingham Palace and he runs into Davey late at night stealing food from his fridge

and it’s this complete discord because he’s so used to Davey being completely put together and well-groomed and prim and proper

and now he’s standing in the dark kitchenette lit only by the light from the freezer, holding a box of popsicles and looking like a deer caught in headlights. he’s in brightly colored fuzzy socks and his hair is a mess and he’s wearing thick glassed Jack didn’t even know he needed

it’s like he suddenly realizes that Davey is a person too, not just a prince, and so it’s a little bit easier to pretend to be his friend

they exchange numbers at the end of the trip “to make it easier to set this stuff up”

So there’s this list of things they have to do together. There’s a state dinner Davey has to come to, a New Year’s Eve party Davey has to come to, a charity launch Jack has to go to, a bunch of public events spread out over a year to prove they’re really friends

they start texting though and kind of without realizing it Jack starts to genuinely like Davey

he’s funny in a kind of dry way and since neither of them are ever asleep when they should be they end up being awake at the same times more often than one would think

so they talk a lot and get to know each other and the next time they have to see each other they both sort of realize that they aren’t faking it at all, they’re genuinely friends

and then comes the New Year’s Eve party

it’s a big deal

like the biggest social event held by the white house for people younger than thirty-five every year

Davey comes and brings his best friend, Katherine, but Katherine immediately latches onto Crutchie and Race, who think this weird spitfire British millionaire who’s slowly redistributing her father’s accumulated wealth to people who need it is hilarious

so Jack and Davey hang out all night

eventually, Davey disappears and Jack finds him outside, and they have a much deeper conversation about what it’s like being in the spotlight so much

and it comes around to dating and Davey tries to hint that he’s gay without saying it out loud but Jack is so oblivious with things like that that he hasn’t even realized he’s bi yet so it flies right over his head

until Davey kisses him

which is like

oh

Oh

OH SHIT

but when he’s still on the Oh, Davey runs because he’s scared. Jack kind of gets it. he kind of wants to run and hide to.

instead he puts on a happy face for the rest of the night and keeps up the cover Davey supplied for running and then stays up all night painting because that’s how he processes things

and then he talks to Race, who’s like yeah lmao you literally had a boyfriend in high school remember?

and Jack is like OH SHIT again

so he’s trying to reach out to Davey who’s completely ghosted him and then finally Davey has to come to the states for the dinner that he couldn’t get out of and Jack is like okay who’s gonna help me corner the prince of england completely alone i probably won’t kill him but nobody else can be there

and his long-suffering secret service agent is like….fine

so Jack gets Davey alone and Davey low-key is pretty sure he’s gonna get punched but instead Jack kisses him

and Davey kisses him back

and Jack is properly short-circuiting and Davey is really hot and how did he not realize how hot Davey is until Davey’s kissed him and why hasn’t he been kissing Davey this whole time

and when the secret service agent has to interrupt them before they get walked in on by Medda’s entire cabinet Jack tells Davey where his room is

and their relationship is wild after that. they’re going out of their way to be at each other’s events. sneaking away however they can to be alone. Jack’s secret service agent deserves a medal for the number of times she covers for him sneaking away to get with the prince of england

some rumors start to spread that maybe there’s something between them because they went from seeing each other in public once in a while to like three times a month

so Jack pretends to have a thing with Katherine for a little while, until somebody *cough maybe snyder should be the evil republican cough* leaks photos of Jack and Davey kissing in a car

they decide to be done lying. they went from enemies to best friends to romantically loving each other and they want to be able to go on a date with each other is that too much to ask?

but not before Davey has to fight for it. the random older brother who got married at the beginning of this and started the whole thing is against it. the queen thinks it will look bad.

Sarah points out how people are reacting literally right outside their door

and Davey finally puts his foot down. says he’ll take himself out of line for the throne if that’s what it takes for him to get to live his life as him and not as some character a publicity team designed for him

and they do

and it’s gay

and they’re in love

and medda gets reelected

and everyone should go read red white and royal blue by casey mcquinston right now because it’s amazing

it’s this plot like exactly bc i don’t want to change anything

i love this book so much

go read it

thank you

#jakgdkgkagd i swear i read the book and was like #ooh javid au #marvelmerlinao3 #i restrained myself from writing it until somebody asked tho #ajgkdsgjlh #newsies #javid #red white and royal blue #rwarb #rwrb #jack kelly #davey jacobs #medda for president 2020

[swimwriter]

Bathbombs and Soaps

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x Reader

Warnings: None

Notes: None

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This is agony. A total disaster. How are you supposed to decide? There are literally thousands of options! And you must find the perfect one. Nothing else will do!

Maybe the one with lavender? But then again, he is not exactly a lavender person.

Rosemary? Or is that too cliché? But it has a nice, earthy scent and that is more his thing.

Mint? No, that is just implying things you do not want to imply, especially with the prank and the reason you are standing in this shop anyway.

So what? What’s it gonna be? This is so stressful, not even the choice of a dress for the ball was this nerve-wracking.

Then again, there Andre only gave you three options and now you are here, in front of this wall full of soaps and don’t know which to pick. This is the wo-

“What are you doing?” You jump up on the spot, freeze in mid-air and almost fall flat on your face. Penny is standing behind you, smiling bemused and behind her, you can see Barnaby standing in front of the bath bombs with what looks suspiciously like a full mouth and foam coming out of it. You flush a bright red and avoid her eyes as best as you can. She bends down until she can look at your face again.

“Hello, earth to our resident infamous curse-breaker. What are you doing here?” She smiles, brightly, or as brightly as she can muster with the weight of her sister being trapped in a portrait on her shoulders. You mumble something and shuffle on your feet. Penny leans in your direction.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“I said I am searching for a gift for Charlie!” A few people turn in your direction and give you a funny look before going back to their own shopping. Barnaby saunters over to you, looking entirely too innocent. Penny smiles at you, a little bigger now.

“Is it because of that rumour about you letting loose a horde of frogs in the prefect’s bathroom and him getting caught in it?”

“It was frog spawn soap. A lot. A whole lot, oh Penny! I was so hoping it would be someone I can’t stand but it had to be Charlie. How is he ever gonna forgive me for this?” You bury your face in your hands and are this close to just hex a hole into the ground to swallow you up.

“I thought you already had your explanations and forgiveness done?” Barnaby cocks his head to the side and uses the back of his hand to swipe some foam from the corner of his mouth. You give a frustrated sigh and nod your head.

“Yeah, but I want to do something nice for him, as an additional apology.” Penny gives you a sly little grin.

“Also, because she likes him.” If it is possible, you get a shade darker. Your affection for the younger Weasley is very apparent, at least to all your friends. Well, except himself. And you are not exactly a forward person with your innermost feelings.

Barnaby makes a gesture to the bath bombs behind him.

“You know, they have ones that are shaped like dragon eggs, I bet he’d enjoy this.” You had already seen those and almost bought them, before you remembered that he would actually have to bathe with those and that was just a recipe for unwanted memories. So, you got stuck with the soaps.

But Penny was already shaking her head and looked to be deep in thought, before her face practically began to glow with how much she was smiling.

“I have an idea! But it might take time to get it right and a lot of trial an error, are you up for it?” There was a determined look on her face, but it was Penny, you would trust her with your life. And were this close to losing your shit, you would try about anything at this point. So, you nodded, and she stepped next to you.

“First, we are finally gonna choose one of those. Don’t worry about the shape, just think about the scent. What do you think he’d like?” She gives you an encouraging smile and you slump your shoulders.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out for the last hour.” It’s a little pathetic to think that you already spent an entire hour stuck here because you can’t decide. Barnaby nudges your shoulder.

“It’s not that complicated. What smells good? What reminds you of him? Things like that, like this one for example.” He picks up the rosemary scented one that you toyed with earlier and you make a vague gesture with your hand. It is good, but not quiet right.

“I think we can rule out sugary sweet things. But herbs and the like? That is a good starting point.” And so your two friends help you spend an entire afternoon in a magic shop that sells actual bath bombs, soaps that change colour and never-ending shampoo to find the perfect one to give to the redhead whom you gave the shock of his life.

*********

A few days later you are sitting in an abandoned bathroom, a small cauldron and a fire lit underneath in front of you. Next to you lie a semi-sharp knife, a nice wooden box and a variety of earlier tries that did not go as perfect as you hoped. Penny sits down next to you with another batch of melted and then reshaped soap and hands you the oval containers.

“My mother used to do this as little gifts for all her friends. She’d either make soap or just melt it and then press it into other shapes or cut them to a certain size.” And so here you were, trying (and failing) to make the forest scented soap look like a miniature dragon egg. It was more complicated than it should have been. You already nicked your hand more times than you can count and so far have produced one decent egg.

You carefully crack open the first container, take out the soap and grab the knife lying next to you. Carefully, you start making scale-like shapes in the soap, modelled after the picture of the egg of a Hungarian Horntail in the book lying next to you. This one seems to be a decent one as well and you are almost finished, when a voice asks, “What are you doing?” behind your back. Shocked, you almost jump up and drop the fake egg which chips when it smashes into the ground. Duncan is floating behind you and looking over the little station you and Penny have set up with great interest.

“Trying not to drop the soap when ghosts scare us!”, is what you throw back at him, a little miffed, while Penny swings her wand and the fruit of your labour is whole once more. Duncan has the decency to look a little sheepish, but then he tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes.

“Why are you making soap?”

“It’s a present”

“For who?”

“I think you can guess.” He thinks for a moment before his mouth drops open in an exaggerated ‘O’ and his eyes widen.

“It’s for the redhead! Your unwilling victim of the frog spawn soap!”

“Correct.” You concentrate on the soap in front of you again, putting the finishing touches on it and setting it to the other one into the small box. Two out of three done. Duncan floats next to you with an interested look on his face.

“Why are they shaped like this?” he asks and tries to poke one of the eggs. You sigh and carefully extract the next one.

“It’s because he likes dragons, it’s practically all he talks about like, 80 percent of the time. He wants to work with them when he is through with school-“

“And she has a huge crush on him.” Penny throws in with a grin and you drop your head into your hands.

“Do you have to say that to everyone?” is what you mumble miserably, and she pats you on your back. Duncan’s head shoots up and he gives you a little grin, the one that you have seen before and that promises nothing good.

“Do you want me to get him? I’ll go get him! Charlie was it, right?” And before you can get a word in edgewise, he floats out at the speed of light, leaving you dumbstruck and Penny giggling.

“This is my nightmare. This is how I die!” you mumble and are contemplating how much work it would be to flush yourself down the toilet. Your blonde friend just gives you a clap on the shoulder.

“It won’t be that bad. How is the last one coming along?” With that you remember the object in your hand and start laying into it you’re your knife. The carving gets easier each time you try and by now the first few rows of scales get done quickly and beautifully, it’s the more delicate part an the top where they get smaller that you still have some problems with. And wile you try to make this one as perfect as possible, Penny leaving. You don’t notice the door opening again minutes later and footsteps approaching. What you do notice is someone leaning over your shoulder and therefore right next to your face.

“These look really realistic,” Charlie smiles, and you manage to cut yourself again! Seriously, what is it with you and sharp objects? He immediately curses and digs through his pockets to find a handkerchief and wraps it around your palm.

“Are you okay? Bloody hell, that looks like it hurts!” He exclaims and then stops when he notices all the other cuts on your hand. He gingerly takes it into his palm and turns it over to inspect all the other injuries.

“How did you manage to get so many of them?”

“I am not good with sharp objects. Jacob always made fun of me saying I shouldn’t even be allowed to eat with a fork and has never let me forget it.” You admit this between grit teeth as it really hurts. Charlie stands up and drags you with him from the bathroom floor to one of the sinks where he holds your palm under cold water. It becomes slightly pink before disappearing down the drain. With a quick flick of your wand your skin is slightly pink but good as new.

“Why are you making dragon eggs out of … what is this even, it smells really nice.” The redhead tilts his head and gives you his best impression of puppy-dog eyes. Merlin, how weak you are for these eyes!

“It is soap and was supposed to be another apology to you. For the other soap that ruined baths forever for you. They had bath bombs in the shape of dragon eggs and I almost bought those but, well, the bath thing …” You trail off when you see his slack jawed face and want to disappear into the ground.

“But you already apologized! You didn’t have to give me anything else.” He looks at you as if you are a marvel and it make you feel as if your cheeks are on fire. Charlie seems to realize that he is essentially still holding your hand and while a blush spreads from his ears down under his shirt, he still entangles his fingers with yours. You notice and blush an even deeper shade of red, almost rivalling his quidditch robes.

“Want to show me how it’s done?” He asks with a little smile on his face and you manage a nod, before you drag him over to your little work station and sit down cross legged across from him. Then you hand him one oval soap egg and Penny’s knife that she left on the floor.

Between the two of you, various re-melting and re-shaping trips and some cuts on the redhead’s hand, you manage to get ten eggs total. He looks really happy as you give him the box of soap. After you two clean up the bathroom he stops you before you leave and holds out the last egg he made.

“But why?” is all you ask as you gingerly take it from him and almost press it to your chest. He shyly rubs the back of his neck and looks anywhere but you.

“Well, you were so nice to make me these and put all the work into it, so I thought you deserved one too.” It’s so sweet that you just can’t anymore – your eyes go wide; your mouth falls open a little and then you make the single most impulsive decision of your life. You shuffle closer and lean up on your tiptoes to reach his cheek on which you plant a kiss.

For a moment time seems to stand still. Everything is fuzzy around the edge and then you have to drop down onto your feet. Charlies looks dumbstruck. He is absolutely red in the face, his eyes are wide as saucers and his mouth opens and closes rapidly. In a millisecond, your brain supplies you with a thousand ways this scenario can go now. What it certainly doesn’t come up with is Charlie looking determinately at you before he sets the boy in his arms down, takes your egg and lays it on top, before he puts one hand on your waist and the other on your shoulder and leaning down to kiss you.

Your hands manage to find purchase on his shoulders and then slide up to his jaw, while his slides to your neck. Now the world completely falls away from you and only when you are sure you are about to suffocate do you separate from each other. You can’t suppress the big grin on your face and Charlie laughs, before dropping his forehead to yours.

“You are absolutely forgiven for the disaster in the prefect’s bathroom. But if this is what I get every time you play a prank on me please, never stop.”

#hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery x reader #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x mc #swimwriter

[chobit92]

Home: Jacob Seed/OC Chapter 38

Warnings: Sex, Drug use, Swearing

(Next Day: Mara throws her head over the loo retching violently. She lets out a sob as she straightens up and wipes her mouth. She then goes over to the spigot and rinses off her hands before splashing some of the water on her face. She rubs her belly as she feels another cramp coming on. Her back hurts too and her breasts. Her breasts feel like they weigh a ton and there’s funny white spots dotted around her nipples. She sighs as she heads back to the barn trying not to cry. She gets there to see Faith and Jacob.). Faith: Hey sis. Mara: Hey. (She can’t look at Jacob. She feels self conscious. Like somehow he is going to know just by looking at her. She’s just waiting for the moment someone notices. They are bound to notice and she has no idea what the hell to do. She can’t go to one of the doctors of Edens Gate because they will tell Joseph and she’ll be ruined. She has been wondering whether or not to just tell Joseph herself. But then Jacob would find out and...And what? She wonders why she is so scared. What’s he gonna do? She doesn’t want to find out. But everyone will find out. She can’t hide it for long.). 

Faith: Are you okay? Mara: Yeah. Faith: You look tired. Mara: Thanks. In other words I look like shit. Faith: No. You just look tired. Mara: I haven’t been getting much sleep. Faith: Are we still spending the day together? Mara: Yeah. Faith: Great. Jacob’s going to give us a lift on his way back to the mountains. Mara: Okay. (Faith sees the white book that contains Joseph’s word lying discarded on the floor. She picks it up.). Faith: Have you read it yet? Mara: Haven’t had time. (Faith sighs.). Faith: You should read it. (Mara doesn’t say anything she just stares into space.). Jacob: You ready to leave coz I wanna get going. Faith: Yes. We’re ready aren’t we? Mara: Yeah. (Mara follows Faith and Jacob over to his truck. Mara gets in the back with Faith and leans against the window. She finds herself looking down at her stomach wondering if people can see. She’s just being paranoid though. Jacob starts the engine and drives off heading for the Henbane River. Mara doesn’t really want to go the Henbane, there’s bliss shit everywhere. It always makes her feel ill. Mara looks out the window. The black fencing with the razor wire around it. Like a prison yard.). Faith: Are you okay sis? Mara: Yeah. Faith: Liar. Mara: What? Faith: I know something’s wrong. You’ve been acting really weird. Mara: How have I been acting weird? Faith: You’ve been really moody lately. Mara: I told you PMT. (Faith sighs.). Faith: Where do you go when you leave the compound? Mara: You mean you can leave it? Faith: You have been sneaking off somewhere. Mara: What? Sneaking where? Faith: I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you sis. Mara: I haven’t snuck anywhere. Is this why you wanted to spend the day with me? To accuse me of something else? Tch! Faith: Holly said that you have been sneaking out of the compound to meet someone. Mara: Oh Holly said did she? Oh well it must be true whatever she says! It never stops does it? All she does is spread a load of shit about me and what? You just believe her? Well thanks sis. Love you too. (She leans against the window again. Faith sighs. The rest of the drive is a silent awkward one. Jacob pulls onto a small gravel drive. Mara could tell they were in the Henbane the second they went over that bridge a little while ago. Trees with bodies hanging in them and bliss flowers everywhere. Jacob stops the truck outside a white bungalow. Mara can see Lexi and two other women tying bliss flowers together in bunches and putting them in crates. The flowers also hang on metal frames in neat rows.). Faith: Thanks for the lift Jacob. (Jacob grunts. Faith gets out and Jacob looks in the rear view mirror at Mara who hasn’t moved.). Jacob: You getting out or what coz I got things to do. Mara: Now I gotta spend the day surrounded by this druggie hippy crap. Great. Jacob: Do you ever stop complaining? Mara: Oh shut up. (She gets out and slams the truck door before walking towards the bungalow. Jacob stays where he is watching her until she disappears inside the bungalow. He then turns the truck around and drives off. 

---Mara stumbles along, her feet dragging through the soft grass. She is barefoot and wearing a dress her sister said would suit her. Mara hates it. It is white with flowers on. She has a pounding headache and feels dizzy and sick. Fucking Bliss! She can’t believe her sister has drugged her up again. She doesn’t even know where she is or if any of it is even real. It’s so weird. She could be walking along the side of the road for all she knows looking like a zombie. But what she is seeing is a garden with large iron gates and trees and flowers and animals. She hears her sister giggling then sees her running and twirling around. She then takes hold of Mara’s hands.). Faith: Come on sis. Mara: Where? (Faith then lifts into the air. Mara gasps and looks down watching the ground fall away.). Mara: This isn’t real. Faith: What? Mara: Well last time I checked sis humans couldn’t fly. Faith: You can do anything when you have faith. (Mara then sees the statue of the Father. She also notices Faith has pale white wings that look like they are made out of clouds. Mara laughs to herself as she realises how ridiculous this is.). Mara: Sis I’m gonna throw up in a minute. Unless you want it all over you I’d put me back down on the ground. Faith: Nonsense. (They land on the large open book of Joseph’s statue. Mara looks over the edge but all she can see is green fog. The green fog is all around her. She can’t see anything except for the Fathers statue. Faith then rises into the air again and flies backwards away from the statue.). Faith: Jump sis. Show your faith in the Father. In me. Mara: You what? (She can’t be fucking serious. Mara wonders if this is all in her head or whether she is really standing on Joseph’s statue. How did they even get up here? As much as this hallucinogenic shit tries to tell her that she flew she knows that humans can’t fucking fly!). Mara: Sis what the fuck? Put me back down on the ground! Now! Faith: Jump sis. Trust me you’ll be fine. Mara: Fine!? Is this even real? Where even am I? I can’t believe you would do this to me again sis! You know what you’re really starting to piss me off! I feel like shit! I ain’t in the mood for this! (Faith looks sad.). Faith: I love you sister. I have done nothing to hurt you. The Bliss just makes it easier. Less scary. Mara: Less scary? Who the fuck said I was scared? Scared of what? (There’s only one thing she is scared of...People finding out her secret.). Faith: Just jump sis. Show your faith in the Father. You have to. (Mara sits down on the book and holds her head before retching. She feels so sick and she has stomach cramps again. She suddenly thinks of Jacob, her sister drugging her again. Holly and her jealous lies! John being a perv. Evelyn being her only friend, the end of the world, the militia in the mountains. She sighs and lets out a sob. She gets up and yells to her younger sister.). Mara: So you want me to jump huh?! You want me to kill myself! Faith: No sis. You won’t die. (Her sisters voice seems to echo all around her.). Mara: Oh really? Well I guess it don’t fucking matter then does it? I’ll just jump and everything will be fucking fine won’t it?! Faith: Yes. It will be fine. Mara: Oh I hope I fucking die! Teach you a lesson wouldn’t it? (Faith looks confused.). Faith: What? Mara: I can’t do this anymore anyway! It’s better this way! (Mara steps to the edge of the book and looks down. She doesn’t feel scared. She feels...Free. All she has to do is throw herself off and it will all be over. She won’t have to worry about how she is going to tell anyone about her little problem. Because she won’t be a problem for anyone anymore. The last thing she thinks about is Jacob holding her and telling her that he loves her before she throws herself off the book and falls through the air. 

---Mara opens her eyes. Her head is pounding and her back is killing her. She blinks several times before realising that she is lying in long grass. She frowns. How isn’t she dead? She jumped off the fucking statue. It can’t have been real. Or maybe this isn’t real. Maybe she is dead. Maybe this is death. She lies there for a moment as she wonders whether she can move. Then she hears her sister.). Faith: Sis! Can you hear me? Mara: Yeah. (Mara tries to sit up and clutches her stomach as a particularly painful cramp hits her. Then she wonders...Maybe she’s finally taken things too far. She’s pushed her body too far. It was one thing to run an obstacle course daily but another to throw herself off of whatever it was that she did. Because she is sure that it wasn’t Joseph’s statue. It can’t have been. She sits up and Faith bends down frowning at her. Mara supposes if something has happened then it wouldn’t matter. Because she would never have to tell anyone about her secret. But a small part of her feels sad. She shakes the feeling away and stands up still holding her stomach.). Faith: Are you alright? Mara: No! I fucking ain’t! The hell are you trying to do me sis!? Faith: I just wanted to show you that you could do anything if you just had faith. You had to show that you had faith in the Father. Mara: By nearly fucking killing myself? (Mara’s vision flickers and she sees dots everywhere. Fucking Bliss shit!). Faith: No. Why can’t you see? Mara: Why can’t I see? Maybe coz I’m dosed up with that Bliss shit! I don’t do drugs! I hate drugs and I don’t fucking need them either! But yet again you have drugged me! You know what sis I’m gonna go back to the compound. I’ve had enough today. I feel like shit. (She walks a few steps but then stops and throws up everywhere. Faith sighs and goes to her rubbing her back.). Mara: Just leave me alone. Faith: I’m sorry sis. Mara: It always makes me ill. It’s not normal sis. Seeing all this weird shit that ain’t there. I think you’ve still got your drug problem if you need this shit. Faith: I haven’t got a problem. Mara: Needing a drug that makes you see shit that ain’t there. A drug that makes everything feel alright for a minute or two? Yeah okay sis you keep telling yourself that you don’t need it as an escape. That you don’t have a drug problem but do you know what? That is a drug problem. You need help. (Mara walks off. Faith follows her.). Faith: Please sis! Don’t be like this! Mara: Like what? You want to take drugs that’s your business but I keep telling you that I don’t want them and you keep fucking drugging me! Sisters don’t do that shit to each other! I’m meant to be able to trust you but how can I when you keep betraying my trust!? Faith: I haven’t betrayed you. I am only trying to help you. You just can’t see it that way and I’m sorry for that. We should be able to trust each other yes. I trust you sis. But don’t forget you are the one that has secrets. Mara: What? Faith: You still haven’t told me where you keep sneaking off to. We’re sisters. We tell each other everything. Mara: I already told Joseph where I went. I had a urine infection and it was a little embarrassing so I went to the doctor in Holland Valley and he gave me antibiotics to clear it up. I then went back to see him like he told me to, to make sure that it was gone. I got there and the place was a wreck. Edens Gate must have attacked the place. Faith: He was a sinner. Joseph offered him salvation but he refused and he threatened to call the national guard. Mara: National fucking guard. Like they give a damn. So what he didn’t want to join so kill him? Great. (Mara walks off again. Faith follows her.). Faith: Do you want to leave? Mara: What is it with you? No I don’t want to leave. I love you sis you are all that I have! (Mara is on the verge of tears now.). Mara: I just don’t understand why every time that Holly bitch says something about me you fucking believe her! You know what think what you want! (Mara walks off. Faith follows her again and grabs her arm.). Faith: Please. I don’t want us to fight. (Mara sighs.). Mara: Neither do I. Faith: I believe you about the doctors. I know Holly doesn’t like you and I told her that you wouldn’t be meeting up with someone and thinking of betraying us. Mara: Oh so that’s what she thinks is it? Well she’s being ridiculous. Faith: I love you sis and I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel unwell. Mara: I just can’t take that Bliss crap and I don’t want it either. All I’m asking is for you to stop bloody drugging me. Faith: Okay. But if ever you’re struggling, with anything, you tell me okay? Mara: I will. But I ain’t. (Faith smiles then hugs her. Mara hugs her back. As annoyed as she is she just can’t stay mad at her little sister.). Faith: Come on. Lexi said she’d drive us back to Joseph’s compound. Mara: Okay. 

---10.23pm: Mara sits on her stolen ATV outside the St Francis Veterans Center. She looks up at the large imposing gate, the boarded up windows. The whole place looks depressing. She asks herself why she has come here again. She can’t stop thinking about Jacob. His hair, his eyes, his muscled arms and torso. The trail of hair he has leading from his belly button to his groin. His lips...Everything about him looks hardened and cold but his lips are surprisingly soft and warm. God she loves his lips. She realises she has missed him. She has no idea why. It isn’t like he is caring. He only wants her for sex. He doesn’t even treat her how she wants to be treated. She wants to make love not just fuck. But Jacob is quite rough. He always leaves bruises on her and she is always sore down there afterwards. She sighs. She places her hand on her belly as tears sting her eyes. What the hell is she doing? 

---1.02am: Jacob drives his truck through the gate of the St Francis Veterans Center. He parks it out of the way and gets out. Barry is sitting on the steps smoking.). Barry: Evening. (Jacob grunts and walks past him.). Barry: Um...Jacob? Jacob: I’m tired. (He goes inside. He goes upstairs and walks down the hall towards his office. He opens the door and puts his rifle down on the desk. He then freezes as he looks at his bed. Mara is lying in it asleep. The blanket is covering her but he can tell that she is naked. Her clothes are on the floor next to the bed. He walks over to the bed and shakes her violently. She stirs then sits up. The blanket slides down her body and exposes her large breasts as she props herself on her elbows looking up at him. She smiles.). Mara: Hey handsome. Jacob: What do you think you’re doing? Mara: Waiting for my handsome soldier to get home. (She moves so that the blanket slides down further exposing her naked body, her soft white skin, her hair falling around her face. She looks up at him seductively. He can’t deny how beautiful she is. His cock responds as all the blood in his body seems to rush to his groin. He swallows hard.). Jacob: Who let you in here? Mara: Embry. I told him I wanted to surprise you. He thought you’d like it. (She smiles.). Jacob: I’m tired. I want my bed back. Mara: Um. He wants his bed back. (She bites her lip then gets up so that she is kneeling on the bed. She then runs a hand through her hair.). Mara: Ah well. Guess I’ll just have to go then. (She looks up at him and bites her lip.). Mara: Or...I could stay. With you. (Jacob stares at her.). Jacob: You’ve got some front I’ll give you that. Mara: I’d rather you give me something else. (He raises an eyebrow. Then he chuckles and shakes his head.). Jacob: You can’t get enough can you? Mara: Nope. I told you. I like spending time with you. Jacob: And I told you that I’m tired. (She shrugs.). Mara: Sleep then. (She lies back down moving over so that she is right against the wall and there’s room for him. He stands there for a moment and thinks about dragging her out of the bed and telling her to fuck off. But then he vaguely remembers what it was like to sleep next to her. He had no nightmares and he woke up with her lying on his chest and touching him with such tenderness it stunned him. He removes his thigh holster and hooks it around the bed frame. He then removes his boots and socks. He then removes his army jacket before leaving the room and walking across the landing to his private bathroom. He takes a piss before washing his hands and splashing water on his face before drying it with a grubby towel. He decides that he will shower in the morning. He looks at himself in the broken mirror. He tries to see what Mara finds handsome about him but he can’t. He then returns to his office. He removes his t-shirt and jeans then his boxers before closing the balcony door and getting into bed. Mara fidgets and snuggles against him. There isn’t much room in the single bed for both of them. He takes up much of the space. He feels her kiss his shoulder, her hand slides over his chest her fingers curling through the hair he has there. The bedside lamp is still on illuminating her face. She then slides her leg over him and moves so that she is straddling him. She looks down at him her long blonde hair is so long that it touches his chest tickling him. She slides her fingers over his chest fiddling with the chain of his dog tags.). Jacob: I told you I’m tired. I need to sleep. Mara: You don’t have to do anything. You can just lie there and relax. (She leans down placing kisses on his chest. He can’t deny how good it feels to have a beautiful young woman servicing him.). Mara: Where have you been anyway? Jacob: Nosy. Mara: Yep that’s me. Jacob: At my armoury. Mara: The bunker? Jacob: Yeah. I’ve been helping move more supplies into it. Mara: Um. Little busy bee. Jacob: Um. (She moves sliding herself over his penis making him groan. He is hard now. She leans down and kisses him. He hesitates before kissing her back. He places a hand on her back. His other hand slides through her hair. She slides herself over his penis again and moans into his mouth.). Mara: Hm. You’ve been drinking coffee. Jacob: Um. You’ve been drinking my whiskey. Mara: You caught me. I needed it to pluck up the courage to seduce you. I ain’t exactly confident you know? And you aren’t an easy man to seduce. Jacob: You seem to have managed it. (She giggles. Then she straightens up and moves. She looks down and reaches down with one hand. She then takes him inside her making him close his eyes as his mouth drops open. He lets out a gasp. She sits there for a moment looking down at him before she starts to ride him bouncing up and down on his lap. He grips her hips then opens his eyes looking up at her. Her large breasts bounce and jiggle around all over the place which he finds a huge turn on. He reaches up and grabs one of her breasts. He then runs his fingers over the word ‘Wrath’ carved into her chest above her breasts. She stops moving and looks down at him.). Mara: It looks awful doesn’t it? Jacob: No. Mara: I hate them. My scars. Jacob: Look at mine. I’ve lost count how many I’ve got. Mara: You’re beautiful Jake. (He stares up at her rubbing his thumb over her nipple.). Jacob: So are you. (She stares at him then smiles before starting to move again. A minute later he is already close. She is moaning loudly. He then notices that she is rubbing her clitoris with her finger. He lets out a loud groan as he feels himself cum. He is breathless and so is she. She moves a few more times rubbing her clitoris hard before he feels her walls tighten around him and she shudders. She lets out a loud moan before she collapses on his chest panting hard.). Mara: Um. Hm. Um. (He runs his hand over her back feeling the scars she has there. He traces the word ‘Devil’ carved into her skin. She then sits up and lifts herself off of him before lying down next to him and snuggling against him. She grabs the blanket and drapes it over them. She then lies her head on his chest and drapes her leg over him. Her hand rests on his chest.). Mara: Night handsome. (He swallows hard.). Jacob: Night. (He reaches up and switches off the lamp plunging the room into darkness.).

#Far Cry 5 #Writing #My Writing #Jacob Seed #Jacob Seed x Mara Jessop #Faiths sister #Faith Seed #Joseph Seed #John Seed #original characters #Mara Jessop

[carewyncromwell]

[Carewyn had been preparing herself for finally facing whatever was in the next Cursed Vault, just as Rakepick had instructed her, even though she didn’t do it at all for Rakepick’s sake. She was pretty confident that Rakepick only wanted the glory and treasure for herself -- but Carewyn knew Jacob was in that Vault, and she aimed to get to him, even if she had to temporarily ally herself with people she never would’ve otherwise.

Despite this thought process, though, she certainly hadn’t expected Merula to ask her for a private meeting at the Hog’s Head.

Carewyn found her old school rival and fellow cursebreaking apprentice sitting at one of the cleanest tables at the center of the room, glancing around at her surroundings with an uncomfortable, disgusted eye.]

Bilmes: “Ah, hello, Carewyn!”

[Carewyn greeted the owner of Zonko’s with a small smile as she quickly passed him.]

“Hi, Mr. Bilmes.”

[She also made eye contact with Aberforth behind the bar. She nodded to him politely, and Aberforth gave her a neutral, yet piercing look that reminded her uncomfortably of Dumbledore. Deciding it was best to just get down to business, Carewyn broke eye contact with Aberforth and slid over to Merula’s table so she could take a seat.]

[Carewyn shrugged.]

“Often enough. The Three Broomsticks gets so crowded -- sometimes it’s nice to come here when you’re not in the mood to socialize. And this place has...its own kind of charm, I guess...”

Old things always have more history, right?

[Merula studied Carewyn with a look that was half-baffled and half-intrigued.]

[Carewyn raised her eyebrows coolly.]

“You’re the one who asked to meet here, Merula.”

Merula: “Because I don’t want to be seen hanging out with you so much around Hogwarts.”

[Carewyn couldn’t fight back an eye roll.]

“Oh, the horror.”

People would think you actually developed some taste. But come on, only an idiot would look at the two of us and think we’re friends.

[Resisting those more mean-spirited thoughts, Carewyn tried to stay on topic.]

“What did you want to talk about, anyway?”

Merula: “The Cursed Vault, of course. You said, ready or not, it’s time for us to find a way in.”

[Carewyn inclined her head in a slight nod.]

“...Now that we’ve found the Portrait Rakepick said we need, it seems like the time’s right.”

Merula: “Yeah -- and Rakepick wants to meet us, so I want to talk to you before we talk to her. You know what to expect: you’ve been to more Cursed Vaults than I have.”

[Carewyn raised an eyebrow.]

“How many Cursed Vaults have you been to?”

[Merula considered this.]

Merula: “Um...none. So tell me what it’s like to go into a Cursed Vault -- ”

[She swung the school bag on her shoulder into her lap so she could take out a notebook and quill and put them down on the table.

Carewyn stared at them blankly.]

“...You brought a notebook?”

[A few seconds later she realized what Merula wanted, and she couldn’t stop herself from blinking at her several times very quickly.]

“Wait -- you want to take notes...based on what I say?”

[Carewyn was so taken aback, she couldn’t conjure up any witty taunt or retort. Her mouth opened and closed once as she considered Merula. Then, finally, Carewyn decided there was no point in making fun. She was uncomfortable enough by the weirdness of the situation that she didn’t really feel like laughing, and she didn’t think she could be that funny, even if she tried.]

“...Merula...I get it if you’re worried about going into a Cursed Vault for the first time -- ”

[Merula, true to form, immediately snapped back defensively.]

Merula: “What? I didn’t say I was worried!”

[Carewyn ignored her. When Merula got bratty like this, there was no reason to give her denial that much weight.]

“Anyone would be nervous going into a Cursed Vault. I mean -- it’s cursed.”

[Merula gave her best haughty expression.]

Merula: “Hmph, perhaps you’re nervous, Cromwell, but I’m not nervous.”

[Not feeling witty enough to say something clever and losing a bit of her patience, Carewyn actually snapped back a bit.]

“Oh, will you stop? I know you’re just acting tough out of your own pride, so cut the crap.”

[Merula was taken aback by "Little Miss Perfect” actually swearing. Not liking how irritated she felt, but glad that Merula had at least shut up, Carewyn spoke a little more levelly.]

“...Merula, we’re in this together. If we’re going to survive the Vault and break the curse, then we have to have each other’s backs.”

I may not like you anymore than I do Rakepick...but I need you both to get to my brother -- to save Beatrice.

[Merula’s shoulders slackened slightly as she considered Carewyn.]

[Carewyn felt the flush in her cheeks fading as her irritation cooled. Her eyes softened slightly as she gave Merula a slight smile.]

“Yes, actually. Frankly, I’d be worried if you weren’t nervous about going into the Cursed Vault. And it’s good that you’re being honest: then we can actually do something about it.”

[Carewyn’s softer, down-to-earth expression startled Merula almost more than her swearing had.]

[Carewyn barely acknowledged Merula’s surprise, instead thoughtfully trailing a hand through her ponytail as her eyes drifted idly up onto the cobwebbed chandelier overhead.]

“I can tell you what’s in a Cursed Vault...but I don’t think that alone would be enough.”

After all, talking about dragons with Charlie wasn’t enough on its own -- I had to also get more information from Binns, Hagrid, and Kettleburn.

“...Under the circumstances...it might make things easier if I don’t just tell you what to expect, but train you for it.”

[Merula’s face broke out into an amused smile.]

[Carewyn gave her a cooler expression.]

“The most powerful witches acknowledge when there’s something they still need to learn. So? Will you train with me or not?”

[Merula gave an airy sigh.]

Merula: “Well, if it’s that important to you...I suppose I’ll let you help me prepare.”

[Carewyn resisted the urge to huff in aggravation.]

Oh, yes -- I would absolutely want to be friends with someone this arrogant --

[In an attempt to keep her temper, Carewyn found herself channeling Snape’s detached, sardonic levelness.]

“Thank you, Merula, I’m flattered.”

[Her cynical response, however, only seemed to make Merula smile a little more.]

[Her face becoming a little more business-like Carewyn put both hands down on the table so she could push off from her chair and up onto her feet.]

“Back at school. I reckon you should first see what a cursed corridor looks like.”

---->To Be Continued...

(OOC: Hahaaaa, Merula’s actually warming up to Carewyn a bit, what the hell?!  It’s not like she still doesn’t have a lot of resentment built up against Carewyn for being “Little Miss Perfect,” and it’s not like Carewyn doesn’t still resent the hell out of Merula for her bad attitude and bullying tendencies -- but that doesn’t mean I still don’t get a kick out of them interacting. Perhaps because they’re so antagonistic, they actually have the chance to see more of the other than a lot of other people might see...and that’s kind of exciting! Let’s see where this goes from here...)

#carewyn cromwell #jacob's sibling #merula snyde #hphm #hogwarts mystery #roleplaying #gameplay #patricia rakepick

[missmarquin]

Magnetic, Ch. 2

In the future, romantic attraction is literal: each person is fitted with an electromagnetic bracelet which will pull you to your soulmate. It’s hard, wondering who’s out there for you. It’s harder yet, when you have to come to understand yourself first.

For the best Quality, read on AO3 (Including proper Italics and such)

Flux

‘The magnetic flux of a magnet through a surface, is the surface integral of the magnetic field passing through said surface.’

It had been a week, and Otabek was still freaking out.

He was too aware of the bracelet on his wrist, too focused on the little green light that blinked. And there was the thing, you know, the tug. It was like a little tick that pulled at him, nudging him gently towards the northwest.

He didn’t need to pull out a map to know where it led.

Really, that was what fucked him up the most. He had finally come to terms with being single, that it would be okay. He was happy with himself, proud of himself. He didn’t need Amita, or anyone to complete him.

He had finally found that peace, and then Yuri had gone and fucked it up.

Well, it wasn’t really Yuri’s fault, he figured. He’d always had a soft spot for him, he’d always loved him--

And that’s what fucking complicated things, because he wasn’t sure what to tell Yuri. He wasn’t sure how to explain to his best friend that he had like liked him for as long as he could remember. And he used the term like, because it was easier than the word love, and--

“Beka?” Yuri asked, his tone probing.

Right, the video call. “Mhm?” He shoved his hand into his lap, hoping Yuri hadn’t noticed him playing with it.

Yuri frowned slightly, narrowing his gaze, and Otabek hated it. He hated that Yuri could read him like a damn open book. But he didn’t comment on his odd behavior. “Would it be weird, if I were too lazy to find my soulmate?”

Otabek started at that. “Well no, but uh--”

“I can feel it,” Yuri continued, “But it seems like an unwanted weight, you know? I wasn’t expecting someone like me to actually have a match, you know?”

“Yuri, don’t be stupid,” he said immediately. “Of course there’s someone for you.” What a ridiculous thing to say. Of course he would have had a match. Otabek had no doubt that Yuri would have eventually found a guy that wasn’t gross. He tried to ignore that little prickle that told him he was that guy.

Yuri seemed to consider his words. “Well, whoever it is, isn’t close. That’s a bit of a relief.”

Oh, the dramatic irony of it all wasn’t lost on Otabek, and he nearly burst out laughing. Really, he was about to lose it.

Yuri shifted slightly, stretching his long legs out along his bed, as he leaned back slightly. Otabek looked away from the sliver of skin exposed by his shirt, busying himself by rubbing the skin of his wrist. “I have that solo debut I need to prepare for anyway. I have no need for unnecessary distractions.”

“Right, distractions,” Otabek said. That was something that he understood, that he’d struggled with for literally years, when he really thought about it. He was an expert of distracting himself from--

Yuri offered him a small smile, and Otabek’s heart skipped a beat. Yuri’s smiles were few and far between, so he always treasured them when treated to one. “This is boring talk anyhow,” he said. “It must annoy you, since… well, you know.” He pointed at Otabek, indicating his bracelet.

Otabek kept his hand in his lap, but turned the bracelet around his skin roughly. “Nothing about you annoys me, Yura,” he said. “Of course, you could always annoy Amita instead.”

Yuri groaned at the thought of her. “I miss her stupid face, you know. She should come back from America.”

“She’s married,” Otabek reminded him. “Unless Jacob wanted to--”

“Screw Jacob,” Yuri sighed. “Or not, I know she’s happy and all that. But you know, I’m still pissed that you got to go to the wedding.”

“Don’t be such a talented ballerino and maybe you can get time off.” Besides, it wasn’t like he had wanted to be the her man-of honor. It was more like she had demanded it.

Yuri groaned, as he fell back against the mattress. “Beka, stop teasing,” he grumbled, but Otabek chuckled.

“Speaking of dancing, you really should get to bed you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuri sighed. “You know, I’m glad that you don’t mind listening to my complaining, Beka. It sounds stupid, but it means a lot to me.”

“Of course, Yura,” Otabek replied easily. As if he wouldn’t.  

And that was that.

The tug at his wrist had started gentle, but two weeks later it practically roared in his veins.

Otabek wasn’t sure that was normal, but didn’t think much of it past that. All it did was make things harder, and it was a constant battle of trying to figure out what the fuck to do. Thank God Yuri was busy with his ballet, because he knew that the more he saw him, the weirder it would be, and Otabek didn’t like that, this weirdness that had settled over them--

Well, over him, at least. And if that wasn’t a testament to how he actually felt, then he didn’t know what was.

Which is how he ended up in his current predicament, hearing the phone dial in his ear. It was a nice afternoon and Otabek was holed up in his garage, working on a project. He moved to set the the phone to speaker mode before grabbing hold of his toolbox.

“Beks?”

“Amita,” he breathed with a sigh of relief.

“You never call me. Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he answered immediately, but then he thought about it. “No,” he sighed. Then he amended with, “I don’t know.”

“Otabek Altin, a man who doesn’t know? Now that doesn’t sound like you,” she said with humor, and Otabek couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Really though, it’s great to hear from you.”

“How’re the States?” he asked, settling into a spot on the floor next to the bike.

“The States,” she replied dryly. “Hot, shitty and barely worth it. I swear to you, if it weren’t for Jacob, I would have hopped a plane back the moment that I got here.”

“You complain about the heat, but you chose Arizona.”

“You know that I didn’t choose this,” she replied coolly, “I just followed a little tug.” She wasn’t angry though, causing Otabek to chuckle lightly. “Beks? Really, what is it?” she asked after the long moment that stretched between them.

“Yuri got his bracelet,” he finally said.

“Of course he did,” she mused. “I forgot that his birthday was a few months ago. I never called. Damn, he’s prolly angry that I--” Then she fell silent, considering something. “His bracelet activated, didn’t it?” she finally asked with a gentle tone, like a mother trying to calm a child. “Oh Beks--”

He wasn’t surprised that she had caught on, really. If anyone knew him as well as Yuri did, it was Amita, and he felt like if he owed anyone an explanation, it’d be her. “Mine did too,” he finally said. “The moment that his--”

Amita burst out laughing over the line, surprising Otabek. He blinked, looking to the phone in confusion. “Amita,” he hissed. “It’s not funny.”

“Beks, what’s funny is that you sound surprised.”

“Of course I’m fucking surprised,” he groaned.

There was a pause on her end, and then, “Wait, are you serious?”

“When am I never not serious?”

Otabek was considerably annoyed when Amita burst out laughing again. “I’m sorry Beks,” she finally said, once she had recovered. “I just-- it’s just--” She paused to take a deep breath. “So Yuri’s bracelet activated.”

“Obviously.”

“And then yours turned on at that moment?”

“Hence my mental meltdown.”

“You know, I’m going to tell you something and I want you to sit and listen--”

“Amita--”

“No interrupting!” Otabek sighed, but said nothing more. “Maybe this is an early mid-life crisis or something--”

“I’m twenty-three!”

“Beks.”

Otabek sighed. “Continue,” he grumbled.

“It’s not a bad thing,” she finally said. “Nor am I surprised.”

“Why are you so fucking calm about this?” Otabek finally asked. “You’re too calm about this. And what do you mean not surprised? Amita, you and I were going to get married.”

“And I broke it off for a reason, Beks.”

He rubbed a hand down his face, already tired of this conversation. He’d called Amita for advice, not for her to rub it in his face and tell him that his crisis wasn’t a fucking crisis.

Even if it really wasn’t.

“Your bracelet wasn’t tuned to me,” he finally said, “That’s why you broke it off.”

He heard Amita take a deep breath. “Beks,” she finally sighed, “That’s not why. I told you that it wasn’t fair to you--”

“Right, because I wasn’t the one--”

“No, because you love Yuri,” she snapped. Not in anger, though he could tell that she was annoyed that he kept trying to speak over her. She was trying to get him to listen to her. “Beks, you always have. I’ve always known.”

Otabek swallowed thickly. The conversation had taken a strange turn and suddenly his mouth was very dry. “Amita,” he started, “I…”

“I’m not angry, and I never was,” she said quietly, trying to soothe him.  "I know the pressure of trying to please your traditional family, trust me." She chuckled lightly. “And I mean, the irony isn’t lost on me. It’s hilarious to see you so flustered.”

“How did you know?” he asked her.

“It’s the little things you used to do them for him, but not for me. And really I mean it when I say it’s okay.”

Otabek grabbed at the bracelet again, twisting it nervously. “It’s not just some tiny little pull, Amita,” he confessed. “It’s like my veins are on fire.”

Amita hummed lightly. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

Otabek hated when Amita made sense.

“It won’t go away,” Yuri said to him one night.

Otabek hadn’t really been listening, a book resting against his knee and glasses perched on his nose. That was how their calls usually went. Often they swapped stories and shared their life, but most of the time it was them just hanging out on camera, going about their mindless activities.

That night wasn’t any different. Otabek had read Dune more times than he could count, so it made the perfect companion on their nightly calls, because he could get by only half-reading it. Combined with the ache in his eyes from his contacts and how tired he was in general, Yuri’s question had caught him off guard.

“Hmm?”

Yuri looked tired, dark circles heavy under her eyes. He was sprawled across his bed, his long legs unfolded as his hands carefully massaged his feet. "It's just--" He paused, sighing in frustration.

 His tone made Otabek dog-ear his page, setting the book down on his knee. "Yuri, what's wrong?" He watched the other man work the soles of his feet, long fingers wrapping around the fine bones, squeezing. The feet of a ballet dancer were ugly things, but Otabek saw beauty in Yuri's crooked and abused toes. All the hard work and dedication wasn’t lost on him.

 "It's such a distraction," he finally said. "I literally can't think of anything else. As soon as I get it out of mind, as soon as focus on something else, it just comes right--" Otabek could see the flaring of his nostrils, as Yuri tried to get a grip on himself. "So fucking stupid. I have fucking priorities."

 Right, priorities. Like being the best fucking male dancer in the entirety of the Bolshoi Ballet. This was why Otabek didn't want to say anything, this was why he'd kept fucking quiet. The moment that Yuri focuses on him, is the moment that he loses everything he's ever worked for.

"I wish..." Otabek started, his finger nervously worrying the edge of his book. It was an ancient copy, practically falling apart at the binding. But Yuri had given it to him years ago, and he just refused to let go of it. "I mean, I can't give you much advice," he finished with, hoping that his words didn't sound as stupid as they felt.

 Because he was a fucking hypocrite, coming closer and closer to fucking ruining their friendship.

 Yuri sighed at that. "Yeah, I know. I kind of envy that, you know. Not having to deal with it."

 Otabek swallowed at that. "Still, bounce your complaints off of me. I'm always good for that."

 "Don't I fucking know it," Yuri said, the barest of smiles crossing over his features. "Of course, you're good for other shit too."

 Otabek barely managed a smile back, his heart was beating so wildly.

 Not for the first time, he wondered if he was making a mistake.

 "Well I gotta say, this is a surprise."

 He winced at Maya's dry tone. Otabek had just barely started talking to his sister, and he was already regretting it. "Can you just-- can you just let me in?"

 "And what-- ignore the fact that you've come for my help? You never ask me for anything, I want to relish this moment for as long as I can."

 "Then can you do it inside? It's fucking freezing out here." He could see his breathe puffing up between them in the cold winter air, as he shuffled around slightly on her porch step. She gave him one last appraising look, before stepping sideways and motioning inwards.

 "Okay, okay," she said, teasing lilt still evident in her voice.

 Otabek loved his sister, really he did. Most people had siblings, but he had a twin and that was a bond quite unlike any other. Which was why if he was going to bemoan his entire life at the moment, she'd be the one that he'd complain to. Because, clearly Amita hadn't helped and Yuri was abso-fucking-lutely out of the question.

It was November now, and he'd felt helpless for nearly three-quarters of a year, and there was only so much that he could handle before he fucking lost it.

He threw himself into a chair at the kitchen table, Maya opposite him. "So baby brother, what's on your mind?" He resisted the urge to tell her that being born only three minutes earlier, didn't make him a baby. Instead, Otabek sucked him a deep breath, trying to center himself.

What was it that their mother had told them as children? It was easier to rip off a bandage off quickly. And so, the words just tumbled out of his mouth, everything-- about how he's loved Yuri for years, Amita and their relationship and then of course the bracelet, the fucking bracelet.

And Maya listened, without interrupting, just tapping her fingers lightly on the table as he literally vomited up all of his feelings in one go. When he was done, he was breathing heavily, cheeks red and ruddy, eyes shining.

"Feel better?" she asked. And he did, he really did. It was nice to get it out, to just let go. He nodded. "Good, because now I'm going to talk, and you are going to sit there and listen, got it?"

Maya wasn't like Amita. Amita teased wholeheartedly, but tended to hold punches when it came to advice. She'd give you quiet guidance, with the kind of patience usually seen in a mother. With Maya though, you had to brace yourself. She was brutally honest and could smack your ego around pretty hard. So, Otabek did as she said-- he sat there and just waited.

"You're a fucking idiot," she began with. "And I fucking wish Seung-Gil was here too--"

"I swear to god, if you utter a word to your husband, I will--"

"If only," she talked right over him, glaring, "to agree with me-- You didn't fool a fucking person. Everyone knows that you love Yuri, you knuckle head. It's not like you ever hid it well." And then she had the gall to roll her eyes. "I mean, come on."

Otabek moved to retort, but she held up a finger and continued. "But I get it. Traditional Muslim family, traditional Muslim values-- Amita made sense."

 Otabek wasn't devout by any standard, but their parents were. Years ago, all he'd wanted to do was make them happy. Proud. Something. "Amita made things easy," Otabek said quietly.

 "I know that you loved her," Maya said with the same tone.

 “Yeah, I did. I still do, I always will."

 "But it wasn't the same," she concluded. "It isn't."

 "No." Otabek paused to sigh. "Which is why I was relieved when Amita's bracelet wasn't tuned to me." He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the cool surface of the kitchen table. It was old and smooth, and offered comfort in its familiarity. "What the fuck do I do, Maya?"

 It was a rhetorical question, but of course she answered. "What do you mean, 'What do I do?' Obviously, you go to him. You fly your ass to Moscow and you show him that you're fucking meant for each other. Why is that even a question?"

 Well, when she put it like that, it seemed pretty fucking clever.

 But it was easy to think that things would just fall into place. With Yuri, there was one blaring problem-- and it was one that he had conveniently left out of his lengthy monologue earlier.

 "He doesn't want there to be anyone," he said quietly. A strange look crossed Maya's face, and he wasn't sure exactly what it meant.

 "What the fuck does that mean--"

 "It means that he wants to be alone. He doesn't want any distractions. He wants to focus on his life, and his career and--" He stopped when he saw the frown that crossed her face. "He isn't wrong, you know. He should focus on his career."

 "You know Beks, for once I wish you would be selfish," Maya finally said. "That you would just... do whatever you want, take what you need. Forget about other people-- fuck other people."

 "Maya--"

 "Instead you just coast on the easy side of things. You try and please everyone around you, because you have a problem doing things for yourself. Do you know why?"

 Otabek didn't have an answer for her, but he could tell that Maya wasn't surprised. She sighed lightly, pressing her fingers across her brows. "Because you're afraid," she concluded with. "You're afraid of being happy, because if your happy, what else do you have to live for?"

 "Maya--" he tried again, but she stopped by reaching out and grabbing his hand gently. Her fingers were soft, and she slipped them between his. Like they used to do when they were kids. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

 "Go to Moscow," she said. "Go to Moscow, and tell him that you love him."

 "It's not that easy," he said. "It's not that simple."

 "It's the easiest fucking thing in the world, when the other person loves you back."

 Otabek blinked at her words, slowly taking them in. He'd never considered that, he'd never considered that--

 Well. Their friendship was a little unconventional, when things were examined closely. What kind of close friends spent hours on skype calls with each other, doing nothing really. Or sleep in the same bed when they visited each other without a thought. They were particularly handsy and--

 He swallowed and Maya smirked, letting go of his hand to flick his forehead. "Yeah, never thought of that, did you?"

 No. No he hadn't.

 Maya stood from her seat, going to her kitchen cabinet. He watched as she pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a small glass-- perks of being married to someone non-Muslim. He said nothing as she poured him a glass, setting it down in front of him.

 "So, what are you gonna do?"

 He had no fucking clue, so he just tipped the glass down his throat. The alcohol burned the entire way down.

#otayuri #otabek and yuri #Otabek Altin #OtabekAltin/YuriPlisetsky #yoi otabek #yuri on ice fanfiction #Yuri Plisetsky #fanfiction #Yuri on ice #Otayuri smut

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #217

“roses are red, and my heart is black. we creep about the floor to indulge like rats.”

Do you know anyone who works in a laboratory? No. What was the very first social media site you signed up for? MySpace. Can you see yourself marrying your current partner? (if you have a partner) Easily. If you were in a coma, who would be making healthcare decisions for you? My mom. Are you the type of person who knows exactly what they want in life? Not entirely, but mostly. Do you have commitment issues? Not at all. What was the last thing you had an allergic reaction to? Silver. Have you gone out to dinner in the past week? No. What’s something you’ve done that sounds too crazy to be true? The only thing I think someone would actually find "crazy" would be I've been in a psychiatric hospital five or six times (I seriously can't remember). Are there any flowers planted outside your house? No. Well, not by us. There's a camellia tree by our back door that we didn't plant. What’s the weirdest decoration you’ve seen in someone else’s home? I'unno. I generally don't find decorations strange. Spice up your house with what you like. Did you have your own bathroom when you were growing up? No. Do you know anyone who never disciplines their children? I know of people. What’s the longest you’ve gone without leaving the house? Weeks. Are you more of a practical thinker, or more of an imaginative thinker? I think I can be on either end depending on the situation. Does anyone in your family smoke? My dad does. How well do you know your neighbors? I've never interacted with the ones to the right of us, but Mom knows the woman to the left, and she's apparently very nice. Mom was talking about her just the other day about how she always brings our trash can back to the fence, actually. How far are you into the book you’re currently reading? N/A Have you ever had a pet escape and run away? I don't believe so, at least not permanently. Do any of your exes know each other? Jason and Juan did. Girt and Jason know each other because of me; we all hung out a few times. It's both funny and sad now to know how friendzoned Girt was... ha ha. Sorry man. What’s an opinion you find impossible to take seriously? "Dinosaurs didn't exist." What the fuck are fossils then, bitch. What was the very first election you voted in? I haven't voted in any yet. Do you know how to make omelettes? No. I could probably figure it out, but I don't know for sure. What is your favorite summer month? Fuck summer. What do you want to be for Halloween this year? One of the witches from Hocus Pocus would be super cool, but yeah, I don't have the money to even try to make a costume. Do you have a desk in your room? If so, do you use it as a desk that you sit and work at? No. Do you wear band tees? if yes, which one is your favorite? Yes. I love my Metallica one. It's got a really cool design. Would you ever want to live in a home with all-white walls and furniture? "Not white furniture, no. That seems like it’d be a pain to keep clean." <<< Definitely. Do you have pajama days often? I'm literally always in pjs unless I have to leave the house and get out of the car. There's no point in changing otherwise; I'd just be creating more laundry. What is one thing you’re behind on? Instead of the usual "life in general" answer, I'll make it more interesting. RP. Jesus fucking holy Christ, I am over a year behind in SO MUCH because I just haven't had motivation, all the while plots have grown like mad. Thank god my partners are really damn patient, lol. And/or have other business, too. Do you ever re-arrange your room? No. I HATE moving/changing shit. Do you share a room with anyone? No. Who was your first roommate? Jason, Jacob, and Amanda. What season do you want to get married in? AUTUMN!!!!!!!! FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Frosting: chocolate or vanilla? Chocolate. Ice cream: chocolate or vanilla? Vanilla. Milkshake: chocolate or vanilla? Chocolate, more often. Do you drink protein shakes? EW that shit mad gross. What was the last type of candy you ate? Uhhhh what was it. I don't have candy a lot now, so uh... I think Airheads? What was the last craft project you completed? It was VERY weakly a "craft," but Sara's first Valentine's Day present. Which is better: starting things or finishing them? Finishing. I start things all the damn time and never finish them. What is the highest name-brand thing you own? Good question. What color GameBoy did you have as a kid? Red. What was your favorite GameBoy game? Hm. I liked a lot. We had a whole case of different ones. I suppose maybe the Spyro one I could never get far into. But I liked it anyway because yeah. Spyro. What was your favorite Backstreet Boys song? "The Call" probably tops the list, but also you're full of shit if you thought "Larger Than Life" wasn't a fuckin BANGER. Damn, "The Shape of My Heart" was great, too. BSB were/are just great, man. Did you ever wonder what it felt like to get slimed? Ha ha you mean like on Nickelodeon? Yup. Did you ever name a pet after an imaginary friend? I never had one. Do you believe in angels and demons? I don't know. I believe in spirits, but I don't know about actual angels and demons. Do you have a PayPal account? No. What race do you consider yourself? ... You can "consider" yourself a race? You don't get to pick that. Whatever, I'm Caucasian. Should unwanted animals in shelters be killed to make room? Fuck that shit. Should cows be killed for human food? See, this is why I want to return to vegetarianism. TECHNICALLY, no. It's murder upon a conscious, feeling, living being. But at the same time, humans are designed as omnivores, and surviving off of a plant-based diet is, sadly, extremely difficult. It's difficult to obtain the proper nutrients and their advised amounts to be healthy. Therefore, I can't confidently answer this question. I wish they didn't have to be, but human civilization would have an incredibly more difficult time continuing with all meat products removed for consumption. Does the technique used to kill an animal matter to you? I mean if I KNEW, yes, but at least from the research I've done, there's no real "humane" method used to kill livestock. Most live in awful conditions/are already unhealthy, too, and that should matter . Should farmers be allowed to cause suffering in animals to save money? Fuck off. Should production of medicines be justification to cause animals to suffer? No. We neeeeeeed to find other ways. Use pedophiles or some shit. Should violence against animals; such as rodeos/ bullfights be legal? Fuck to the hell no. I get some kind of dark pleasure out of hearing about shitheads being gored and stuff for it, honestly. Should homosexuals be allowed to work with children? This shit pisses me the fuck off. Of course they should be. Like I'm sorry, but your children aren't going to be hidden from them forever. Do you believe homosexuality is caused by genetics? Well yeah. You don't get to choose your sexuality; something has to be responsible. Are Americans are truly free, or suffering from controlled freedom? CONTROLLED FREEDOM JFC TRY TO DENY IT. Are there other countries that offer more personal freedoms? Not that I KNOW of. Like yeah, my above answer clearly states I think America could be better, but I don't know I place where it's actually better. Do you trust your government? Fuck no. They hide a lot of shit. Should religious beliefs outweigh science in the making of laws? Lolololololol no, hunny. Separation of church and state. What is one moment that you missed out on that you wished you didn’t? Hm. OH, that solar eclipse that happened I think last year? We saw nothing here. :< Do you or have you ever had braces? For a long time. Got them on, then didn't have the money to take them off for a while. Can you text? Yeah, but not quickly. I am - usually - very thankful for autocorrect. Have you ever had a nervous breakdown? OH BOY HAVE I!!!!!!!!!!!! What are you scared to death of? My mom dying, for one. I DO NOT know what would happen to me. Are you good at art? I'm told so at least; I'm aware I'm at least decent. It also depends on the art form. Are you afraid of needles? Nah. What TV show is the stupidest to you? I honestly had a really big problem (and have, if it's still even on) with the Teen Mom series. Yes, I do in fact believe it made looking like one cooler and more normal than it is. Do you hate being ignored? Yes; I start to think I'm not cared about, badly. Especially if it's family or "friends." Like no, I don't at all expect attention constantly, or even a lot of it, but I think it's only natural people who claim they love you should not pretend they don't know you, particularly when you actually reach out. THEN it hurts. Where do you currently live? North Carolina, please get me out. Do you like marijuana? I wouldn't know. Do you donate to charity? I can't. I seriously don't have money. Where is your favorite place to go out to eat? Olive Garden. What is your favorite TV station? Discovery. Do you think you’re clever? No. Did you wear socks today? No. I avoid wearing socks as much as I can. Know any magic tricks? I don't remember the ones I learned as a kid. Do you sleep well most nights? No. When’s the last time you baked a cake? Never. What’s your preferred frozen snack? Ice cream, yum. Do you work better in a clean or messy environment? CLEAN. It inspires me to do well and with an organized strategy. Do you know any vegans? I don't believe so. Earphones or headphones? I personally prefer earphones since they go into the ear and are just more comfortable than a weight on your head that can move easier. Do you like bananas? Yeah, but the timespan in which I enjoy them is short. They have to be "perfect." What’s a film you’ve seen that confused you? I know there are some, but none are coming to me curr- WAIT NO okay so I saw Warcraft when it came out into theaters, and I barely understood a single thing because the orcs' voices were way too deep. I need to rewatch it with subtitles. Do you ever wear black lipstick? I pretty much always do if I wear lipstick. What would you change about yourself appearance-wise? HEY can I Please fix my fucking weight??? Because I do like everything I can do already & nothing works??? :') How long do you normally spend in the shower? Just short of ten minutes, I think. If you were to get a tattoo, what would it say or what would the graphic be? *opens novel of ideas* Don't make me pick just one. When trick-or-treating as a kid, was there any kind of candy that you didn’t like to get? Tootsie rolls, ew. What is your favorite memory of Christmases past? The time my mom, sisters, and I went to a Christmas light show one night, and we got back to the car only to realize Mom left the keys in there. Sooo while we waited for my drunk dad and brother to come help us, we all chilled on the car's hood with chocolate covered peanuts and THE best hot chocolate. That place is no longer around, and I'll forever be mad tilted about it. What is the most outrageous thing you’ve done for God? Lmfao remember the days I denied evolution and gay rights? Them were the wild times. When you were in grade school, what did you want to be when you grew up? Why? First, paleontologist because I adored (and still adore) dinosaurs, then a vet as I wanted to help animals. In high school, it changed from movie director to game designer. Name the most famous person you’ve had a face to face encounter with. No one. If you could spend 15 minutes with any living person, who would it be and why? Um like have y'all ever heard of this guy named Mark Edward Fischbach because I have time to enlighten you of all the reasons- What article of clothing most closely describes your personality? Pj pants, lmao. Who was your hero when you were a child, and what did you do to be like them? Steve Irwin. I adore animals in general, push very firmly for conservation, and madly support proper education of wildlife, especially your local kinds. How did you learn to ride a bicycle? I had a bike with training wheels at first, then my dad took them off and would jog alongside me, holding the bars and then releasing them after a few moments for me to go on my own. Repeated 'til I got it! Based on something you’ve already done, how might you make it into the Guinness Book of World Records? This is going to be VERY embarrassing to share, but fuck it. I have so little reason to leave my bed that my legs have actually experienced muscle atrophy. My knees especially are extremely prone to awful pain when standing or walking. I don't really have a way to exercise in this tiny house, my road is too sketchy to walk along, and at least this time of year, I physically can't handle the heat if I was to walk in the back yard. I'm dying to go somewhere where I can swim to fix this shit. I could ramble on forever about how painful it is to be on my feet. I'd be happy enough with even just a treadmill. When was the last time you did something for the first time? What was it? Hm. I guess foreplay with a girl. I don't exactly experience new things much. What is your concept of a fruitful day? Actually doing productive shit. If you could rid the world of one thing, what would it be? Violence. What is your best personal characteristic? I am like, incredibly passionate. If I believe in something, you'll know. If I love something, it's to an insane degree. If you had to enter a competition for the “Most Uselessly Unique Talent,” what would your talent be? Being able to hide my thumb under my palm to where it looks like it's entirely non-existent lmao. What is your worst personality characteristic? I am VERY sensitive. I also have a hard time taking criticism without beating my ass up because I feel like I did something "bad." I don't get defensive, I just get hurt. Man, I could go on. There's a lot I don't like about myself. If you had to be a teacher of something, what would you teach? I'd be most interested in teaching science. How would you like to be remembered? I loved ferociously and spoke strong of peace. What is one thing that you constantly think about (other than material things)? The future. Does your country have free healthcare? *points at top five list of things America needs to fucking fix* Does your job allow visible tattoos? N/A How is your road rage? I drive so timidly and rarely that I don't think I really even have a clue. Who are your closest friends and how did you meet them? I'll exclude Sara as she's more than "a close friend." I don't have many close friends otherwise tho, so really... I think only Girt applies. We met in high school band. Well, then there's Alex, but considering she now acts like I don't exist as well, I don't know how close we really are. But anyway, we met in WoW because we were both camping the time-lost protodrake and talking w/ others in the general chat... but she and I really clicked. That was an awesome day. Started some damn adventures with her lmao. Are you still cool with any of your exes? The only two who may still have a problem with me are Jason and Tyler, but I have no bad feelings towards them. What Hogwarts House are you in? I took quizzes once for a survey because I was curious, but I couldn't answer most of the ones I found bc they had HP references I didn't get. But anyway, I think Hufflepuff and Gryffindor were pretty much tied. What’s the next special event in your life? Returning to school. :') Whose birthday is coming up soon? My nephew's. :''''') Do you delete people from Facebook if their views are vastly different than yours? It depends on the views and their severity. Usually I can handle averse opinions if you're actually a friendly person and composed and mature about what you believe and how you express that. What’s your favorite thing to put on bagels? Cream cheese. What’s the most important key on your key ring? I only have one, and that's to my house. What was the last argument you got in about and who was it with? AHAHAHAAHAHA okay so. There was a video on FB of a pet meerkat having its belly rubbed, and it was chirping happily. It was very cute, but especially because this video was on a big page, I commented how awful and unhealthy of an idea it is to have a pet meerkat for both it and yourself. It's illegal in a lot of places for good reason. I got a lot of agreement, but of course there was one imbecile who disagreed enough to tell me to shut the fuck up. Now I am normally very, very terrified of confrontation or even the HINT of it, but for once in my life I couldn't have been more unfazed. At what age did you start picking out your own outfits? I don't know. I've come to find via surveys that I can't really remember events by ages. How spicy do you like your food? Pretty spicy. Spicier than most like, but I don't enjoy it when it's just pure pain. What was the last really intense pain you felt? You know that awwwfuuuulll pinch of pain you sometimes get in your ribs when your lungs expand to a certain, small amount? That. I couldn't take deep breaths for anything. What is the best thing that’s ever happened to you? Recovery from the breakup. What are three things you have been a victim of? Uhhhh. Idk, nothing major. What is your passion? Wildlife conservation, probably more than anything. When was the last time you truly felt alive? Ha, good question. How many siblings do you have? Technically six, but I don't know one at all. Are you married? No. Are you dating someone? Yeah. If not, do you wish you were dating someone? N/A Do you want an indoor or outdoor wedding? I'm not sure. What states (or countries) have you lived in? Just one. Does your first crush know you liked them? No. Do you wish on stars? Nope. Are you happier now than you were 10 years ago? I don't know. I can't really remember exactly what I was like at 13. I think I'm maybe happier now? Are you happier now than you were 5 years ago? Yes. ^If not, why not? N/A ^If yes, why? My depression is under control. Do you live in your dream house? Definitely not. What was your first job? Sales clerk at GameStop. ^Did you like it? No, thanks to feral social anxiety. Have you been bullied? No, very thankfully. What do you wish people knew about you? I sincerely care about my loved ones, a lot, even though I have trouble being the one to reach out first. What health issues do you have? A lot. Don't even feel like putting them all together. Do you still cross paths with your first crush ever? No. What is your favorite Bible verse, and why? None. Do you have a secret nobody knows? Yes. It's nothing major, just little things I don't want to share. Who are some of the most selfish people you have ever met? I don't know. Is there anyone you want back in your life? Yes. What color was the house you grew up in? True shit, I somehow don't remember for sure. I think it was brick? What was the name of the first pet that you loved? Charcoal, a cat, was the first pet I had a serious, deep bond with. Do you receive more insults or compliments? Compliments, I guess. Do you meditate? No. Do you pray? No. Have you ever seen a spirit/ghost/shadowy figure, etc.? I've sure as hell seen something. What would you ask a genie for, if you had three wishes? World peace, end of disease, and the end of poverty. When someone messages you and you know it’s going to be rude, do you ignore it and not read it, or do you read it and reply? Honestly, most of the time, I ignore it. I am so, SO sensitive, so my feelings are super easily hurt by what others have to say. Do you find online drama stressful? Yes. Even more than irl drama because you have to wait painstakingly for them to reply, and you can't hear their tone of voice. How stressful is your life? I'm pretty damn stressed for someone who's trapped inside their house lmao. Was any of your home decor inspired by Pinterest? No. Do you do yoga? No. What is something you have tried and hated? Oral is NOT my jazz. Do you have regrets? Yeah. Are you mad at someone? No. What is this month’s calendar picture? I don't have a calendar. What is your last ex-boyfriend’s or ex-girlfriend’s name? Technically Donald. Do you have an ex-friend that you miss? Yep. What color do you want your wedding dress to be? Most likely black. Would you rather go out for pancakes or steak? Pancakes. I like them more in general, and I'm also suuuper picky with steak. What’s your favorite Ramen noodle flavor? The only kind I've ever liked is the Yakisoba brand of spicy chicken. How do you feel when you read the Bible, if you read it? Encouraged? Angry? I don’t read it. Have you ever suffered from anxiety? I had some anxieties as a little kid, and I was officially diagnosed with it in the 6th grade. Have you ever suffered from depression? Since the 7th grade. What is something a lot of people like but you don’t? Pie is what came to mind first. What’s an uplifting song you like to listen to? "High Hopes" by P!ATD. Think about the person you fell hardest for. Why do you think your feelings for this person were so strong? How is he/she different compared to everyone else you’ve had feelings for? Well, he was my first real love. They're always special. I was fucking crazy for him, and it grew to an unhealthy degree. Trust me, you can love too much. He made me happy when so few could back then, and we had a connection unprecedented in my whole life. He himself felt like my home. I could write you a goddamn novel on why I felt so strongly. Have you ever caught your friend cheating on their boyfriend/girlfriend? If you have, what did you do about it? If you haven’t, what do you think you would do? No. Quite honestly, I'd tell them. I could NOT keep that a secret. Whether they believe me or not, I'm not withholding that from them. When your last relationship ended, how long was it before you felt ready to think about being with someone else? I know this technically sounds bad, but Sara and I started dating the day after I broke up with him. One of the reasons we split is because I realized I liked her. It was so quick because I never had to "move on;" I never came to be truly interested in him romantically. Who was the last person you talked to before you went to sleep last night? Do you remember what you talked about? Sara and I were texting, but I don't remember about what. When are you at your happiest? When I'm with Sara. How many people have you kissed? Three or four. I don't really remember if I ever kissed Girt. How many of those people are you still friends with? Two. Where did you go, the last time you left your house? Mom and I went to multiple places. She had errands to run. Do you like your singing voice? Rarely. I think it fits only a few songs. Are most silences awkward for you? UH-HUH UH-HUH. Name someone you wish you had never met. Why? Jabari. He was scary and almost assaulted someone in my family. Who has the nicest singing voice, that you know personally? Probably Sara. Say something nice about someone you really don’t care for: He loves his kids to death. Ever won school awards? Yes. Do you drink more soda than anything else? Not anymore, thankfully. Do you curse a lot? I curse possibly more than anyone you know. Have you ever been in a courtroom? Yes. Do you eat a lot around Thanksgiving? No. I actually don't like 99% of Thanksgiving food. Were you a chubby child? No. Are you afraid to sing in front of people? Yes. Do you enjoy your family? Yeah. When did you last dance with someone? I forced Sara to last June lmao. Do you feel awkward watching sex scenes? VERY. Did you ever have senior photos done? No. Are your parents protective of you? Mom is for sure. I don't see my father much, and he's changed a LOT since the divorce, so I can't really answer for him. I know he is to some degree, I just don't know how much. Have you ever been bullied? I've had some mean shit said to me, but I don't believe I've ever really been consistently "bullied." Do you ever help decorate during the holidays? No. I just don't have the motivation and don't really care enough to put things up that're only coming down in two months. Do you have carpeted floors? Only my room and my sis's old one. Can you count to ten in another language? German, yeah. Have you ever been arrested? No. Do you always lock your door at night? Yeah. Do you get allowance? No, never did. Do you have a Facebook? Yes. Do you enjoy the presence of children? In most cases, no.

#survey #quiz #questions #random #bored

[missnight0wl]

jacob/mc discussions 1, 3, 10, 27, 29, and 30! :DDD

Thank you, Anon, and sorry it took a while!

1. Do you have any faceclaims for your MC andJacob?

I’m notgonna lie, I’m not very good at this: both at finding and staying committed tothem. Probably the only faceclaim I’m really attached to (in general) is CateBlanchett for Rakepick. But I gave it a shot now anyway.

For Helena,I picked Emily Rudd. I didn’t know her before, but I’ve found her whilesearching for “green eyes” - which is annoying because she has blue eyes, butoh well…. The rest fits pretty well: a bit wider nose, larger eyes.

Now forJacob, I was trying to search for someone who would be pretty close both to myimagination and to my pick for Helena. And I think it’s beyond my possibilitiesto find a better choice than Jake Gyllenhaal. Funny thing that he also has blueeyes instead of green ones, but other than that, it mostly checks. He’s alsonot ridiculously handsome, but he’scharming.

The onlything I would definitely change is hair, which I imagine more like OrlandoBloom maybe?

But hey,we’re talking about FACEclaim, right? So it’ll do.

3. What was Jacob’s friendship with Duncan andOlivia like? What was their dynamic before and during working for R?

Answeredhere!

10. What happened to Olivia Green? Is she anevil agent of R or was she wrongfully manipulated like Jacob?

Eh. Allright, so I have the whole theory about that, and you can find it here. It willneed some adjusting, but considering the currently released content of thegame, you can say it’s still what I believe in.

Butoverall, I don’t think she’s truly evil. I believe she was manipulated likeJacob, and she was desperate. This might’ve pushed her in the wrong direction.Did she end up more mad than Jacob allegedly is? Perhaps.

27. Does MC/Jacob have any interest in learningany non-human languages? (Mermish, gobledegook, etc.)

To behonest, I haven’t thought about it. Jacob – possibly. Their mother, Alice,works in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, so she took careof their children learning a foreign language. Both Helena and Jacob knowFrench quite well, but that’s pretty much it. So I think they’d rather expandtheir knowledge on human languages first.

Oh, andthey definitely tried to learn some Magical Creatures’ callings from Newt! It’snot exactly the same, but you know 😉

29. How would MC/Jacob go about flirtingwith/asking out someone? What would be the ideal circumstances, and how wouldit actually probably go?

Oh boy… So Jacobhad a problem with this because he wasn’t always aware that his behaviour mightbe seen as flirting. He just didn’t quite understand how his charisma influencesother people. This was pretty much what caused his conflict with Olivia. He wasbasically blind to her signals until she tried to kiss him. But he was justnice, this is how people interact, right? This experience made him a bit moreaware though (kind of…). When he started returning Angelica Cole’s feelings, he was morecareful. Still, it didn’t go far because of the Vaults, and technically, Jacobdidn’t even have a chance to ask anyone out on a real date before hisdisappearance. After that, he isn’t really interested in romance for a longtime. He met Angelica once or twice, but their lives just went in too differentdirections.

Helenadoesn’t really share her brother’s problem, possibly because of her cursed kidstigma, but she also doesn’t really try to actively flirt. Her first “real”crush was Chester, but let’s be honest – it was pretty much as serious as withIndiana Jones. Then, there was Bill, but she wouldn’t dare to even let him knowshe had some deeper feelings for him. It didn’t last long anyway. By the end ofthe third year, she was quite determined to focus entirely on the CursedVaults. However, in the fourth year, she got closer to Charlie. He just wasthere for her when she needed him, and she wanted to be there for him. He helpedher a lot during this time, especially after Ben’s attack. At first, shethought it’s just a very close friendship, but then she started to question her emotions, and she even shared her concerns with Rowan. Still,she doesn’t really feel the need to change things between them. She’s basicallygoing with the flow, and just appreciates Charlie’s presence. Every now andthen someone will jokingly tell them to stop flirting, but she doesn’t quitesee it like that. Similarly, with going out – yeah, they’re going out alone,but they always have?

So yeah, theEllis siblings can’t really into romance. It’s just complicated, and theirlives are complicated enough already. They do need close relationships, but it’s easier to let things be. And I supposeHelena simply got luckier with that so far. I hope it makes sense.

30. Do you have any songs that remind you ofMC, Jacob, and/or their relationship? Do you have a playlist? Would you mindlinking me to that playlist?

I did theMusic Challenge for that a while ago, and you can find it here!

#hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm mc #jacob's sibling #helena ellis #charlie x mc #hphm jacob #jacob ellis #olivia green #faceclaim #mc asks #jacob asks #anonymous

[stealth-spiderr]

keep laughing // h.o.

guys!! here’s my entry for @gab-spidey ‘s writing challenge!! i went with haz this time round bc i had an idea already and it fit really well with the prompt “why are you like this?” so here we are. i tried to catch all the mistakes and shit but yeah who knows if i did rip

summary // Harrison drags you to boys night and few beers and longing stares make for one hell of a night

pairing // bestfriend!harrison x reader

warnings // lil bit of drinking and a couple of swears and a lot of feelings

word count // 1,798

Harrison has his arm thrown over your shoulder to almost literally drag you to the front door of his and Tom’s place, making any efforts to get away entirely tedious. That doesn’t stop you trying though. You dig your fingers into your best friend’s ribs and he jumps away from you with a shout and you take the opportunity to turn and run. Unfortunately you don’t get far before Haz grabs you by the waist, letting his fingers dance around your sides sending you into a fit laughter.

See it was boys night, and Haz had invited you to join, insisting you were practically one of the boys anyway, but you didn’t want to intrude. Especially because a lot of the time you tagged along to their hang outs, you wanted to let them have time without you, much to Harrison’s dismay. So here he was, running half an hour late because of your stubbornness, tickling you to the ground a few feet from the door. You’re both yelling at each other, you for him to stop tickling you (but honestly it doesn’t come out coherent at all because of your laughter), and Harrison for you to stop being a stubborn little shit.

By this point everyone inside had heard the commotion and were watching on from the doorway, unbeknownst to you and Haz.

“You’re sure they aren’t together, right?” Jacob asked.

“They’re always saying they aren’t but then they do shit like this,” Tom answered.

You’ve dropped to the ground by this point, Haz straddling your thighs so you can’t get away while he continues tickling you. Obnoxious laughter from both of your echos through the street

“They’re gonna wake up the whole neighbourhood with that racket,” Harry mutters.

“No one is asleep at 7 o’clock, Harry,” Sam says.

“Should we let them know we’re here?” Jacob asks.

“No, no,” Harry stops Tom as he goes to step forward. “Just let them expel their energy and then they’ll fall asleep and we won’t have to deal with… well whatever that is.”

Tom shrugs and the four of them linger for a minute before heading back inside, knowing you and Haz would come in when you were ready.

A couple of minutes later you finally cave, mostly because you can’t breathe anymore. You sputter out some words to get Harrison to stop his actions, he stills his fingers but keeps a firm grip on your waist.

“Are you going to come inside now?” He questions.

You nod, coughing a little while you try to regulate the air flow to your lungs. Once you have, Haz stands and pulls you up with him, bringing you practically chest to chest, the close proximity not uncomfortable for either of you. You end up just looking into his unfathomably blue eyes, while stares back into yours.

“You’re doing that thing again,” he whispers.

Your gaze drops down to his lips as he speaks before meeting his eyes again. “What thing?”

“That thing where you get lost in my ocean eyes.”

“Yeah, okay.” You push his face away, trying to hide a smile while he laughs at his words.

You jog to the door, Haz following behind, and open it without knocking. Tom was expecting Haz at least anyways, and he wouldn’t knock on his own door. You both head straight through to the lounge room, where Tom, Jacob, Sam, and Harry are sprawled over the couch. Tessa jumps off Sam’s lap and runs over to you before you could even think about squeezing on to the couch. So you sit down where you are to pat Tessa for a bit but by the time you hop up to join everyone on the couch you can see they haven’t left room for you.

“Guys, move over,” you whine.

They all shush you and keep their focus on the tv, Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle playing on it. You scurry over and sit on the floor in front of Harrison, who presses his legs flush against your arms once you’re comfy. No one moves for the rest of the film apart from Tom getting up to get beers for everyone when they needed refills. Jacob goes to bed after Jumanji finishes, whinging about jetlag, so the remaining five of you rearrange to fit on the couch. Haz takes one end with you next to him, Harry beside you followed by Sam and then Tom at the other end. Thor Ragnarok plays next, and with all of you being buzzed you find everything extra funny and complain about your stomachs being sore.

“I’m going to have a six pack from laughing so much tonight,” you giggle into Haz’s shoulder.

He raises an eye brow at you. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, and it’s gonna be better than yours.”

He gasps dramatically before tickling you, you squeal and try to get away but he pulls you onto his lap as your laughter gets louder. The three Holland’s are glaring daggers at you both, actually wanting to watch the movie. Haz notices after a few seconds and covers your mouth, smiling apologetically until you lick his hand.

He gives you a glare. “Gotta be quiet, ya div. They’re trying to watch the movie.”

“But I’m not,” you whine. “You’re more fun than the movie and I want want your full attention.”

“You’ve got it, love.”

His eyes lock with yours and your jaw slacks a little. His eyes reflect the changing colours from the tv but you can feel the intensity of his stare, like there’s nothing else in the room that matters. You quickly snap your mouth shut with a sharp breath, hoping Haz didn’t notice you ogling him, but you can’t bring yourself to break your gaze from his. You almost don’t notice him gripping your hips and turning you on his lap to face him properly, you don’t notice yourself making it easier by moving your legs to straddle him. You almost don’t notice your firm grip on his shoulders softening and moving inwards until they reach his neck, gently sliding up and cupping his face. All the while, his grip on your hips was tightening, tugging you forwards slightly hoping to suggest to you to move on his crotch.

Before anything else can happen, you both crack up at a line from the movie. Not matter how intense the moment was, hearing the line “oh, my god, the hammer pulled you off?” never failed to make you laugh. Your head dropped onto Harrison’s shoulder as he threw his back as you both laughed. After a minute you lifted your head from the crook of his neck as he brought his head up again, and it was like you hadn’t been interrupted. The only difference was the your noses were brushing slightly, and you could both smell the beer from each other’s breath.

“I’m doing that thing again,” you mumble.

Haz’s eyes flick down to your lips as he wets his own. “Mmm? What thing?”

You run a hand up into his hair and tug slightly, making his eyes meet yours again.

“That thing where I get lost in your ocean eyes.”

Without missing a beat, one of his hands grips the back of your neck and he crashes his lips to yours. You both moan, relishing the new feeling of your lips moving together as if they were always supposed to. His tongue grazed you bottom lip and you sighed into him as his tongue met yours. It felt like every good memory you and Harrison had rolled up into one perfect moment.

A moment that you ruined.

By laughing.

It wasn’t a bad laugh, it was an I’m-so-happy laugh, but regardless Haz pulled back from you and frowned.

“Am I that bad a kisser?”

“No, no, of course not! That wasn’t wasn’t a judging laugh, it was an oh-shit-this-is-what-I’ve-been-missing laugh. I’m sure there’s a difference. I didn’t mean to laugh, I’m sorry, I’m in a giggly mood and I’m happy and your amazing and your eyes are amazing and I think kissing you is fantastic and-”

“If I here another sound from you, (Y/N), I swear I will wake you up with an ice bath,” Harry threatens.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Haz almost growls.

He pushes up carefully backwards until you realise he wants to get up, you stand quickly and he follows swiftly before entwining your fingers and leading you out of the room towards his bedroom.

You’re both silent as you enter his room, you don’t know what to say and neither does he. It’s as if you’ve taken a thousands steps back, like you don’t know each other. Haz flops onto his stomach on his bed and groans loudly into his pillow before turning his head to you.

“Did we just mess everything up?” he asks, worry filling his eyes.

“I take full responsibility, I laughed while we were making out. What kind of weirdo does that?”

You sigh and collapse onto your back beside him, leaving a gap that’s unusually large for the two of you. You stare up at the plain white ceiling as you feel Haz shuffle closer to you, you stop breathing as his breath fans across your face. He peppers soft kisses over your cheek, you feel his hand grip your hip as you subtly turn your body to him but you freeze when his lips meet the corner of your mouth.

“My weirdo does that,” he murmurs against you.

A smile twitches on your lips. “You bet she does.”

Haz moves his head above yours and kisses you properly, or at least tries to because you’re giggling again. He trails kisses down your neck instead, half hoping it’ll stop your laughter, half hoping for you to never stop laughing. It isn’t long before he realises he’s mostly just tickling your neck so he flips you both over, his arms securely holding you flush against his entire body.

“Oh, my god, why are you like this? Are you ever gonna stop laughing?” he questions, he’s not complaining in anyway, the wide grin on his face was proof enough for that.

“Maybe, if you try harder,” you tease.

He kisses you again, tongue immediately finding yours as his arms unlock from around you and wander downwards, gently squeezing your ass.

“How far,” he starts, breaking the kiss to say a few words at a time, “are we… gonna go… right now?”

You break the kiss only to trail your lips down the side of his neck, biting and sucking on the spot where it meets his shoulder. You don’t relent until you’re sure it’ll leave a disastrous bruise and then you finally answer him.

“As far as you’ll take me.”

let me know if you wanna be tagged or don’t wanna be xo tag list // @tomsfireheart // @tomhoellandb // @laucontrerasv // @spidey-pal // @paper-goonie // @hottrashformarvel // @gayvodkatour // @webfluihd // @starksparker // @h-osterfield // @upsidedownparker // @shuriismyqueen // @spideymood //@thewiseandfree // @stephie-senpai // @bi-writes // @peters-vlogs // @noneighborhood // @caloe-vera // @starlightfound // @lafayettes-baguettes-1 // @lemirabitur // @lilleone //

#gabs2kwc #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield x reader #bestfriend!haz #bestfriend!harrison #harrison osterfield au #bestfriend au #em writes

[outranks]

for the fc5 prompts! 15 and/or 32!

#fic stuff #cosmosmedica #my writing #fem!dep/jacob