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hops-hunny · 3 years

Text

Hello?

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Black!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Request: N/A

Summary: Neville and (Y/n) get high together often.

Warnings: drugs( weed lmao), swearing, making out

A/N: This was based on the specific lyric below from Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. Pothead confident Neville is my favorite headcanon dfregfefe. I also felt like writing for Neville bc after reading a lot of @lxngbottom‘s fics I was DEEPLY inspired.

“Are you into me, like I'm into you?

Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?

You're so close, and yet so far

I wonder how you look when you're in the dark”

The Weasley siblings all found themselves in absolute bliss when their parents told them they were going on a getaway. Apparently Arthur had learned about muggle spas and thought it’d be a lovely idea to take his wife to one for a much needed vacation after many years she had been caring for her children (and sometimes their guess) without barely any breaks. The gaggle of gingers all found it to be quite a wonderful idea too, but for other reasons. Although they had varying reasons of why they were excited for their parents to leave the house, Ron’s being wanting to invite over the other ⅔ members of the Golden Trio, Ginny wanting to wear that skirt that her mum always told her was ‘just a tad too short, dear’, and lastly Fred & George wanting to try out new and exciting inventions there was that one thing that tied them all together: wanting to get blazed out of their fucking minds.

However, as quickly as that mischievous glint formed in all their eyes, their mother said something they all dreaded.

“Oh and by the way, we’re leaving Percy in charge!”

A collective groan was shared as the boy in question held a proud and cocky smirk that once again, he was the most trusted out of his siblings. However as per usual, Fred and George were not giving up that easily.

“What are we going to do?! You know Percy will rat on us!” Ron whispered yelled at the other three through gritted teeth. They all sat around the quaint little living room, distressed at what to do. Ron had already sent a text (is that what they were called? He wasn’t used to the muggle technology (Y/n) had got them all to use) to both Hermione and Harry telling them to pack their bags. He’d never live it down!

“Oh relax dear brother of mine! Me and Freddie here suspected something like this would happen so we came prepared. Right Fred?” George said with a smirk as he looked to his twin to the right of him. George nodded before pulling out an envelope.

“Exhibit A also known as ‘Blackmail dear Percival Into Leaving the House for the Summer.” he grin grew wider as he opened the envelope pulling out the photos. In the photos, Percy was shirtless during a party in the gryffindor common room. He had a half drunk bottle of fire whiskey in one hand and a blunt in his other which was held to his lips. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if dear ol’ mum and pop anonymously got pictures of their golden boy doing such awful acts?” he cooed, feigning a voice of disappointment.

“While you two idiots may not be helpful for jack shit else, leave it up to you to have a plan to get into trouble.” Ginny said rolling her eyes, a small smile forming on her face. “Well I guess that’s settled then. I’ll hit up (Y/n), Ron you hit up Nev and tell him to bring the loud. Lots of it too!”

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

That’s how they all ended up where they are currently. ‘Exhibit A’ was more than enough to get Percy packing his bags and leaving for a friends house after their parents had left. And of course, Hermione, Harry, (Y/n), and Neville had all shown up at the Burrow bright and as happy as ever.

Although many people dealt around Hogwarts, Neville’s weed was always the best. He grew custom strains which were infused with other magical plants that had all sorts of properties. You wanted it to taste and smell like cheesecake? Done. Something odorless that packed a mean punch? Also done. He took good care of his product and went through the precautions to make sure it was not only safe but also that he didn’t get caught. He wasn’t always an avid weed smoker though. Originally, a friend had suggested it to him to help with his anxiety which had increased over the years but eventually it became less of an anxiety reducer and more of a favorite pastime. And hell, it left him with a pretty fucking nice amount of galleons in his pocket. It was also how he had met her.

He looked up at her form as she sat across the shed, looking as radiant as ever. She was laughing at something but he didn't know what over the sound of the music. One of his favorite things about her was how beautiful the whiteness of her smile was in comparison to her rich brown skin. It drove him absolutely nuts. It had only been a few weeks since he last saw her but as usual there was something new about her appearance.

He let his eyes wander over the work of art that was (Y/n). Her hair was different, her usual shoulder length black box braids had been swapped our for a beautiful set of honey blonde faux locs that stopped at her waist. In addition to her septum, she now had a nose ring on the left side of her nose and- was that a smiley piercing? Her skin was glowing vibrantly under the different hues of gold of LED lights that corresponded with the music. His eyes shifted down to her chest. 'Hm, she finally got the other one pierced' he noted due to the fact that her crochet bikini top left only the best bits of her breast to the imagination. And then he got to his favorite part. Her legs. Her supple, plush, smooth as glass legs. This wasn’t the first time he had stared at them longer than needed. He couldn’t help it, they were so fucking thick. And, were those his shorts? She must've stolen them from him last smoke sesh. He didn't mind though, she pulled off those denim shorts well and they hugged her in all the right fucking places.

“Bloody hell Nev, what’s taking you so long to roll the joint? Are you already that gone?” Ron groaned as he threw his head back. Neville looked down at the half rolled blunt in his hands, continuing to lick and roll it skillfully.

“Shut up Ron, just hit the fucking bong and leave Neville alone. Ol’ dramatic ass.” there was that honeysuckle voice he loved. God he could listen to her talk for fucking hours. I mean he had before. Her voice was sweet in the center and rough around the edges, a thick american accent still prominent in her voice. He smiled at that, looking up at her to find her already looking at him. As he continued to roll, he licked a fat strip on the wrap before shooting her a wink.

“Thank you, petal.” he murmured quietly knowing she hadn’t heard as he looked back down at his hands finishing up. He grabbed the same lighter that he carried with him everywhere before lighting the end. As he was about to take a hit, a certain pair of gloss coated lips leaned over his shoulders taking a hit as she wrapped her arms around his upper half.

Ron groaned again in irritation. “I hate it when you get the first hit! You always leave that damn sticky shit all over the blunt.” as he glared at the girl. She giggled before crawling off the wraparound couch taking her place next to brunette ruffling his long shaggy hair. He had been growing it out recently for no particular reason (definitely not the girl to his right).

“Ron you always buggin on something, nigga shut the fuck up! That’s why when you hit the blunt you leave it wet. Ol’ soppy mouth nigga I swear to god. Share with Mione.” she retorted as she leaned into Neville’s side looking up at him. He smiled down at her before wrapping his arm around her bringing her impossibly close. They both loved each other's touch when they were high. Whenever he’d touch her in one spot, (Y/n) always felt it in another- especially between her legs. She leaned up, kissing his freckled cheek with a smile. “Hey sir, how’s my favorite doing today?” she questioned as he bent down, placing a kiss right below her ear.

“You know I’m always content when you’re next to me, flower. You don’t even have to question it.” he whispered in her ear before pulling back. She felt her face heat up as she rolled her eyes shoving him lightly. She crawled in his lap, straddling him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He instinctively moved one to her waist, stroking the smooth exposed sepia skin that was there for his enjoyment.

“You always talking some mess, Nev. Why don’t you do something bout it?” she said, motioning for him to hold the blunt up to her lips. He ignored her, looking into her eyes as he took a fat rip. He removed his hand from her waist, gripping her cheeks with it, rings digging into her skin. He leaned impossibly close as he shot gunned the smoke into her mouth. His lips hovered impossibly close to hers. ‘Finally’ she found herself thinking as she closed her eyes. However, the feeling of his soft pink lips never hit hers and she opened her eyes to find him smirking at her.

“And ruin this little game we have? Never.” He said, finally passing the blunt to her. If he had to be honest with himself, he was scared shitless. He was afraid if he actually did make that final move, jumped that final obstacle that she would be gone from his life. Sure, they made out all the time. It was normal for the two of them to get quite handsy with each other during smoke sessions but he found not even that being enough. He didn’t just wanna have his hands on her when he was high or wasted out of his fucking mind, he wanted her all the time. He wanted to sneak into each other's dorms and cuddle till wee hours of the morning. To carry her things to class for her. He wanted to live, breathe, and sleep (Y/n). But, is that what she wanted? He never knew.

She sighed softly to herself, contemplating. It was very apparent to her that Neville wanted her just as badly as he wanted her. So, why had he never jumped the gun? Did he not want more? Was he really content with this little cat and mouse game they had? He couldn’t be, she knew who he was at heart which was a romantic just as she was. She was pulled from her thoughts as she heard the familiar beat of Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. She smirked at him, leaning her forehead against his as she began to grind softly on his lap.

“Are you into me? Like I’m into you. Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?” she sung to him softly, her (e/c) eyes meeting his hazel ones. He moved his hands up and down her body as she continued to grind her hips down on his. He let his hands travel to her ass, gripping it firmly. She leaned back slightly as she hit the blunt before returning the favor he had earlier. “You’re so close, and yet so far. I wonder how you look when you’re in the dark.” (Y/n) continued singing as kissed up his neck, nibbling at the junction of his jaw and neck. He took one of the hands from her ass, moving some of the locs that had fallen into her face. He quickly tossed the blunt out of her hand into the ashtray in the table in front of them before leaning in and kissing her with such strong intensity.

The honey blonde haired girl moaned softly, already putty in the boy’s hands. Neville always knew exactly what to do with his hands. Where to kiss, where to tug, where to bite. Anything but actually dealing with the problem between her legs. She tangled her hands into the back of his hair, matching his lip movement. As he continued holding her ass with one hand, he used his other to stroke her cheek gently. A stark contrast to the kiss they were in which was wet, rough, and fast. He trailed his tongue over her lip which she gladly accepted. Their tongues danced together lazily as sweat began to build up on both of them. She pulled away partly, a trail of spit connecting them.

“Take this dumb ass jacket off. It’s the middle of July.” She grumbled as she began to unzip it, leaving him in some muggle band shirt she had gotten him one year from the states. She leaned back in, continuing to move her hips to the beat of the song. Neville began to move his hips up to match her movements. “Oh? So you got moves now huh? Who taught you those?”

“Don’t play dumb petal, you know you did.” He responded before gripping at her neck with his ringed hand. She gasped softly, looking into his blood shot blown out eyes. The music, the lighting, his touch? It was all much too much to handle. Her senses were overloaded by pleasure, the jane in her system. He tightened his hand some, leaning in closer. “You’re driving me absolutely mad, darling. Do you know that? I’d do anything you asked me to.” the movement of her hips had stilled but he kept going. She could feel the imprint of his member through his pants. Suddenly it was the only thing (Y/n) could focus on.

“Them Ravenclaw girls weren’t lying then, huh? You packin like that Nev?” she said suddenly. She knew he had asked her something a second ago, but the weed was really starting to hit. Her brain was foggy and hazed, the only thing she could think about now was him. She took one of her manicured hands, trailing it down his shirt till she reached his crotch. She gripped it in her hands, eyes widening slightly. He chuckled softly, catching her attention.

“Don’t act so surprised. You know I used to get around quite a bit.” He said, moving so his tent was resting against her inner thigh.

“Used to?” she questioned, laying her head on his shoulder with her eyes closed. She took in his scent sighing softly. Neville always smelled like a mix of lavenders, cologne, and that loud. She knew it from anywhere, especially when she smelled it in the amortentia they brewed during potions that one time.

“Yeah I don’t really pipe girls like I used to.” He moved his hands up, embracing her close as he kissed the top of her head. “Ever since a certain pesky little American girl started making their way into my life, she’s all I could think about.” she rolled her eyes some, punching him on the arm as he began to laugh.

“Don’t fuck around like that, that shit aint even funny.” she grumbled, pouting as she crossed her arms. “I thought you had an actual answer!”

“On god that was my actual answer, (Y/n)! You asked why and I told you why. Absolutely anyone could tell I’m mad for you.” Neville said as he uncrossed her arms, holding her small delicate hands in his large ones. He intertwined their hands, her sharp acrylic nails digging into his hands slightly. “Did you know when Keaton Willis asked you to Hogsmeade, I was so mad that I wouldn’t sell to him for 3 months?!”

“But I didn’t even go with him! Me and you went together to go get ice cream, remember?”

“So?! He still fucking asked you. I’m getting heated just thinkin’ about it.” He mumbled as he looked away from her. He pulled her closer, resting his head on the top of hers. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you dating such a loser. He’s not even a good guy and he’s always fucking short with his galleons when he buys. I have to practically hound the guy for my money. Yknow what? Fuck it.” he looked up at the brown skinned girl before holding her face in both his hands. He took in her features. Her plump lips, edges laid to perfection, face ‘beat to the gods’ as she would say. “Go out with me. Be my girl, petal. I can’t bear you not being mine for another second.” he said. She pretended to ponder for a bit before she looked back at him.

“Depends, will I get free weed? I expect free weed from dating the weed man, you know.” she said with a giggle. He rolled his eyes shaking his head.

“You already get free weed! Don’t pretend you don’t.” he said loudly, catching the others’ attention.

“What? Nev that’s not fair! You always make me pay and we’re mates! What happened to bros befo-”

“Ron you finish that and you ain’t leavin this shed with an eye, I can promise you that boy.” she whipped her head around quickly, glaring at the boy. Ron quickly shut his mouth knowing first hand that her promises were never empty. He gulped slightly before nodding, turning back to Hermione who handed him the bong muttering something about how he looked like he needed it.

“But to answer your question, Nev baby, I’d love to be your girl. Nothing would bring me greater pleasure than doing so.” (Y/n) leaned forward, leaving a lip gloss print on his cheek.

“Well I’m glad you said yes because it would’ve been very awkward explaining to everyone tomorrow where that hickey on your neck came from.”

“Nev!”

#black reader #black!reader #poc reader #poc!reader #Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x you #neville x you #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter

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startanewdream · 3 years

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Teenage behaviour

For @sweeethinny ‘s amazing prompt: ‘Instead of Harry seeing Molly's boggart, he sees Lily's, and faces him and his father dead on the floor, while his mother panics’.

Thanks again for this prompt! I always love to explore Lily and Harry’s relationship!

Read on AO3 or below the cut:

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Harry's smile doesn't reach his eyes.

Lily has been stealing glances in his direction all night, ever since she got home from her shift, and even though he is talking and eating and acting normal, she can see there is something restrained about him.

She looks around, trying to understand what is dampening his mood - not that it would need much lately, but still, he should be more thrilled about returning to Hogwarts tomorrow, especially considering their fear that he would be expelled. Everything seems normal, though. The kitchen is full of people talking and drinking, enjoying that last-minute party, and everyone's mood seems better than usual. She sees Ron listing the qualities of his new broom to Tonks, while Hermione is talking with Remus about her project of rights for house-elves. Both Ron and Hermione are still beaming because of today’s news.

She raises her eyes to the banner Molly hanged over the dinner table. That brings a warm smile to her lips; Molly had sounded more cheerful than Lily had seen her all summer when she had told proudly of Ron being made a prefect.

Then her eyes fall on Harry again. He is looking wistfully at the banner, with just a hint of guilt shining in his eyes.

Understanding hits her.

He wanted to be a prefect.

That doesn't make much sense for her, considering how Harry always inspired himself in James and how much Harry doesn’t seem to particularly care for authority figures, but there is disappointment and hurt in his eyes, no matter how much he tries to hide it.

Maybe it was some expectation that Dumbledore would choose him? Or he feels that people don’t trust him anymore? Or maybe he is feeling like he let his parents down for not being a prefect?

Whatever it is, she will have to do something about it. This would be easier if James was there that night - Harry does have a tendency to always hear whatever his dad says -, but since he is away on Order duty tonight, Lily will handle it alone.

She looks around once more before locating Sirius and Ginny talking animatedly to each other; they are close enough to Harry so he will be able to hear them talking, so she approaches them.

‘Aubrey’s head was twice the normal size’, Sirius is saying, opening his hands to emphasize it, almost hitting Lily. ‘Oh, sorry, Lily’.

‘No harm done’, she says lightly. ‘Are you telling the infamous balloon head prank?’

‘I will let you know it’s one of the best Marauders pranks to date’, Sirius replies, seeming very proud of himself.

‘Don’t believe him, they originally wanted Aubrey’s head to shrink’, she tells Ginny conspiringly, making Ginny smirk. ‘And they didn’t even try to hide it, it led them directly into detention. No wonder you never made prefect’.

She knows Harry is looking in their direction, but she pretends to not notice.

‘Can you imagine, you and James as prefects?’

Sirius shudders, putting his hands over his heart and looking properly scandalous, just as Lily knew he would be.

‘We would never! Plus we would have to give ourselves detentions on a daily basis’.

‘Like Remus ever gave you any’, she scoffs playfully.

‘Well, he could turn a blind eye on us sometimes. Ok, most of the time’, Sirius concedes when Lily just raises her eyebrows. ‘But I remember a certain Head Girl doing the same’.

Lily laughs shamelessly.

‘If I didn’t catch you, how could I do anything? And with James as Head Boy, you certainly learned to avoid being caught’.

‘It sure helps when your best friend is Head Boy and decides the patrolling routes’, Sirius agrees, grinning.

‘Hang on’, Ginny says, frowning. ‘James was a Head Boy? Your James?’

Lily sees Harry joining their circle and she smiles to herself.

‘Yeah, we were as shocked as you when we found out’, says Sirius dramatically.

‘But he wasn’t a prefect -’

‘Head Boy and Head Girl may have been prefects, but if the headmaster thinks someone else should be, he can choose’, Lily explains. ‘It doesn’t matter whether you were a prefect or not, as long as you are responsible and trusting, really’.

‘You know, that was the only time I really considered telling Dumbledore we were animagi - we couldn’t let him think James was responsible -’

‘Come on’, Lily says fairly. ‘He had improved a lot by our seventh year, it made sense he would be a Head Boy’.

‘Oh, don’t tell my mum that’, Ginny pleads in a hushed whisper. ‘There is no way I will be a prefect next year, but then she might hope I get sense enough to be a Head Girl’. Ginny turns to Harry, shaking her head in fake panic, and Harry lets out an amused laugh.

They all laugh then, and Lily feels good when she sees Harry is more relaxed now as if remembering his father wasn’t prefect either is enough to raise his spirits.

She doesn’t say it and she doesn’t really mind, but she thinks Harry could be a Head Boy in a couple of years. Harry does have the leadership she saw in James in their last year at Hogwarts, even if he doesn’t mind breaking the rules now and then. But if he is not chosen, that will be fine for her too.

Lily hopes Harry understands this.

She shares a drink with Sirius, who is still telling adventures of the Marauders to Ginny, while keeping an eye on Harry. He drifts off to talk with Fred and George and Mundungus - a trio that speaks of trouble for her -, then he leaves them to sit on a chair, pretending to be busy drinking a butterbeer. His face is troubled once more and Lily resists the urge to sigh.

Harry’s changes of mood are more erratic than she can deal with these days. She always thought Death Eaters and bigotry would be the biggest challenges in her life, but now she thinks understanding teenage behaviour is much more difficult.

She throws a sympathetic look at Molly, who is yawning now, admiring the fact that Molly dealt with that seven times.

‘Oh, sorry, Lily’, Molly says, flushing. ‘I just woke up so early today…’

Lily smiles.

‘Go get some rest, Molly. I patch things up here later’. And when Molly opens her mouth, looking worried, Lily smiles. ‘I won’t let them stay up late, I promise’.

‘Thank you, dear. I am really tired… I’ll just sort out that boggart before I turn in -’

‘No, no, let me’, Lily offers. ‘Is that thing shaking the cabinet in the drawing room?’

‘Yes, Alastor confirmed to me tonight it’s a boggart’.

‘That’s on me then. Go rest’, Lily insists. ‘You already made too much today - helping to sort out that last-minute shopping list, this nice dinner. I’ll handle the boggart later, I will have to wait for James to come home anyway’.

Molly looks at her with a knowing expression.

‘I can never sleep before Arthur returns too’, she murmurs, and Lily is familiar with the fear shining in Molly’s brown eyes.

‘Everything is going to be okay’, she says calmly, even though they both know it is an empty promise.

Molly bides her good night and Lily watches her go.

It really must be more difficult for her, Lily thinks. Seven children, one of them not talking with the family, and Molly already lost her two brothers in the first war. That makes the Weasley braver than her and James, she ponders; they aren’t hunted. They are choosing to be part of this war.

They really are the best family. She thanks silently the day Harry decided to sit together with Ron on the Hogwarts Express.

Speaking of her son, Mad-Eye is talking to him, showing him something, and even though Alastor looks as delighted as he can be, Harry seems to be sick.

Lily turns in his direction, determined to fix the situation again, but before she can reach them, Sirius distracts Mad-Eye and Harry escapes, crossing the kitchen in quick steps and slipping through the door before anyone can talk to him.

Great.

She walks to Mad-Eye and sees he is showing around an old photograph of the first Order of the Phoenix, that finally comes to her hand. Lily looks at herself, smiling hand-in-hand with James, and is startled to see how young they both look. Well, not just them. Everyone.

And those who are not here anymore look even younger.

She sees Marlene’s grin and Dorcas’s wistful smile and longing burns inside her for those evenings talking in the Common Room, for their girl’s night out after ending Hogwarts, for all the plans they made. They are so happy and hopeful in her memories, blissful to the fact Dorcas would face Voldemort alone, or that Marlene and all her family would perish in a fire.

She never said goodbye to any of them.

‘What were you talking about with Harry, Alastor?’, she asks in a quiet voice, returning the photo to him as if the distance can lessen the pain that photograph brings to her. She feels a little bit mad at him for bringing this photo to a party.

It’s not like she can or wants to forget all of those who died - it’s just she did not expect to see the reminder of all they lost so suddenly...

‘Just showing the boy the original group. Thought he might like it - so many stories to tell’.

Lily wonders if he told Harry the tragic end of most of those stories and she grimaces at the thought.

Harry doesn’t return so, after a while, Lily leaves the kitchen too. People are still talking animatedly and there are still a few minutes before she will have to break the party. But Lily doesn’t feel like chatting right now, so she may as well get things done. She considers going to see Harry, to check if his things are all packed for tomorrow, but he probably doesn’t want company. He is like her in that sense; prefers to be left alone to brood.

She enters the drawing room, looking around with mild interest. The children did make a good job cleaning everything up, but Grimmauld Place will never seem a happy place. Too many bad memories and dark thoughts, she thinks, as Kreacher passes behind herself, mumbling to himself and glaring at her.

Sirius forbade him of saying mudblood, but she only needs to look him in the eyes to feel the word.

There is nothing she can do about it and Lily prefers to fix on the problems she can solve anyway.

The cabinet close to the window is giving small jumps as if it’s alive. She walks to it, her mind already fixed on the remembrance of Aubrey with that big balloon head (he had really been a jerk and James and Sirius had pranked him for harassing first years muggle-borns, so she hadn’t mind laughing that time), and takes out her wand.

‘Alohomora!’

The cabinet opens and, appearing out of thin air, she sees James holding Harry as a baby, both lying in the ground, with eyes closed, pale and still. Dead.

They are dead.

Her heart beats faster and her mouth is suddenly dry, even as Lily knows this is just the boggart. It feels more like a dream, though, so she stays still for a few seconds, watching her husband and son’s corpses with a strange detachment. She really thought it would be just a dementor - and she would be ready for it this time.

But Lily supposes the memories that the dementor had arisen activated the true fear she had felt that night - that James and Harry would die while everything she could do was to watch hopelessly. Like she is doing now.

The fear creeps through her mind like smoke she can’t help but inhale, and that smoke makes her head light and dizzy, creating images in her head. She pictures how her life would be if that had happened, if Lily had taken Voldemort’s offer to stand aside while he murdered her husband and son and she was left alone.

And lost.

She wonders what she would have done and it’s surprisingly easy to answer. Find and kill Pettigrew, for starters, because there would be no James to hate him more than her and no son to give her other priorities. Then she would go after Voldemort; she would not rest until he was dead, no matter the cost. The boy-who-lived would be replaced by the mother-who-killed.

But then - and that is the scariest part - there would be nothing. No reason to live for. Her days would be empty and pointless, forever missing the two people she had most loved and knowing no vengeance would ever fill that hole…

‘Mum?’, she hears a voice asking, and for a moment Lily can’t really match the voice to anyone, certain she had never heard it before, that he died when he was just a baby -

She turns slowly to find Harry - her living son - at the door, looking at the dead bodies on the floor, then at her.

‘It’s a boggart’, Harry realizes. ‘Don’t - get out of here - let someone else -’

Harry looks worried for her. Somehow, this clears the smoke in her head. Lily steadies her hand and looks back at the corpses lying on the floor with nothing but determination.

‘Riddikulus!’, she says loud and clear, and the boggart turns into a man with a big blue balloon in the place of his head. Lily lets out a nervous laugh and the boggart vanishes in a puff of smoke.

Her heart is still beating faster, so Lily takes a moment to calm herself, to let all those bad feelings slip out of her; she almost jumps when she feels Harry’s hand on her shoulder. She had not heard him walking to her.

'Mum?’, he calls very quietly. ‘Are you ok?’

'It was just a stupid boggart, Harry', she says, forcing herself to smile at him. Harry is frowning, seeing through her empty smile just as she sees through his. 'Just go to bed, tomorrow is -'

'Do you always see us?', he asks in a hushed whisper, ignoring her dismissal. 'I mean - that -'

He stops, unable to continue, and Lily feels a sudden urge to just tell him it was nothing and to let it go. She knows Harry would hate it, but he also would respect her desire to be left alone with her thoughts and fears.

But since all she’s been asking of her son lately is that he talks to her, Lily supposes she has to set the example.

'Sometimes, yes’, she admits in a low voice. ‘At other times it’s a dementor. But it’s all related to the same thing, really’.

Harry looks deep in thought and he stares at the point where the bodies were.

'It was me as a baby', he says, and Lily nods. 'But - why? I mean, I lived’.

She sighs once more and sits on the couch.

'Come here', she asks, and Harry sits opposite to her on the same couch, his legs crossed just like he used to do when he was young and was listening to one of her bedtime stories, except this time most of his leg is out of the couch. That makes her feel strangely comforted, even if she feels her eyes tearing up a little. ‘You grew up so fast’.

‘Mum -’, he starts, looking half-embarrassed as he always does when James or Lily start remembering him as a kid.

‘I am saying it like a good thing’, she promises. ‘I just feel so lucky to have witnessed it all’.

Harry seems confused.

‘Lucky?’

She looks away to where the boggart was on the floor.

‘When I think about that night - the one where you got your scar - I always remember how close we were to lose everything. How you were almost… you and James…’

‘But it didn’t happen’, he says forcefully. ‘We all survived’.

‘Yes, but back then, at the time - I didn’t think we would make it. I really thought… I really lost hope for a moment. Sometimes I still dream of that night, but my worst nightmares are… of that’. She points to the floor. ‘If somehow you and James were gone and I was left alone -’

She can’t continue. Harry breathes heavily.

‘You wouldn’t be alone, I mean, you would still have Remus and Sirius, they -’

‘Harry’, she interrupts him softly, looking back at him. He already seems distraught, but she has to make him understand. ‘I love them, of course, but how would it be if I and your father had died then? If you were raised by Remus and Sirius?’

He stays silent for a moment and Lily can see him picturing all that alternative life. Lily supposes Sirius as a figure parent is an amusing idea, but Harry doesn’t smile for a second.

‘It would never be enough’, he whispers at least. ‘They would never replace you’.

‘They would never try to, I am sure, but... This is it. A life without you and your father would be just - just empty for me. And that’s what I fear the most. That I would be too weak that night and that I had to watch you both dying’.

‘You are strong’, Harry says resolutely, grabbing her hand and squeezing it, though Lily can’t tell if he is doing that for her sake or his own, to also confirm to him that everything is alright. ‘I - I heard what happened’.

‘What do you mean?’

Harry looks abashed, and he lowers his eyes.

'That’s why dementors hit me so hard. The thing I hear when they are near… It’s that night. Bits of it, but I hear... You and Voldemort. You plead for me, and he - he laughs and tells you to stand aside, but you refuse. You always refuse’.

Lily blinks, feeling the blood leaving her face.

'You never said anything’.

'I didn't want to upset you', Harry whispers. 'I know you don't like remembering it'.

She gives him a tiny smile despite everything. She never told him about her own worries, but Harry probably noticed how even though she didn't have any problem explaining about Voldemort, only James would talk to him about that Halloween night.

Harry sees more than people give him credit for.

'You could have told me', she says softly. 'It is not your job to worry about me, Harry'.

'But I do', he admits. 'I don't want anything to happen to you'.

There is a desperation in his voice now, like if he is really afraid something could happen with her and, with a jolt, Lily realizes they never really talked about what happened earlier that month, about how Harry drew away the dementors from her.

About how he needed to do it because she had frozen.

'I am sorry to have scared you', she says tenderly.

'It's not - I wasn't really scared with that boggart'.

Lily believes him. Harry seems to think his father is invincible and he is too selfless to regard his own death as something to be afraid of.

'I meant about the dementors a few weeks ago. And if somehow you thought I couldn't handle that boggart right now'.

Harry blinks.

'I didn't think that', he says slowly, and Lily knows he is considering his own feelings on the matter. 'I mean - I know what you are capable of'.

'I just don't want you thinking that you need to take care of me. I am the parent here. That's my job'.

'I don’t want to lose you’, he whispers guiltily, as if somehow even thinking about it should be wrong. ‘I wouldn’t - I don’t know how I could cope if -’

Harry looks so fragile right now that she does the simplest thing. She stretches her legs, in an offer, and Harry lies down, placing his head on her lap, allowing her to caress his hair like she used to do when he was young, until he would fall asleep.

‘I won’t live forever, Harry’, she says softly. ‘Someday you will be without me - and really, that’s what I hope for’. When he looks startled, she adds with a smile: ‘That you get to live longer than me. That you get a full happy life’.

‘It will only be happy if you are there’, he insists. ‘You and dad. You -’, he stops, closing his eyes as if he doesn’t want her to see more of his emotions than he is already letting it show on his voice. ‘You need to be careful. I know you are good, but - sometimes people are just in the wrong place in the wrong time’.

She knows what he is talking about and she remembers seeing Harry and Cedric Diggory leaving together for the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament, both looking thrilled that it would be over soon and that one of them might win the Tournament.

And she remembers when they all noticed something was off, when there were whispers of a dead champion and how she had feared so much that it would be Harry… And the guilt she’d felt later when she was just relieved that it wasn’t him.

The good die young, her mother used to say somberly when she saw news of a tragedy.

Lily thinks about the photograph of the old Order, of hope and dreams that mattered none when the people were dead, and she finally understands what upset Harry enough to make him leave the dining party.

‘Moody told you what happened with people from the first Order of the Phoenix’, she says.

Harry bits his lips, looking away from her.

‘I can’t promise you me and your father will make it through this war, Harry’, she says slowly, wishing she could lie to him about it. ‘But I can assure you that we will make everything we can to live… and if not, we will always be with you, you do know that, right?’

She touches his chest, right above his heart, and Harry trembles.

‘I know’, he concedes at least, but there is sorrow in his eyes. Then he looks back at her. ‘Moody told me about the Prewetts and Benjy and the Longbottoms and… I recognized Marlene from that photo in your office. You never told me her whole family had died too’.

‘It was just too painful’, Lily sighs. ‘It was just after your first birthday, when we were already hiding and I remember thinking... maybe I should have done something, I should have protected her -’

‘It was not your fault!’, Harry cries, looking appalled that she feels like that.

Lily refrains herself of pointing out the irony there.

‘I know. It’s Voldemort’s fault’, she pauses, looking at the eyes that are a mirror to hers. ‘Everything that happened. Blame him, blame the people who think like him and allow him to ascend to power, but never blame anyone else’.

Harry blinks and doesn’t answer her.

‘We are better prepared this time’, she tells him, still playing with his hair gently. ‘It will not be like in the First War - we started too late then and we were too few. Now - now we have a better idea of what we need to do, of what he’s after -’

‘The weapon’, he says, and Lily remembers their first night in Grimmauld Place and what little they had told Harry. They never really said it was a weapon, but if Harry thought so, it was for the better.

He didn’t need to hear about that prophecy, not yet. It would give him the wrong ideas probably.

‘Among other things’, she says vaguely.

He sits again, looking rather upset at her.

‘You really won’t tell me?’

‘That’s not your burden to care, Harry. Not now. I know you don’t like to hear that and I know you don’t think it’s fair, but… when you are older. Of age, at least. After school. If there is still a war going on then… then we can talk about you joining the Order and knowing things’.

Harry doesn’t look like he believes her. ‘You would just not care if I joined the Order? Simple as that?’

‘I will care’, she guarantees, running a hand nervously through her hair as James would have done. ‘But I won’t forbid you. No one forbade me, it wouldn’t be fair if I tried to stop you’.

He still looks suspiciously, but Lily just returns his gaze without blinking. She is telling him the truth; sure, she will do everything she can so that Voldemort can be finished before he is of age, but if he is seventeen and the war is still happening, she knows she won’t be able to stop him.

Like her, Harry never refrains from doing the right thing and she taught him to never stand for prejudice.

‘And until then? What do I do? Just sit here waiting?’, he asks, but for once he doesn’t sound like he is fighting with her.

‘Of course not. You can study’. When Harry grimaces, she smiles. ‘Everything you do in school is important. Every lesson - yeah, even Potions, don’t give me that look. You study and you use it to prepare yourself. Not just you, but Ron and Hermione too. All of you must be ready for what happens outside. Life won’t be like in school all the time, where you know when a spell will hit you or that when the bell rings you are safe’.

Harry bits his lips, looking thoughtful.

‘I know it’s not. I mean - for the Triwizard Tournament I learned a lot of spells and how to cast them, but - when it comes to the real thing, when -’, he takes a deep breath. ‘- when I was in the graveyard with Voldemort, it’s not like in school. It’s just your guts and instinct and - and trying to survive’.

This is the most Harry has said about the night of Voldemort’s resurrection to her and, for the first time, Lily wonders if she really wants to know. Just thinking about the desperation he must have felt fighting for his life…

He survived, she tells herself. You won’t be able to keep him under your wings forever, so you give him all the skills you can. You make sure he will be ready.

‘That is it, Harry. Promise you will take your studies seriously this year. Not just because of the OWLs, but because you know what’s happening out here, even if everyone else is denying it’.

He looks solemnly as he gives a tiny nod to her.

‘I will. And I will make sure others are prepared too. I - I don’t want - what happened to Cedric - to ever happen again’.

She smiles serenely to him, even as she remembers Amos Diggory’s cries and thinks darkly he won’t be the last parent to despair for his child in this war.

The good die young.

‘Are you going to stay here?’, he asks, distracting her from her grim thoughts. Lily sighs.

‘No, I promised Molly I would make sure everyone is in their bed not too late. You know how chaotic September 1st can be. And then -’

‘Then?’

‘I will just stay up a little bit longer’.

Harry looks at her as if he can see all that she is not telling him.

‘Dad will be home late?’ he asks, though it doesn’t really seem a question. Lily just sighs, confirming it. ‘I could keep you company’.

Lily smiles more warmly now.

‘You can go rest, Harry, it’s no problem. I’ll just make myself a tea and wait in the kitchen’.

‘I’m not sleepy’, he assures her. ‘I haven’t been sleeping much. I keep having the weirdest dream, really… And, well, I thought we could make some hot chocolate’.

That brings a warmth to her that has nothing to do with the beverage. She thinks of late nights with James and Harry, especially in winter, when they would make hot chocolate and share it in front of the fireplace in their house.

That kind of silly small moments that never seem important as you are living them, but somehow they turn into your favourite memories.

‘With whipped cream?’, she asks, her voice lighter now, and Harry smirks, making his resemblance to James more evident.

‘You can even put a little bit of brandy and I won’t tell anyone’.

She blushes, getting up. ‘I have no idea what you are talking about’.

‘I’m fifteen, mum, I get it now what was the medicine in your chocolate’.

‘When did you get so smart?’, she asks playfully, taking his arm so they can descend the stairs together to the kitchen. ‘Anyway, no alcohol for you’.

‘Spoilsport’, he complains without any real malice. ‘When will I get to drink?’

‘If you are still asking me, Harry, then you are still too young, trust me’, Lily answers grinning.

Harry shakes his head, mumbling to himself almost indignantly but this is such a normal teenage behaviour that Lily will take it without complaining. That’s the kind of thing she wants him to be worried about.

She kisses him softly on the cheek before they enter the kitchen, knowing Harry would be too embarrassed to be seen receiving a kiss from his mother in front of everyone - another very usual teenage behaviour -, and smiles to herself.

‘Thanks for the company’, she says later, when they are alone in the kitchen after sending everyone to bed.

‘Anytime, mum’, he promises, filling his cup with whipped cream, while they accommodate themselves to wait for James to come home.

#Jily Lives #Jily Fanfic #Harry Potter #Lily Potter #Lily Potter is a good mother #Harry and Lily moments #angst with a happy ending #t: fanfiction #Eyes glistening

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hotchley · 3 years

Text

those three stupid words

Once again, I have no idea what this is, but I was thinking about Hotch and Jack having different love languages, and also how Haley told Hotch that he needs to hear the words so now here we are! it’s just something i wrote after finishing my chemistry notes x

Minor spoilers for season 12/13. I’m on season 10 but I know what happens so it’s mentioned briefly

tw: implied domestic abuse, hospitals, minor character deaths, mentions of periods, panic attacks, prescribed drugs, thoughts of death

read on ao3!

Hotch is terrible at saying the words I love you because it’s almost like a curse. He remembers how they would joke about The Reid Effect meaning children and animals didn’t like their youngest agent, but The Hotchner Effect is tragedy the moment he got close enough to say those three words.

He told his mother he loved her and she never felt mercy until the day she died, even though her husband had been in the ground for years by that point.

He told Kate Joyner that he loved her- not in the way he loved Haley- but in the way one does when they feel like they have a guardian keeping them safe and she bled out in a hospital, afraid and alone.

He told Haley Brooks he would love her forever, because at the time forever seemed like nothing and now he visits her grave with a bouquet of flowers and the son he is terrified of hurting.

He told Emily Prentiss he loved her, in whatever way she would let him, because he thought it would be enough to make her stay, but it wasn’t because she went back to London and it was selfish of him to ask her to come back. She only came back when he had to leave.

He won’t say the words, but he will remember how every single member of his team- including Ashley Seaver and Jordan Todd- took their coffee and he will remember whose period is due when and what snacks they want. He remembers what audiobook to listen to with who and he remembers where to stand to make them comfortable. He could make their lunches and patch up old wounds with his eyes closed, but he can never say the words, and most of the time it’s enough. The team understand because they have to.

But Jack Hotchner, for better or for worse, is not his father. Nor is he his mother. He is some weird combination of the two, for he has his father’s fury and anger at the world, but also his kind and gentle tendencies towards those that need it most. But he has his mother’s ability to spit harsh words that he doesn’t really mean and her desire to seek goodness in everyone has passed onto him. He has his mothers soft, blonde hair but his fathers’ brown eyes. Only his hair has not been darkened by the threat of a serial killer and his eyes do not hold the same sadness or guilt when he looks at old photos.

There are days where Jack will come down the stairs and find that his father has already made his breakfast. It’s usually on the days that he’s running late. He will come home from a trip with his friends’ to find the light in the hallway still on, because his father understands how suffocating he finds the dark. There will be macaroni and cheese from the box on the days he slams the apartment door and throws his bag onto his bed.

Jack knows his father loves him. He knows how hard it is for his dad to let him go out and do normal teenager things and he knows how painful it is to watch him grow up without Haley there. But because Hotch still thinks that Jack knows none of this, he never breathes a word. He knows that his father is one of the best men to exist, maybe in spite of, or maybe because of, everything he has been through.

But there are days where he tells his dad he loves him and does not get a response. Where he will shout the words as he runs out the door to get a lift from his friend- it’s what the cool kids do- and be met with silence. Where he’ll say them just before heading to his bedroom and get a smile.

He knows that his dad struggles to say the words and that they don’t mean everything, but it still hurts to not hear them. And he knows he’s being stupid, but he’s just a human. When something hurts, rational thought does not come into it. It just hurts.

He is sat on his bed, stupidly wondering whether he is the problem. He’s never heard his father say those three stupid words to anyone, not even Beth or Emily or Dave, but maybe once he did.

Hotch comes back from the grocery store and does not hear Jack come running down the stairs to see what sweet treat that he shouldn’t have got but still did because it’s a one time thing.

He knows that George Foyet is dead. And so is Peter Lewis. They can’t hurt Jack. But being a profiler for so long taught him that no matter how many monsters you defeat or send to jail or kill, there are always more waiting to take their place.

So he drops the bags on the kitchen counter, reaches for a gun that isn't there anymore and just hopes that the one good thing in his life hasn't been taken.

The door to Jack's room is open. Hotch nudges it slightly, letting out a sigh of relief when he sees his son sitting on his bed. The sigh of relief quickly becomes a noise of concern when he realises Jack is crying. Silently. The tears course down his cheek as though he's not even aware of their existence.

That's another thing about Jack Hotchner. He cries the same way his father does.

"Hey, hey, buddy, what's going on? What happened? Come on, talk to me, and we'll make everything right. Together. You know we can. We always do," he said, kneeling by his side.

Jack shakes his head. Aaron slowly counts to ten.

"Buddy come on. Talk to me."

"Sometimes I wonder whether or not you love me," Jack blurts out.

Hotch recoils like he'd been hit, and in some ways, he has. In some ways, that single sentence does more to destroy him than every blow his father had ever rained upon him, every parent that had spat in his face about not knowing what it was like to lose a child, just because he could not wear his wedding ring for a moment longer could ever attempt. It hurts him more than Foyet's knife plunging in had.

"Buddy of course I do. You never need to worry about that. Did something happen to make you doubt that? Because I know sometimes I get angry, but I swear nothing will ever change."

Jack looks up, and Hotch feels like he's looking in a mirror. How many times had he looked at his own father with that same scared and desperate look?

But Jack isn't scared. No, Jack had never been scared of his father, only for. Jack is tired and desperate and Hotch doesn't know what he is meant to do.

"Then how come you can never say the words? It's just three stupid words, yet somehow you never manage to actually say them. You dance around them and you say a hundred thousand other things but you never actually say it!"

Hotch is still on his knees. They're beginning to ache. He knows what he needs to say, but he just can't do it. He opens his mouth to say what his son needs to hear because there are no monsters hiding in the closet, waiting to strike. He opens his mouth because his son needs to know that he is the best thing Aaron has ever known. He opens his mouth and nothing comes out. It is like there is a barrier that prevents him from getting a single syllable, let alone three fully formed words out.

It is like a lump in his throat that he should be strong enough to get past is getting bigger and bigger, stopping him from giving his son the one thing he needs.

"Jack," he whispers, but it is not enough and it never will be enough.

Jack let out a sob, running past his father and is out the door by the time Hotch reaches it.

He tries to breathe. He tries so, so hard to breathe because he needs to find Jack before a monster in the form of a charming smile or desperate person finds him and takes him away- not just for a few months- but forever. He tries to breathe, but just like the three stupid words he can never say, he can't.

Instead he sobs, wondering why he is so broken. Why the universe had decided that Haley would be the one taken from Jack and not him. Why every single part of his body feels paralysed, stopping him from even reaching for his phone and dialling Jessica.

It passes a few minutes later, after he is able to ground himself and regulate his breathing, but it feels like hours. He's so exhausted that he just wants to curl up on the carpet and close his eyes, but he can't. He needs to find his son.

Jack had left his phone in his jacket pocket, which means Aaron is able to track him. He contemplates going after him, but then he sees that he is going to the graveyard. They've been there so many times that they could both go with their eyes closed.

He paces around the apartment instead. It suffocates him only moments later, and he finds himself grabbing his car keys. He does not go to the graveyard. When he told Jessica in simple sentences what had happened, she told him to let Jack go. To only go after him if his location indicated danger.

He finds himself at the beach he'd dragged Jack to when he wouldn't stop moping about his first break-up. In fairness, the boy had been thirteen and it had seemed like the end of the world at the time, but because Hotch had never been that keen on the girl, he was secretly glad.

Jack goes there shortly after Hotch leaves. Hotch drives back to the apartment, still feeling sick. When he gets in, it takes everything he has to head to the kitchen, and not his bedroom.

He has no idea how long Jack has been sitting on that one for, but he's been gone for an hour. He'll be hungry when he gets back. Making dinner is something Hotch enjoys, but that day, it felt like another papercut on his heart.

Jack's pillbox was on the counter. Hotch doesn't want to invade his privacy, but he needs to know. He picks it up. The pills he was supposed to take that morning were still there. Yet another reason for him to resent himself. If he hadn't dashed out early to make a meeting he could have rescheduled, then him and Jack could have taken their pills together, and he wouldn't be sitting there wondering if Jack was going to suddenly end up in the E.R because his heart condition played up.

The sun had set, but Jack hadn't come home. Hotch was back to pacing the apartment. Jack's location showed that he was still at the beach. He hoped it wasn't just that his phone had fallen out of his jacket pocket when someone came from behind him. Jessica had promised to call the moment she heard anything.

There had been nothing, apart from a message reminding him to eat. He doesn't have the heart to tell her that if he does, it will all end up being flushed down the toilet.

Although he's pacing Jack's room, he left the hallway light on. He knows how suffocating Jack finds the dark, and in all the years they've been living in the apartment, neither of them has ever come home to darkness. He isn't about to start letting that happen now.

Jack's key turns in the lock when it's close to nine. Hotch does not move from his position because he's too much of a coward to have that confrontation now, and he wants to give Jack the chance to decide where he's going to go. Hotch hopes he goes to the kitchen. There's a bowl of mac and cheese- straight from the box, with extra cheese grated on- still warm for him to eat.

But Jack heads straight up the stairs and walks into his room, almost like he knows his dad will be there, waiting for his baby to come home safe.

Jack walks in, his eyes red and still watering, and finds his dad sat on the floor. In his arms is a bear. The only bear that Jack still has on his bed, because the rest of his toys are in the closet. But the one on his bed is special. It's from Build-A-Bear. Aaron and Jack made the trip for Jack's birthday. The first one they'd spent together without Haley.

He still buys the thing accessories, even now.

Aaron looks up and drops the bear.Jack looks down.

"I'm sorry," he says, because now that he's had time to think, he's not angry with his dad. He just feels guilty. So guilty for shouting at him because he knows his dad loves him and that he just has a slightly different way of showing it, and there's nothing wrong with that.

Aaron puts the bear down and walks over to his son.

For one stupid moment, Jack thinks he's going to walk right past him, out the door, and never come back. Other people call his imagination a blessing and something beautiful. He calls it his fatal flaw.

Obviously, his dad does not walk out of the apartment. He doesn't even walk out of the bedroom.

What he does do is this: he walks up to his son, looks into his eyes, and for the first time, Jack realises just how similar they are- the exact same shade of brown- and sees tears that haven't fallen yet. Aaron pulls his son in for a hug, and before Jack even knows what he's doing, he's falling apart in his dad's arms, sobs torn from him, breath coming in uneven pants.

Aaron doesn't let go. He just holds his son close, hoping that he hasn't destroyed yet another person with his touch.

Eventually, Jack's sobs calm and he's able to breathe easily. Still, his father does not let go. He waits for his son to move out of his arms and sit down, before he joins him on the floor.

"Jack. I-" he starts, but his son cuts him off with a shake of his head.

"Don't. Please. Not now. I know you do, and I know I need to hear the words, but I can't hear them right now or else I will always associate them with this moment and I just- I can't."

Hotch can feel his son starting to panic, so he just nods. "There's mac and cheese in the kitchen if you're up for it. And if you're not, just eat and drink something before you go to sleep. I don't want you waking up in the middle of the night because you're hungry."

He stands, fully intending to leave his son be for the rest of the night.

"Dad?" Jack whispers.Hotch crouches down again.

"Yeah buddy."

"Can I- can I just stay in your room tonight?"

No parenting manual or article teaches you what to do when your fifteen-year-old son asks if he can sleep in your room after he storms out because you're too afraid of what happened to everyone in your life to say those three words he needs more than anything.

But parenting manuals are nothing compared to the instincts of anyone that loves a child. And sometimes, you need to trust that you're doing the right thing. And in that moment, Aaron does.

"Sure kid," he says. And he doesn't feel like he's done the wrong thing.

Aaron watches his son sleep that night. Jack pretends he doesn't notice what his dad is doing, and in turn, Aaron pretends he doesn't know what Jack is doing.

The next day, he makes them both breakfast. Jack said he wanted to go to school when he woke up, and Hotch trusts his judgement, but made him promise to come home if at any point he felt unwell. He can cancel his classes for his son.

Just before Jack leaves, Hotch calls out for him.

His son turns around, looking so much like his mother with those innocent eyes and slight smile, like he knows exactly what his father is about to say. For a moment, it's like Haley is really there with them and Hotch's breath catches slightly. He swallows the lump in throat and fights the barrier.

"I love you," he says. It comes out too quickly, slightly choked and all the words blend into one, but he does it. He says it.

It makes Jack smile, slightly tearful himself. "I know. I love you too dad."

When the door closes behind him, Aaron leans against the counter for a moment, grounding himself. Everything will be fine, he tells himself. Jack will be fine.

And he is. He comes home in one piece, a wide smile on his face when he reveals the two cupcakes he got from the local bakery on the way home.

Aaron smiles at him because that is his son, who he loves with all his heart.

And no matter how much he struggles to say those three little words, he will always try for him.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch #jack hotchner #hurt aaron hotchner #sad aaron hotchner #tw domestic abuse #tw hospitals #tw minor character death #tw periods #tw substances #tw mentions of death

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reidecorating · 4 years

Text

The Exquisite Pain of Love

Requested: Yes! I hope this isn’t too far from what you’d imagined, nonnie

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Word Count: A hefty 2.1k of heartbreak tbh

Summary: Sometimes, even when we love someone more that life itself, the universe just gets in the way.

Warnings: None, it’s just Spencer being soft and a tiny bit heartbroken :(

It had made a home in his wallet, the photograph. Its bottom edge slanted slightly, making it clear that skaking fingers had torn apart ground that scissors should have tread. JJ first pointed it out when Spencer offered to pay for lunch at an unfrequented diner on the outskirts of New Orleans after yet another apprehensive case.

“You keep a photo with you,” She’d observed.

“I do,”

“You do.”

Spencer’s lips formed a tight line across his face before his eyebrows furrowed in knitting together an excuse as to why he keeps the picture of the two of you, frozen in both time and a New York winter, in his wallet, when every monochromatic detail of the snapshot had already been whittled into his temporal lobe. JJ regretted bringing it up as she almost visibly saw barricades beginning to compile behind the already tenacious walls Spencer had built around himself. She tilted her head in hopes of meeting his eyes as he sat in the booth across from her, refusing to touch his meal. “Look, I didn’t mean to pry... it’s just that-”

“Everything exists to end in a photograph,” he cut her off, with the words of Susan Sontag, intuitively knowing what she was about to say. Still not meeting JJ’s gaze, his mind travelled coach, two hours north of the diner, to the day you two had parted.

Spencer remembered the Christmas trees and tangled scarves, falling for you in more ways than one, when his ice skates wouldn’t let him stand straight, and pumpkin spice breath. Memories of twinkling fairy lights and you exhaling against his neck made his heart writhe under the hands of nostalgia. Woollen volts of static electricity sparked as you grabbed him by the hand in the direction of the small booth sitting outside a festively grandiose café corner, ignoring the pain in his bruised knees - courtesy of the rink. “Do you ever get tired?” Spencer asked you. Leaning against a street sign belonging to Manhattan, he beamed a smile and simultaneously attempted to catch his breath. “Sorry about the rush, I just assumed that with all the time you spend in the field running from psychopaths you would be in decent shape,” you teased. “Yeah, well this time I was running after a psychopath. She actually told me that she wanted to get a photo with me,” he retorted, making you roll your eyes while you slipped through the curtain of the small box. Spencer followed suite, knocking his elbow on the side of its entrance making him grimace in pain. “Karma, for implying that I’m crazy,” you giggled, as he scrunched his nose at you, feigning hurt, before sitting beside you on the plush velvet seat. The interior was lavish, despite the corroding metal of its outside, and, naturally, you took advantage of the warmth provided by the enclosed space combined with Spencer’s body heat radiating towards your own. “A Siberian immigrant in the nineteen-twenties named Josepho Anatol, invented the modern photobooth and actually made his first million after it appeared on the streets of this very city,” Spencer rambled as you fumbled with your gloves and coins and the tiny slot they had to slip through. “Why in New York?” you asked softly, still wrestling with the coins. Spencer thought for a moment. Normally, when he prattled on with trivial information, it wasn’t long before someone told him to stop talking, or false heartedly smiled and nodded in hopes that maybe he would be quiet. It was for this reason he found you enamouring. You, who questioned almost every detail he’d paint, who took in every word from his mouth like it was the air you depended on.

The first time you had taken him stargazing atop a sequestered museum observatory years ago, he had talked for an unfathomable amount of time about how all the planets in the solar system were named after Roman gods, “Except for Earth of course - and Uranus. It was named after a Greek god. Herschel wanted to call it Georgium Sidus - meaning George’s Star - after King George the Third of England,” he’d explained to you, talking with his hands. His eyes shifted from the constellations above to your features, indecisive of which view could be deemed more breathtaking. The man who spoke multiple languages almost forgot all of them once he felt you laying your eyes on him in a way that no one else ever could. “Um… but… that didn’t really sit right with anyone who wasn’t from England so they derived its new name from that of the Greek god of the sky: Ouranos,” he had managed to keep his composure long enough to conclude his history lesson, as you looked up at your favourite person, thanking whichever planets that aligned to bring him into your life. “What a wild ride,” you had said to him. “Although, judging by the last name, Herschel must have been German, so the poor guy wouldn’t have had any idea what ‘Uranus’ would sound like in English,” you burst out laughing. His heart fluttered in his chest, almost trying to escape through his throat. As he joined you in appreciating the joke, he smiled down at you with a certain fondness only the poets would understand. He knew he loved JJ, but the love he had for you was something else. When he went home that night and his ceiling hid the stars from him, he thought about JJ. Washing his face as his reflection copied his actions, he thought about how easy it was with her, they were hardly ever apart. He thought about you. He thought about the job that demanded so much of his time and how difficult it would be to give love to someone millions of miles from Washington. Most importantly, however, he thought about how hopelessly, desperately, violently in love he was with everything about you. He looked himself in the eye through the glass. “Can we just make a decision? Please?” he let out a frustrated groan into his mirror, trying not to tear his hair out.

Now, huddled together in the tiny booth, as your hand innocently lay draped across his thigh, he was reminded that he loved you just as much as he did that night under the stars - if not even more. “Why New York..?” he repeated your question. “Because every second spent here is a second worth remembering.” You let your eyes roam over him as he spoke. A brown mop of hair lay tousled on his head after losing a battle with a beanie which had been discarded. You wished you could reach out and tuck each strand back into place, but you knew better. The coffee coloured light in his eyes poured into your own, and your heart melted, regardless of the now falling snow outside. “Everyone who has been here has a life that could be transcribed into volumes upon volumes of stories, but there just isn’t a library big enough to house every story belonging to every stranger. So I guess if they’re worth a thousand words, pictures will have to suffice,” Spencer said to her. He licked his lips, chapped and bright pink against his pale complexion which was iced with snow dust. You wanted nothing but to feel them against yours, to allow the warmth between the two of you to thaw away the harsh frostbite of undue love. “You’re spectacular, you know that right? I could spend the rest of my life wandering through your mind and never get tired,” your words flooded his ears, as he released a shaky breath through a fervent grin. A blush crept up the sides of his cheeks, meeting at the tip of his ski-slope nose at the sight of you beaming at him, when an unexpected and delayed flash interrupted your conversation, making up for the disruption by capturing the moment. You both laughed at the timing, while Spencer struggled to figure out whether his heart was racing because of the slight scare, or because of you. After presenting the camera with a multitude of poses, the two of you emigrated into the street, you gripping the fresh strip of film between gloved fingers.

By the time you and Spencer had caught a cab to the airport, heavy ropes of easterly winds had drawn closed the ebony drapes of night, leaving vague silhouettes of skeleton trees holding the stars in their raw-boned hands. You rest your head on his shoulder, him using the side of your head as a temporary pillow in turn. The two of you had gotten a scarce amount of shut-eye over the past few days since neither of you wanted to lose a second with each other to the villain of sleep. In the backseat of the taxi, which rumbled along its much too short route, Spencer lifted his head off yours, admiring the way you peacefully slept against him. He glanced down to see that your hands had found each other’s in the dark and now lay entwined on your lap. After a long sigh in an attempt to stop his heart from beating so fast, “I hope you know just how much I love you,” he mumbled to your sleeping figure. Unbeknownst to him you lay conscious, your heart stopping when his lips pressed a stamp of love onto your forehead as the driver parked the cab. “Hey, wake up my sweet buttercup,” You felt his hot breath carry the whisper into your neck. “We’re here.” Your heart sank as familiar sounds of the airport could be heard through the windows.

Goodbyes should never have to be this hard, you’d thought to yourself. The time was nearing to when Spencer’s flight number would be called, and in the crowded terminal, the two of you faced each other, but didn’t say a word. He took one of your hands between his, looking at you through glossy eyes. “I don’t want to go,” his quiet voice cracked. You took a step closer. He leaned into your touch once your palm cupped his jaw, chastely tracing your thumb over his cheek. “Spencer Reid, this past week has been unforgettable, you are unforgettable. Everyday of my life I’ll be mad at the world for making it so hard for us, but we can’t keep doing this to ourselves. Sometimes people have to drift apart for the better,” your words trembled before him as tears threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes. “I hope you know just how much I love you,” you recited his words back to him, causing him to squeeze your small hand between his own. “The world is a better place with you in it, Spencer, and I hope the people in your life never take you for granted. You have so much love for JJ, and I know she’ll give you the world. I want you to be happy… even if its not with me, so as selfish as I would like to be, and as much as I want to, I won’t beg you to stay,” you let yourself fall apart. He nodded, only sniffling in reply. You drew your hands away from him to reach into your coat pocket and pulled out the photostrip from earlier today, carefully tearing off the first one in the series and slipping it into his hand. Spencer pulled you into his chest as his arms tightened around you. Your face was buried between his collarbones, the faint scent of cinnamon and dry leaves surrounding you with warmth. His chin rested on your head, your hands tightening their grip around his waist in an attempt to be as close as humanly possible in the middle of an airport terminal. It was true, you were a fly stuck in spilt honey when it came to his embrace. When he pulled away, he realised that if he looked you in the eyes, he would immediately cancel his trip home, so Spencer gathered every ounce of strength in his body and turned towards the direction of his gate. You watched him walk away, his silhouette getting smaller and smaller as the distance between you did the opposite.

Spencer hated reliving his heartbreak, and he didn’t expect to do it so soon in a run down New Orleans eatery, but you were right, he realised. Like you were about most things, you were right about JJ giving him the world, but when you crossed his mind, he hoped and prayed that someone did the same for you. “I keep a photo with me, JJ, because what we do for a living, drags us to hell and back each day. So with that, I need to be reminded, sometimes, that even when I feel numb to the world around me, it’s still possible to feel as infinitely happy as I did that day in Manhattan,” He pulled out the photo and placed it in front of his partner in solving crime. She nodded understandingly, observing the two people caught off guard, candidly sharing smitten smiles. Spencer had the time of his life with you, and while he had the image forever in his mind, the only physical poof he had of it ever happening was the torn black and white film he kept in his pocket, of a girl smiling up at him like he was the only thing in this life worth looking at.

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baekchelor · 4 years

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𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕕𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

pairings: George Mackay x reader genre: romantic comedy rating: pg13 synopsis: on the set of his new film, golden boy George Mackay learns a basic human truth: that the heart is deceitful above all things.

❝ and why love things you were destined to lose? why let yourself feel things if the feelings were doomed to die?❞ —garth risk hallberg

FOREWORD

"Under such circumstances," Dean says, a signature cheeky grin on full display "you're a lucky bastard. An extremely lucky bastard."

Covent Garden hides their favourite spot, a pub that is regularly secluded to its recurrent patrons. Tonight is no different, the place is quiet, with just a few other habitues nestled in its polished corners toasting over dry martinis. Yet, it takes a beat for the words to filter into George's ears and drag his attention away from the phone.

"What?" he asks.

Daisy's just sent him a message. She's asking if they're still on for dinner tonight after she wraps up her rehearsal —she works at The Yard, a disused warehouse converted into a fringe theatre. George guesses she's on stage, with her hair up in a knot as she waits for the director's feedback.

Dean wiggles his eyebrows, and for some reason, he's holding out his Galaxy Note, signalling he wants to show George something on it. The latter only manages a distracting hum before returning his attention to his own device:

Just as George taps send, Dean starts to brandish the phone in his face. He whines, "Look!"

George sighs, but takes the device anyway. He looks down at the phone in his hand and runs his thumb across the screen. It lights up with an article from The Sun.

Y/N Y/L/N AND GEORGE MACKAY PLAY STARCROSSED LOVERS, the headline reads. THEIR FORBIDDEN LOVE TALE IS ONE OF THE MANY REASONS WE CAN'T WAIT FOR GRETA GERWIG'S UPCOMING PERIOD DRAMA: DHARMA.

George's hair is unusually black in the article's photo of him, a dye job he'd gotten for his previous movie role. Carelessly, he runs his fingers through the short hairs at his nape. It's all back to normal now —light brown, strategically rumpled short as a result of the hair and make-up test for James Barlow, his character in said movie.

"You look great together, mate," Dean teases, showing the two separate pictures of the actors, both smiling and stunningly looking. "Would be a hell of a couple."

George swats his hand away. "You're so fresh sometimes." He reaches across their table and rakes Dean's bangs over his eyes in retaliation.

The younger doesn't even resist. His smile is a slice of white and mischief; teeth still unblemished yet with all the smoking. He and George go to the same dentist in Kensington.

"Bastard," Dean blows his bangs out of his eyes, and really, he looks nothing like a twenty-two-year-old. He's all puppy-face: lower lip stocked out in an infuriating little pout. "I'm just remarking on how good you look with your new girlfriend."

"It is a role, Dean. And a great one at that." George hands back the phone. "Tease me all you want, but I'm really excited about this project."

Dean relents, "Aren't you about every single one?" his smile is softer now, so his best friend knows he's taking him seriously. He takes a sip of his beer. "So it'll be your first time filming in India, huh? You're like...a virgin."

The wording is so ridiculous that it's only a matter of seconds before the laughter bursts out of them both like hiccups.

"Like a virgin," Dean sings out of tune. "Touched for the very first time!"

George balls up his cocktail napkin and tosses it in Dean's direction. "Stop making it weird," he protests, even as another laugh bubbles in his throat. "This is a vital job."

"Fine," Dean replies, leaning back in his seat. He wipes some moisture from his eyes, the result of their mirth. "What does cute little Daisy have to say about it?"

George can feel his expression souring just a touch. "You know we're nothing serious," he shrugs, but Dean doesn't give up the matter, blue eyes encouraging to dwell further. "She's kind of...a fan of her boyfriend. Henry Cavill."

When Dean cocks an eyebrow and attaches it to a knowing smirk, the other caves in.

"Okay, fine. She's a big fan," admits George as he takes a swig of his own beer.

"I see." There's an insinuating curl to Dean's lips, "And I take it she said something to deserve this reaction."

"She said she wouldn't mind us kissing." A cackle seems to rip right out of Dean. George ignores him, "Said she'd have Henry's flavour in her lips when she kisses me," in a flash, George adds, "As Y/N kisses Henry… and I'd be kissing her."

"Kinky," Dean sing-songs. George's mouth flattens into a disapproving line. "And disturbing."

"Exactly."

The tilt of Deans' brow is deliberately coy. "I think it's you who will end up not minding kissing Y/N."

George shakes his head as if he's sure of himself, and as if it was easy to deceive your own person. "Not a chance."

"Wanna bet?"

ɴᴇxᴛ ►

#george mackay #dean charles chapman #George mackay x reader #1917

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honestlyhappyharry · 4 years

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Girls Night

"Hey, Mila. How do you feel about having a girls night?" You ask the little girl sitting across the kitchen island eating her toast with jam for lunch. It only had strawberry jam, she didn't like it with butter and she could always tell if you or Harry had made it with butter. Mila was the youngest of your 4 children with Harry. First Noah Edward Styles, who was 17 and going out with friends tonight, then Knox George Styles, who was 14 and going to a boy/girl party, and Eloise Esme Styles, who was 10 and was spending the night at her best friends house. Harry and the boys were at a meet and greet in New York and had to leave this morning but he was coming back tomorrow. Your kids ages seemed to confuse some people, the difference between Mila and Noah was 14 years but once you had Eloise you and Harry still wanted another kid but the timing wasn't perfect because the boys were just about to go tour and then when Harry came back everything was a little bit of a mess. Once everything settled down and got back to normal you and Harry had trouble conceiving a baby. After some external help and through IVF you got pregnant with Mila Nancy Styles and she just completed your family.

"Yes, Mumma. I'd like that." She said grinning at you with that signature Styles grin.

~ "Mum, I'm leaving." Noah shouts as you heard the front door opening and then closing, not even giving you to say bye to him. Teenagers.

"Uh, Mum, Milly's here take me to the party." Knox's voice came from the hallway, you get up off the couch to go and see him.

"Milly?" You ask, you had heard him talk about a girl called Milly in his class but you assumed he'd be going to the party with his best friend Jake.

"Yeah, her mum wanted to meet me and we are dating." He tells you, your mouth drops open. Maybe he only told Harry.

"I think you only told your dad, bud." You say. "I would love to met her though." You say.

Almost on instinct the doorbell rings and Knox walks the 3 steps to open in, a girl walks in and hugs Knox. She was a lot shorter than Knox, who was tall for his age seeing as Harry was his father, had blondish hair and brown eyes.

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs Styles, I'm Milly." She says once Knox lets her go.

"It's nice to meet you too, Milly. And you can call me Y/n." You tell her, she smiled. "You two should probably get going then." You say to her and Knox and he agrees, putting on his shoes on before walking out the door.

Just as Knox and Milly walk out the door, Eleanor, Louis wife, and Gigi, Eloise’s best friend and Louis' daughter, walk in. "El! Hi!" You say as she walks in. You and Eleanor had been best friends since you and Harry started dating. She was one of the people you were closest to, which is part of the reason Eloise’s name was so similar to hers.

"Oh my gosh, I haven't see you in so long. I've missed you so so so much." She rambled, Gigi had taken off her shoes and was going up the stairs to find Eloise when you pulled her in for a hug. "Was that Knox's girlfriend?" She asked once you pulled away.

"Yeah, how'd you know he had one though?" You puzzled.

"Oh, Harry was talking to Louis on the phone about it when we were together." She says and you nod. "Knox, didn't tell you?" She asks.

"Nah, I'm not sure why. Anyway, we should go shopping sometime." You say to her and she nods, excitedly.

"Yes, definitely. Eloise and Gigi need to hurry up though, we have a movie to catch in half an hour." She says and you yell up the stairs for them to come down.

"Mumma, is Aunty El actually here?" Mila screams as she runs down the stairs, she was previously up in her room playing with the dolls. Mila had started to say the word 'actually' in every sentence since she heard you say it and Harry laugh at you.

"Baby La!!" Eleanor said as the small girl jumped into her arms, giving her the biggest hug. "I've missed you so much, we should go out sometime and I can take you shopping." She says.

"Yes!!" Mila screamed again. By now Gigi and Eloise were at the bottom of the stairs, Eloise with her bag in hand. It wasn't uncommon for Eloise and Gigi to go out without Mila, she was 6 years their junior.

"Okay, we should go now. Do you girls have any plans for tonight?" Eleanor said as she gave Gigi the keys to her car so Eloise could put her things in.

"We're just going to have a girls night." You smile as you pick Mila up and hold her close to you. You definitely missed having a little baby even though Mila was quite little for her age.

"Ooo, have fun. We really do need to get going though. I'll see you tomorrow." Eleanor says as she, Gigi and Eloise walk out the door.

"Miss, I'd like a kiss." You say to Eloise and pull her back in to give her a kiss on the forehead. She sighed, wow your little baby was becoming a teenager. "Have fun." You say.

"Mumma, what are we going to do?" Mila said as you held her close to you.

"I was thinking we could paint our nails, do a face mask and get some popcorn and watch a movie." You say to the ever grinning girl in your arms. She was nodding at your plan. "Let's go then." You say and put her down so you could walk up the stairs to your and Harry's master bathroom.

After you painted Mila’s nails, Mila attempted to paint yours, you both put on some of your favourite face mask, you made popcorn, you and Mila were sitting on your bed. Then your phone started to ring. You look down to see it was Harry's number and you look at Mila. "It's daddy, do you wanna say hi. Then I'll go talk to him and you can stay here and watch the movie?" You ask and she nods before you answer the phone.

"Daddy!!" She screamed and you smile at her enthusiasm to talk to Harry. You look over and check the clock to see it read 3:21. Meaning it was nearly 6:30 in New York and Harry was probably about to go out to dinner with the boys.

"Hi baby, how are you?" He asks and she replies with a 'good'. After Mila filled Hary in on everything you two had done, down to when she had gone to the bathroom, you were out in the hallway with the phone to your ear.

"Hi, my love." Harry said, he hadn't really gotten the chance to say a proper hello to you with Mila’s rambling.

"Hi, Haz. How's the meet and greet?" You ask.

"So good, baby, I never get sick of meeting fans. You always meet such amazing new people." You bean at the way Hary talked about his supporters, so much love.

"That's good, how are you?" You ask him.

"I'm good. I miss you though. Do you think Mila would hear some phone sex?" He asked and you roll your eyes but giggle a little at what a pig Harry was.

"Yes. I think she would know. Also I thought you were calling because you wanted to say how you loved me, not how much you wanted to sleep with me." You tease and Harry chuckles.

"I love you." He said sincerely. "I just really wish I had time to put my dick in you this morning." He started laughing about you roll your eyes again although he couldn’t see it.

"You're so funny." You sarcastically speak.

"Hmm. I'm pretty sure you would have loved it." He says and you shamelessly agree. "Hey um, I need to go. The boys are here." He says into the phone.

"Okay. I'll send you a pic of how cute Mila looks." You say to him.

"I love you."

"I love you." The phone then shut off and you walk back into your room to see Mila. "Smile for daddy." You say as you hold out your phone to take a picture of her.

She sticks out her tongue and you send it to Harry with the message: someone taught this little one some sass, must have been Louis.

A/N: I wrote this for my cousin because the photo looks so much like her and I miss her heaps and today happens to be her birthday

#Harry Styles #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry fic #harrystylesfanfiction #one direction #one direction imagines

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coffeebased · 4 years

Text

Hey! Wikathon na! I’ve started reading Relocations by Karen Tongson, about a third through now, but I had to take a little detour through Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir like I said I would. I’ve finished reading HtN but I’m not quite done experiencing it, so I’ll probably pick Relocations back up tomorrow.

But here’s what I read in July! What’s a segue?

1. Haikyu!! Volume 44 and 45 by Haruichi Furudate

A chance event triggered Shouyou Hinata’s love for volleyball. His club had no members, but somehow persevered and finally made it into its very first and final regular match of middle school, where it was steamrolled by Tobio Kageyama, a superstar player known as “King of the Court.”

Vowing revenge, Hinata applied to the Karasuno High School volleyball club… only to come face-to-face with his hated rival, Kageyama!

And with those two volumes, Haikyū has ended. I’m really glad that my cousin got me to catch up to the series because being a part of the sheer joy and love that’s poured out the fandom these past few months has been refreshing to my spirit. I enjoyed the way Furudate brought the series to its conclusion, by giving all the characters a future and room to grow. I hope to hear more from him in the upcoming years.

2. Looking for Group by Alexis Hall

I read Looking for Group because I was reading up on Alexis Hall in anticipation of Boyfriend Material, which I will talk about later, and saw the synopsis:

So, yeah, I play Heroes of Legend, y’know, the MMO. I’m not like obsessed or addicted or anything. It’s just a game. Anyway, there was this girl in my guild who I really liked because she was funny and nerdy and a great healer. Of course, my mates thought it was hilarious I was into someone I’d met online. And they thought it was even more hilarious when she turned out to be a boy IRL. But the joke’s on them because I still really like him.

And now that we’re together, it’s going pretty well. Except sometimes I think Kit—that’s his name, sorry I didn’t mention that—spends way too much time in HoL. I know he has friends in the guild, but he has me now, and my friends, and everyone knows people you meet online aren’t real. I mean. Not Kit. Kit’s real. Obviously.

Oh, I’m Drew, by the way. This is sort of my story. About how I messed up some stuff and figured out some stuff. And fell in love and stuff.

And I knew that I had to read it. Immediately.

I enjoyed it way too much. The characters were adorable, the conflict was done well, the geeky gamer wrapper was AMAZING and the author never dropped the ball on integrating the online game into the narrative. It was very readable and I enjoyed the atmosphere of the book immensely. I also may have spent a heady week or so thinking of playing WoW, but I avoided that temptation. Made me miss uni too, and the way my friends and I would spend countless hours with each other.

3. Boyfriend Material by Alexis Hall

Wanted: One (fake) boyfriend Practically perfect in every way

Luc O’Donnell is tangentially–and reluctantly–famous. His rock star parents split when he was young, and the father he’s never met spent the next twenty years cruising in and out of rehab. Now that his dad’s making a comeback, Luc’s back in the public eye, and one compromising photo is enough to ruin everything.

To clean up his image, Luc has to find a nice, normal relationship…and Oliver Blackwood is as nice and normal as they come. He’s a barrister, an ethical vegetarian, and he’s never inspired a moment of scandal in his life. In other words: perfect boyfriend material. Unfortunately apart from being gay, single, and really, really in need of a date for a big event, Luc and Oliver have nothing in common. So they strike a deal to be publicity-friendly (fake) boyfriends until the dust has settled. Then they can go their separate ways and pretend it never happened.

But the thing about fake-dating is that it can feel a lot like real-dating. And that’s when you get used to someone. Start falling for them. Don’t ever want to let them go.

I came into this book with high expectations after Looking for Group, and my expectations were mostly met. The few issues I had were ultimately negligible, probably cultural differences or conventions of a genre that I’m not familiar with. The characters were strong, and I found the book funny. I know it sounds as though I’m damning it with faint praise, so I’ll say it plainly: it was an enjoyable read and I was totally invested in the romance. I think it’ll make a really good film as well.

4. The Subtweet by Vivek Shraya

Everyone talks about falling in love, but falling in friendship can be just as captivating. When Neela Devaki’s song is covered by internet-famous artist Rukmini, the two musicians meet and a transformative friendship begins. But as Rukmini’s star rises and Neela’s stagnates, jealousy and self-doubt creep in. With a single tweet, their friendship implodes, one career is destroyed, and the two women find themselves at the center of an internet firestorm.

Celebrated multidisciplinary artist Vivek Shraya’s second novel is a stirring examination of making art in the modern era, a love letter to brown women, an authentic glimpse into the music industry, and a nuanced exploration of the promise and peril of being seen.

If you’re a millennial and if you’ve ever had complicated friendships, this book will ring really true for most of it, I think. I kept wincing at the characters’ actions and “mistakes”, recognising them as things I or my friends have done, but there are portions of the story that I found inaccessible because Neela, the main character, just seems really opaque even when they’re the ones speaking. The music Shraya made as a companion to the book slaps and can be found here.

5. Empowered 11 by Adam Warren

Costumed crimefighter Empowered finds herself the desperate prey of a maniacal supervillain whose godlike powers have turned an entire city of suprahumans against her.

Not good! Outnumbered and under siege, aided only by a hero’s ghost, can Emp survive the relentless onslaught long enough to free her enslaved teammates and loved ones, or is this–*gulp*–The End?

From comics overlord Adam Warren comes Empowered, the acclaimed sexy superhero comedy–except when it isn’t, as in this volume’s no-nonsense, wall-to-wall brawl guaranteed to bring tears to the eye and fists to the face!

Warren’s tying up a lot of loose ends and answering a lot of questions and I’m wondering if that means Empowered‘s ending soon. I haven’t seen any info regarding this, even though the words “The End” are right there in the summary, because comic books always lean on the whole the hero could die! thing, and more often than not they never do. But Emp has come so far in the past 11 volumes, and I think that she’s ready to confront a lot of the stuff that Warren’s only hinted at in the past. Most of Empowered is about how Emp deals with failure and how she rises above it, and recently it’s become about how other people have failed her, rather than how she has failed, and how she deserves better. I’m worried about her, but at least we are another volume’s worth of evidence for the Emp/Thugboy/Ninjette OT3.

6. Sex and Vanity by Kevin Kwan

The iconic author of the bestselling phenomenon Crazy Rich Asians returns with a glittering tale of love and longing as a young woman finds herself torn between two worlds–the WASP establishment of her father’s family and George Zao, a man she is desperately trying to avoid falling in love with.

On her very first morning on the jewel-like island of Capri, Lucie Churchill sets eyes on George Zao and she instantly can’t stand him. She can’t stand it when he gallantly offers to trade hotel rooms with her so that she can have the view of the Tyrrhenian Sea, she can’t stand that he knows more about Curzio Malaparte than she does, and she really can’t stand it when he kisses her in the darkness of the ancient ruins of a Roman villa and they are caught by her snobbish, disapproving cousin, Charlotte. “Your mother is Chinese so it’s no surprise you’d be attracted to someone like him,” Charlotte teases. Daughter of an American-born-Chinese mother and blue-blooded New York father, Lucie has always sublimated the Asian side of herself in favor of the white side, and she adamantly denies having feelings for George. But several years later, when George unexpectedly appears in East Hampton where Lucie is weekending with her new fiancé, Lucie finds herself drawn to George again. Soon, Lucy is spinning a web of deceit that involves her family, her fiancé, the co-op board of her Fifth Avenue apartment, and ultimately herself as she tries mightily to deny George entry into her world–and her heart. Moving between summer playgrounds of privilege, peppered with decadent food and extravagant fashion, Sex and Vanity is a truly modern love story, a daring homage to A Room with a View, and a brilliantly funny comedy of manners set between two cultures.

This was the third romance novel I read in July, and that’s honestly the highest concentration of romance novel I’ve ever had in my life. I know that I’m supposed to find romance novels like super kilig and stuff, but so far I am just very anxious for romance novel protagonists all the time. I think that the whole thing about the romance novels I have read is that they’re mostly about how deeply anxious people learn how to allow themselves to be loved and that is tough! I wanted to protect Lucie all the time! I was Invested in her Welfare, and I don’t think I cared about Rachel Chu from Crazy Rich Asians half as much, even if you condensed all my attachment from the entire trilogy. Also, small spoiler, there is a hint that Sex and Vanity is in the same universe as Crazy Rich Asians, which I think is awesome.

6. Trust Exercise by Susan Choi

Pulitzer Finalist Susan Choi’s narrative-upending novel about what happens when a first love between high school students is interrupted by the attentions of a charismatic teacher

In an American suburb in the early 1980s, students at a highly competitive performing arts high school struggle and thrive in a rarified bubble, ambitiously pursuing music, movement, Shakespeare, and, particularly, their acting classes. When within this striving “Brotherhood of the Arts,” two freshmen, David and Sarah, fall headlong into love, their passion does not go unnoticed—or untoyed with—by anyone, especially not by their charismatic acting teacher, Mr. Kingsley.

The outside world of family life and economic status, of academic pressure and of their future adult lives, fails to penetrate this school’s walls—until it does, in a shocking spiral of events that catapults the action forward in time and flips the premise upside-down. What the reader believes to have happened to David and Sarah and their friends is not entirely true—though it’s not false, either. It takes until the book’s stunning coda for the final piece of the puzzle to fall into place—revealing truths that will resonate long after the final sentence.

As captivating and tender as it is surprising, Trust Exercise will incite heated conversations about fiction and truth, friendships and loyalties, and will leave readers with wiser understandings of the true capacities of adolescents and of the powers and responsibilities of adults.

This is a book I could not stop reading and I felt gross after I finished it. I think that I enjoyed it and that the narrative flips were well-done and it was engaging, but Choi writes teenage trauma in 3D, and you can smell her scumbag characters. Very good will never read again unless looking to feel bad.

Re-read:

Temeraire: His Majesty’s Dragon, Throne of Jade, Black Powder War, andEmpire of Ivory by Naomi Novik

Aerial combat brings a thrilling new dimension to the Napoleonic Wars as valiant warriors ride mighty fighting dragons, bred for size or speed. When HMS Reliant captures a French frigate and seizes the precious cargo, an unhatched dragon egg, fate sweeps Captain Will Laurence from his seafaring life into an uncertain future – and an unexpected kinship with a most extraordinary creature. Thrust into the rarified world of the Aerial Corps as master of the dragon Temeraire, he will face a crash course in the daring tactics of airborne battle. For as France’s own dragon-borne forces rally to breach British soil in Bonaparte’s boldest gambit, Laurence and Temeraire must soar into their own baptism of fire.

I started re-reading it because I wanted to introduce it to my girlfriend, and I outpaced her very quickly, and selfishly. She’s still at the beginning fourth of Throne of Jade, and I feel like I blinked and gulped down four of the books in quick succession. I had to stop myself after Empire, in a very belated effort to sync up to my gf’s progress. The series is amazing, and I don’t know if I’ll ever read one like Temeraire again. Being able to revisit it should be enough, really, because every time I do it’s as though I’m caught up in a strong and wonderful wind that fills me up with delight and awe. Novik’s starting a new series this September, and I hope it’s just as good.

That’s it for July! I’m probably going to do two books at a time for my Wikathon posts, just to keep things fresh and current, so keep a weather eye out for those posts!

July, next verse, same as the first Hey! Wikathon na! I've started reading Relocations by Karen Tongson, about a third through now, but I had to take a little detour through…

#books #books 2 #reading #reading 2

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lukalew · 4 years

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- - - The Affectionner - - A Creepypasta Origin

Axel Coss, black haired boy, with a white streak of hair going down the middle of his front hair. Strange really, not many kids a white streak of hair. But, moving on from that, he lived with his mom, Cece Coss, his dad, James Coss, and his two brothers, Ames and A.J. Triplets of course, they did everything together . Play, draw, clean, and otherwise. They all five lived in St. George, Utah, on a empty land, with their house and field. After the triplets were born tho, James and Cece decided to move to Kansas. But that didn't work out well. So, they moved to Mississippi. Where the triplets are now 15. School was pretty easy and all, everyone loved them. Well, the majority of people in their school. Axel was really the quiet and calm one, Ames, the short tempered, and A.J, the awkward type. So, they all kinda just stuck together like a pod. A couple more and now they are all 25 , well...two are at least. Ames and Axel- now , A.J ... when he turned to the age of 22, he got kidnapped and was tortured to death. LITERALLY. Nobody was able to find him. Until 2 months later, after he died he was found in a rusty old grey building. Almost looking like it was gonna collapse. His face torn, ripped...his arm and legs broken. It was just a nightmare, but thats only the start of it.

Ames got pretty emotional afterwards - Axel didn't say much after as well. He sometimes stayed in his room for hours , not eating, sleeping, nothing really, just thinking. 4 months passed and later on, Cece and James had been kidnapped by the same guys from when A.J was. And the parents died as well. The kidnappers had been caught and taken to jail. Ames soon left Axel, and if he was being honest to himself..he was glad Ames left. After everything that happened Ames started to drink and abuse Axel. Thats when his life became even more of a living hell. Work got harder, the bills were too much, and nothing could really make him happy at this point. Except for thing. Stitching. He would stitch blankets, stuffed animals, and when he got a bad cut- sometimes even himself. That was the only thing...for now. He was like cursed or something. Thats when he got to point- - -"Your fired." "What?" his voice shuddered as he clicked his pen a few times. "Your..FIRED!! You always mess up on the cars when we are on break- and you are too quiet- good for nothing piece of roadkill!" his boss, Keith, screeched as he took a fair raise of the hand and slapped him across his ear to mouth-that somehow cutting him. I mean, he was holding a wrench so- that probably why. Axel gently ran his finger down his face from his ear to mouth and felt the blood rushing out. "O-okay, under-s-stood..sir." the male exhaled taking th scarf he brought in with him because it was usually cold in the warehouse. Axel slid it on and ran home. At this point it was too much. He sat on the dining room chair rethinking his entire existence. "Do i even matter?...Of course i don't- not to my parents, not to my boss, ...not to my family.." out of the corner of his eye- he spotted a small, brown and white gun. "Thats it..." he said to himself, with a faint- but crazy smile. He walked to the gun, and made sure it was loaded. The black haired male pointed it to his heart and shot himself. Blood splattering on the wall and carpet. No screams, no cries, no pain. With the last bit of energy that he had, he shot himself in the head...

"Hey! Ax! Over here!" his brother A.J shouted waving from the field. He smiled softly and ran to the other versions of him. "whats up?" he asked kneeling down to his height. "Why do you always wear that scarf? It kinda looks like its from the eighteen hundreds." Ames spoke lifting a piece of the scarf up from Axel's neck. "Well, this girl at school gave it to me." He laughed softly rubbing the back of his neck. "Ooooooo!- Axel has a crush! Axel has a cru-" Ames interrupted what A.J said by pushing him backwards- "Oh shut up, its probably just a present." he sighed. "Whatever you say, maybe you should ask her out! Whats her name??" A.J declared getting up and picking some dandelions from the ground and putting them in his hair. "O-Oh uhh, her name is Jane-." Axel slightly blushed. Ames sighed laying down with his hands behind his head. "Yup, just as i expected- good old Jane Arkensaw.. she's kinda a brat if you ask me." "H-hey! Thats not true, she's actually really nice if you get to know her." A.J looked confused. "Isn't she the one who hasn't been coming to school for some time?" Ames glared at A.J- "Yes, yes she is." Axel replied taking the dandelions out of A.J's hair and putting them in a row at the top of his black silk hair, seeing he was struggling to put them in since they just get falling out. "i hope she's okay tho..."

HIs eyes shot open and then rubbed his head. "just another stupid nightmare..." he calls them nightmares because, well to him they are just painful memories. He put on his boots and looked at the calendar, "Huh....Macy Stars...well, this should be fun." He sighed and git his scalpel, stitching utensils, needles, thread, and his scarf. Ax put the scarf on and walked out with his drawstring bag.

(This is the bag btw)

He followed the directions where it told him to go. Now, he would normally go on his own free will and time, but it was like Slender decided when she dies. He shrugged it off and soon arrived. "This must be it huh?" Ax sighed ruffling his own hair a bit so his scar would show as much. He thought if you had scars it makes you weak, can't take care of your self. Anyways, he quietly entered through her back door,which was unlocked. "Who leaves their back door unlocked at a time like this?" The medium hight male said looking at the sunset and took in a deep breath then exhaled. That sorta calmed him down. Axel walked up the stairs and looked in the bathroom to see her doing her makeup. He had to admit she was beautiful, but still worthless to him. She was in fact a girl that went to his school. "There we go!" She smiled at herself in the mirror and did a duck face as if the mirror was taking a photo of her. She was really nice to him and all, but he didn't care, he didn't care about any of the victims of his. "They don't deserve this love...." he shuddered under his breath. Axel walked in holding a scalpel and his eyes now looking fully gold. The brown faded away, no mercy in his look. Macy spotted him in the mirror and screamed backing up her back hitting the sink. "How did you get in my house?!" She screamed and reached for a small mirror of hers and hid it behind her. "That's a pretty stupid question to ask...more concerned how I got in your house...then how your gonna survive this? Well, I can answer that for you. Your not." He walked to her and slashed the scalpel across her face- giving her a scar as well, "OWW- YOU LITTLE-" She screamed in pain holding one side of her face and taking the mirror and trying to hit him with it. Axel sighed seeing her on the ground, she had fell. He bent down, and grabbed her arms- putting them together. "W-wh-What are you doing....?!" She asked in a shaky tone. No response, he softly held them tightly tighter and took out his stitching utensils and started to weave her arms together. "Ow stop please!!" She begged trying to kick him- but he was almost done with the stitching process. Is she really that weak, stitches don't even hurt that bad, it's like poking yourself with a sharp en or pencil. Macy looked down at her sewn arms and her eyes as wide as the galaxy. "I really don't like loud noises you know... so, if you would have just been quiet I wouldn't had have to do this.." he softly whispered in her ear and sew her mouth together. No matter how hard she tried to scream- it was all just muffled noises. "There we go. Now, if you don't mind me, I will proceed to kill you." Her eyes were wider now. Tears formed in her eyes and just looked down. "Aww.. come on now-" he started to say, lifting up her chin and wiping the tears away. "I'm just putting you out of your misery- we only live in this world to die, it just is stressful for me to see people in pain like this." That was a lie of course. He didn't care if his victims were hurt, physically or mentally.

He cut open her stomach and found her heart. "There it is..." he took another piece of thread and needle then started to stitch a X into her heart. Soon, a golden piece of light came out of her heart and Axel held his arm out-the light transferred to his arm and he sighed in relief. "That felt good," he thought then looked down at Macy. "You know, life is as valuable as your love.." he smiled then ripped her heart out in one light pull. Her body falling to the floor . He smiled softly and set the heart near her makeup. He always set the heart of theirs next to something they loved. "Now that that's done," he sighed getting up and grabbing all his things and heading out.

His appearance strikes so many people, sometimes he would pretend to be a human to lure in victims. He is a handsome, kind, boy- so it's pretty easy. But he doesn't do it often, only when there's nobody really good to kill.

He still has his black hair with the white streak. And of course, he wear a big grey scarf around his neck with a small black X at the bottom of the end of the scarf. A beige, sorta brown jacket. Sometimes he would wear a black zipped up leather coat, but that's only when it's really cold outside. Black pants with a chain going form the top right corner of his belt, to the lower half of his left side. Sorta like his scar. Black boots with a stitched in X at the bottom corner of both boots. Some witnesses have said he is a tall, around 5'5 , male. Some people say he takes in emotions, that's not really it tho...

See, what he can do is- he only takes peoples lives, who get a lot of love, and give a lot of love, and not really sad people. He would climb through their windows at night , or when they are alone. But in some cases he just breaks in wherever he can. Axel is a ghost, spirit, otherwise. But he doesn't really like doing all of that appearing in thin air thing. Ever since people have reported sightings of him, he tries his bets you stay of out sight. Axel will use his stitches to sew a big X into their heart so he can acquire all the love that has been given to the person, or, the love that they have to share. If they attempt to scream or fight back, he will sew their mouths closed- or arms and legs together. The reason he takes the affection from his victims is because, his parents gave him none- and when he was alive, nobody gave him any either. After some time, the affection runs out, so he needs to restock it every 2-4 days. If one of his victims try to give him affection before they die, he will go to their height smile at them , and say...

"Im afraid ...your love means nothing to me.."

He also has another famous quote which is..

"Life is as valuable as your love."

If he were to go on a mission with a creepypasta - his most compatible people would be

-Puppeteer

-Jason The Tomaker

-Eyeless Jack

- Laughing Jack

- Jane The Killer

- Sally

- Zero

- and Judge Angels

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bazzybelle · 4 years

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Carry On Countdown - Day Seven

Notes: Right... confession time.. So, I posted this fic yesterday... But, I’ve been having a really difficult mental health week (lots of self-doubt, self-isolation, and weeping) and it all came to a head last night when I spiraled and deleted this story (my depression/anxiety/Imposter Syndrome demon caught up to me, I guess). I was also close to deleting all my other fics and potentially closing my account, but @fight-surrender and my amazing husband talked me down from the ledge so to speak. It was actually their support, along with the amazing kindness of @giishu that convinced me to repost my story... so here it is.

Lyrics are inspired by “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” by The Beatles. However, I was inspired by the version from “Across The Universe”, sung by T.V. Carpio (Such a great movie and soundtrack).

Thank you to @carryonsimoncarryonbaz for their writing support and amazing beta-reads.

Also, this is the last story until the Angst prompt... I’m also gonna take it easy with my writing. Going back into it after 8 years of numbness and denying my passion hasn’t been easy and it’s beginning to take its toll on me. I have so many ideas, but I want to feel well enough in my head to be able to write them properly (in case you haven’t noticed, I like writing about healing and hopeful futures... kinda hard to do that if you’re spiraling). I’ve got a few more stories already prepared for the Countdown, but I’m not making any promises on writing for other prompts.

TW: Extremely minimal (like blink and you’ll miss it) reference to drugs.

Day 7 Prompt: WLW

Title: I Wanna Hold Your Hand

________________________________________________________________

Please, say to me, you’ll let me hold your hand. Now, let me hold your hand. I wanna hold your hand.

FIONA

The music here is bloody terrible.

So’s the alcohol. But what else can I expect from a dingy little pub in this dodgy area of the city? Besides, it isn’t the alcohol I’m here for, which is a shock, considering how much of it I drink.

Nor am I here for this horrid music. I look at the stage and a skinny little whelp is crooning a pathetic rendition of a Pink Floyd song. Kid can’t be older than 18, of course he’s singing a Floyd song. I swear, you listen to Dark Side of The Moon one time, and suddenly you think you know everything there is to know about music.

Good Lord… he’s doing a Floyd medley. News flash, boyo, you cannot transition from Wish You Were Here to Another Brick in The Wall without raising a few eyebrows.

He isn’t a bad looking bloke though. Shaggy brown hair, styled so it’s away from his eyes. He’s got a bit of a long, oval-shaped face, a little gaunt, but not too much. He reminds me of someone… Ah… George Harrison! He’s got a bit of a George Harrison vibe, I reckon. A part of me wants to snap a photo of him and ask Baz if he’d fancy him, but the last time I did that, he chewed my ear off for a week.

Dramatic little shit. I’m only trying to help. He’s so edgy all the time. Baz is about to head into his final year at Watford and honestly, he needs to let loose and have a little fun, before the pressures of being a Pitch crushes him…

Maybe I’m being the dramatic shit...

I leave George Harrison to his crooning (Christ, he’s moved onto Money. Does he only know the popular Floyd songs? Tosser), and direct myself to the bar. The person I’m here to see greets me with a wide, toothy smile.

“Well well, look who it is. How are you, love?” bellows Shannon Ryan (Shan for short). Shan is the annoyingly vivacious proprietor of the Golden Griffin Pub and Inn. She is all hair (bright, thick, ginger-red, with a generous amount of blond and strawberry-blond highlights, that falls in tight ringlets down her back) and little to no filter. She’s the kind of person that can decide in an instant if she’ll offer you a free pint, or if she’ll drag your sorry arse onto the curb. Most of the time, she’ll offer you the pint and a wink of her dark brown eyes.

I give her a half smile and take a seat in front of her. Shan pours me a glass of Chivas (Bless her, she knows I love the stuff) and leans her elbows on the counter. I salute her and nod at George Harrison.

“Heads up Shan, if your lad starts playing Comfortably Numb, I may have to murder him with his own guitar.”

Shan playfully punches my shoulder. Normally, I’d retaliate with a knife to the throat, but I’m not nearly so… angry when Shan’s around. I can relax around her and allow myself to be a little playful.

“Aw, come on now Prue, Mickey’s not that bad. A little rough around the edg-” She starts to laugh, because George Harrison’s begun to sing Comfortably Numb and I begin to crack my knuckles. Shan grabs my hands and gives them a pat. “Alright, very rough around the edges, but he’s a sweet kid.”

I met Shannon about 4 months ago. It was during one of my lower points. I had been on a wild bender, drinking, smoking up, everything. At some point, I lost all recollection of where I was and what was happening. I still don’t know how long I’d been out of my mind at that point, but I somehow ended up at Shan’s pub, trashed out and rambling nonsense. Shan took one look at me and she decided that she would give me a room and a bed, instead of throwing me out (a horrible decision, really). I woke up in an unknown room, in an unknown bed with her knocking on the door.

I nearly killed her.

Shan managed to calm me down and gave me some breakfast. Fat greasy bangers, perfectly poached eggs, fried tomatoes and back bacon. She had informed me that I had been out for quite a while. I remember feeling like a numpty had taken a beating to my head. She had offered to let me stay there so that I could recover from whatever was causing me distress. Instead of taking the hint and staying there, I gathered my belongings while she was gone and slipped out. That would have been the end of it, but I had returned a few days later to pay for my room and board. Shan refused to take my money, and instead asked that I pay her back by coming to see her from time to time. Originally, I was only supposed to come see her until the end of the month… But here we are, four months later and I still find myself wanting to come see her.

Shan doesn’t know my real name (She knows me by my middle name, Prudence… I swear my family gets its kicks from naming their offspring ridiculous names), nor that I am a magician from a long line of magical aristocracy. She does not know that I am embroiled in the middle of a war that threatens to rip my world and my family apart. Maybe that sense of escapism is why I keep coming back here, why I keep flirting with this Normal pub owner.

I turn back to her now. She is cleaning some of the dirty glasses that have been left on the bar counter. It’s a quiet evening tonight, not many patrons at the pub. Shan’s pub can gain a small gathering during the weekends, mostly young folks out on a crawl. Some tend to stay here on account of the atmosphere, and Shan’s personality. Tonight’s one of the quieter nights. I blame George Harrison mucking it up on the microphone.

“Where do you find these characters, Shan?”

“Beats me. They sometimes just show up needing a spot. Mick’s been tossed out from his home, poor child. I give him a room, he works the bar. It all works out.”

Shan sometimes uses her rooms to shelter people who may need a place to stay. I wasn’t a special case for her. Any misfit or vagabond has a place to stay at Shan’s. I suppose that explains George Harrison, who has just finished his set and has exited the stage, thank Merlin for that. She’s now turned on her online music playlist, an eclectic mix of punk, classic rock, and current indie songs. It makes no bloody sense, but the patrons aren’t mad about it.

“You’re too generous Shan.” She rolls her eyes and proceeds to serve some other patrons who have been waiting for her. Once George Harrison arrives behind the counter, she sends him off to prepare orders while she turns back to me.

“And you, my dear friend, are far too cold. What brings you here tonight? Chasing one of your hoodlums, again?”

With the war brewing between the Old Families and the Mage, I have been tracking down members of the magical community who have been shunned and cast away by the Mage and his reforms. The Old Families believed that we could find some support amongst the masses who’ve been mistreated by Davy and his band of Merry Men. If I’m in the area, I’ll stop by the pub for a quick drink and a chat.

Like I said, it’s been happening more often than not.

Today is different. I am not here because I’m in the area. I felt the need to be here. Maybe it’s the bitter heat of August in London; Or maybe it’s the fact that it’s August 13th, the thirteenth anniversary (plus a day) of my sister’s death that brings me here. Normally, I’d be home, drinking myself into a stupor until enough time has passed where I don’t feel the grief anymore. I never allow myself to drink on the actual day of her death, because I’m too busy spending the day with Basil and Malcolm (Basil mostly), making sure that they’ve kept their heads in one place. I look out for my nephew first and once the day has passed, I go home and begin my process of drinking and mourning.

For some reason, I didn’t want to be home alone today. I don’t know what came over me, but I felt I needed to be here, at Shan’s pub. But I’ll never tell her that. So instead I put on my classic Pitch smooth face and smile slyly at her.

“Who says I need a reason to be here? Maybe I just decided to come over.” Shan rolls her eyes at me. She faces me and leans over the counter, inches from my face. I have to look away, in case she notices the small blush creeping over my cheeks. I take another sip of my Chivas before looking at her once more. I tilt my head at her and smile. She places her hand on mine and pushes it down, until the glass is back on the counter.

“You’ve always got a reason, Prue. You don’t allow yourself to do anything simply because you want to.” Now, I roll my eyes at her. I down the remainder of my Chivas and slam the glass back down on the counter. I cross my arms over my chest and pull myself back from the counter.

“Oh? And what exactly do I want?”

Shan also steps back from the counter. She’s got her hands on her hips and shrugs at me. She takes the bottle of Chivas and pours me another glass.

“I am not nearly qualified enough to untangle the mess in your mind, Prue. I can only offer a listening ear and a reasonable amount of alcohol.” She leans back against the wall. I stare at her for a minute and take in how she looks in the pub’s dim light. Shan’s got incredibly light skin, but it isn’t entirely pale and the dim lighting in here is showcasing her pretty features. She’s wearing a black tank top under a dark purple vest that cuts just at her waist. She’s got on dark jeans and a light gold studded belt. Shan pulls her hair back into a very high, very messy bun at the top of her head. A few strands still hang loose and frame her face. I draw a shaky breath and take a sip of my scotch. I speak softly, more to the glass than to her.

“My sister died. Yesterday has been 13 years since she died.” Shan relaxes her posture and approaches me again. I don’t shift my position at all. If she thinks she can get me to open up more than that, she’s wrong. I won’t come undone by a pretty girl with bright red hair.

“You don’t want to be alone then?” Shan reaches for my hand. I don’t let her take it. I’m still focusing on my drink and the patterns of the wood grains on the counter.

“I am perfectly fine to be alone Shan! I’ve been alone for many years, what’s another one?” I straighten my back even further, attempting to close off my walls. They had been slowly coming down as I spend more time with Shan, but thinking about yesterday, about Tasha, about the losses in my life, have caused me to build them back up with a more reinforced metal.

Now, I’m here again, in front of Shannon, and the metal around my heart is starting to melt again. What power does this Normal have over me that she can make me feel this way? Shan exits from her side of the bar and she comes to sit down next to me. I want to turn away from her, but I can’t find it in me to do so. I’m running my fingers along the rim of the glass when I feel her tough, guitar-calloused hand lay on top of mine. I refuse to look her in the eyes. She gently places my hand on the counter and turns it over. I finally look at her as she clasps her hand in mine.

“What if you didn’t have to be alone?” Her deep brown eyes are staring right into my grey ones. I can feel my heartbeat beginning to pick up. My breathing becomes a little erratic. I have not felt this in such a long time. Not since my final year at Watford. Not since I had my heartbroken into pieces and decided to shut it down forever. I start to pull my hand away, but Shan holds it tight. I frown at her and glare at her a little bit.

“People like me are meant to be alone.” I try to make my voice sound icy and intimidating. But, Merlin help me, it sounds breathless, like I’m chocking it out. I take a sharp inhale of breath through my nose. Shan, the fool that she is, reaches over and grabs my other hand, she gently turns my body towards her and leans a little closer to me. She speaks in a soft and calm voice. I almost miss what she says because of the music in the background.

“You don’t have to be alone.”

She leans in closer to me. I feel a small flutter in the pit of my stomach. I want to lean into her as well, but something stops me. I can’t. I can’t. Not again. Never again. I pull away from her and jump out of my seat. I ignore the confused and saddened look on Shan’s face and I fumble in my bag for my wallet.

“I have to go.”

Shan grabs my arm and tries to look at me again. I will not give her the satisfaction of seeing me coming undone. I will not let another person into my heart only for them to destroy it again. I can’t handle more pain and misery.

“Wait… Prue I-” She’s going to beg me to stay, I don’t give her a chance to finish.

“Thank you, Shannon. I’ll see you soon.” I pull out some notes and slam them onto the counter. I yank my arm away from Shan’s grasp and stalk out of the pub, leaving her sorrowful brown eyes behind me.

I am meant to be alone. I don’t need anyone, especially not some nobody Normal. Even if the same nobody Normal is currently holding a key to my heart. I go home, fully intent on drinking my conflicting feelings away.

________

Six weeks.

Basil’s been missing for six weeks and I haven’t had any luck in finding him.

I have tried every bloody spell I could think of. I have poured over every single one of Natasha’s old books in that blasted library. I have even tried to contact some of the undesirables in my midst to see if any of them knew anything. None of them could tell me any information. Even though I threatened and screamed and even cast spells to force them to give me any information, none of them had any information to give me.

I was losing my mind. I wanted nothing more to march into Watford myself and threaten the bloody Mage himself, or even that stupid snivelling little magling, Simon Snow. The only thing preventing me from torching the damn school was the fact that The Mage knew exactly where Baz was and he could decide to retaliate by hurting or even killing him. He was not above murder, the bastard.

The latest call we got from the numpties had demanded wands from us. They must have been bloody joking. Malcolm, the fool, was already looking for spare wands. I called him a spineless idiot, and if he couldn’t see that this wasn’t about a simple ransom, well then he really was more feebleminded than I thought. I told him that my sister scraped the bottom of the barrel when she married a Grimm and stomped out of the manor.

The bloody numpties were holding him near some water, so I drew up a map of potential spots where he could be hidden. I was not going to rest until I searched each and every one, no matter how long that took.

I now find myself walking down a familiar dodgy street, towards a familiar pub. I have not been back since Shan grabbed my hand and I almost allowed her a piece of me. I decided that I would not go back there and risk anything more happening between Shan and myself. To go back would mean I would have to talk about what almost happened, and to do that would mean I would have to either lie to her or give into my feelings, neither option really appealing to me. Still, I need to start a fight. I need to yell at something and punch something. And the thought of Shannon throwing me out of her pub and her life because I caused a fight with her patrons is exactly what I need to revitalize myself on this search mission.

I storm into the establishment and see a few confused clientele staring at me. I should pick out which unfortunate character will be my target, but my eyes wander to the bar. I want Shan to be watching.

She isn’t there. But her pathetic little ward is. I march to the bar and before the weasel says anything, I grab his shirt sleeve and pull him over the bar counter. I roughly toss him to the floor. The boy yelps in surprise and lifts his hands up to protect his face. I am not done yet. I am about to lift him up, when someone grabs my arm. I spin around and I’m about to deck them, when I see her deep brown eyes.

“PRUE! That’s enough!” Shan looks absolutely murderous with rage. I have never seen that look on her face before. I give her a cold hard stare and sneer at her.

“Get. Your. Bloody. Hands. OFF. ME!” Shan returns my stare with a scowl of her own. She keeps her hand secured on my jacket and begins to drag me outside.

“We’re going outside, NOW!”

Well that was fast. I didn’t even get to have any fun.

Shan shoves me outside and practically tosses me onto the floor. I am astounded by the strength she has, considering just how skinny she is. But she does this for a living. She’s had to toss out larger folks than myself. I dust off my jacket and straighten out my jeans before turning to Shan, who is still wearing a livid look on her face. Her hair, although braided, has a frizzy halo that surrounds it. I already regret coming here.

“I like you, Prue. But I will not have you starting fights in my pub! Either you tell me what’s gotten into you, or you can kindly fuck off!” She points an accusing finger at me and then out towards the street. I should be honest with her, but I have a knack for self-destruction, so I push my luck.

“Oh fuck off Shan!” She steps back, shocked at first by my demeanor. But she then shakes her head and scoffs. She steps up to me and responds with a coldness of her own.

“If you insist! But this whole tough bitch attitude is getting bloody exhausting! Call me once you’ve calmed yourself” she says as she begins to walk away. I want to let her go back. I want to watch her leave and never see her again. But my damn head won’t let her leave. I call out before I have a chance to stop myself.

“My nephew’s missing...” Shan stops in her tracks. She turns to me, her furious face already changed to one of deep concern. “He’s been missing for nearly 6 weeks and I’m going out of my bloody mind!”

She approaches me cautiously. I know she is still very angry with me and my actions. She asks me smoothly, “Have they demanded a ransom?” Shan knows well enough to not ask about law enforcement. With the type of charges she takes in, the reality is that law enforcement will typically make matters worse.

I roll my eyes and answer her. “We don’t pay ransoms in my family!”

Shan stares incredulously at me, “Are you daft? I don’t know what kind of business you’re running Prudence, but I think the life of your nephew is worth a ransom payment, yeah?”

“This isn’t about a ransom, Shannon! It’s something more! Oh forget it! I’m wasting time, I could be using to search under bridges or in sewers!” This was a mistake. I never should have come here. I turn my back to Shan and start to walk away.

“Under bridges?” She asks me. I stop and turn back to her.

“The kidnappers sounded like they were near running water when they called. Which, considering this bloody city, could be fucking anywhere!”

“Christ…” Shan starts to shake her head. She put her hand to her face, as if she was starting to ponder something. It is enough for me to march right back up to her.

“What is it!?”

“I thought he was being batty…” Shan delivers that line in such a thoughtful way that I almost want to be gentle with her.

Almost. But Basil is missing and this is the first tiny morsel of a clue that I have had for six weeks. So I grab Shan’s shoulders and press her further.

“Who was?! What do you know Shan!?” She frowns at me and shrugs me off.

“Nothing, Prue! I volunteer at one of the homeless shelters in the city and one of our regulars was going on about how one of his favourite sleeping spots near the river was overrun with boulders. It looked like someone was trying to hide something there. The man’s a little mad. He claimed that some of the boulders were moving.”

Moving boulders?! Bloody fucking hell! That’s it! That’s fucking it! Six weeks, I’ve been going mad trying to find Basil, and all this time, the one place I should have been looking was amongst the vagabonds and the homeless. Christ, go figure I’d find my most important clue with Shannon fucking Ryan.

“Where is he now!!?” I demand of her. Maybe a little too harshly. I really couldn't care less if I hurt Shan’s feelings anymore. I need to find this drifter as soon as I can.

“Prue! You can’t be-” Shan tries to calm me down, but I am not having it. I am so close to bringing my nephew home, I am not stopping now. I get up to her face and nearly shout at her.

“You tell me where he is now, Shannon, or I swear to Christ…” Shan shakes her head at me, but she caves in and sighs at me.

“You are a lunatic, Prudence. But he’s most likely at Whitechapel. He’s been spending most of his time th- Prue!” I’m already walking away. I have all the information I need.

“I’ll see you later, Shan.” I say to her. Maybe if I survive this, I’ll come back and apologize for being a proper psychopath towards her. Maybe she’ll forgive me. For now, I have more important matters to attend to.

“Prue! Come back! You can’t do this alone!”

That’s where you’re wrong Shannon. I’ve had to do everything on my own. It’s what I’m best at. I can still hear her shouting into the night, even though I am far from the pub at this point.

“PRUDENCE!”

________

I am once more, back at the Golden Griffin. The pub has just closed for the night, but I know that Shan is still inside. She usually stays behind a few hours after closing time in order to clean up the place. I stand right in front of the door, taking a few moments to decide if I want to knock on her door, or if I should leave. I lift my fist to the window on the door. I’m about to knock when Shan’s head pops up from the side of the door. She looks surprised to see me at first, then… is that relief? She whips the door opened and pulls me inside.

“Prudence…” she whispers to me. She holds my hand in hers. Merlin, what is she doing to me? I let go of her hand and stuff my hands into my jacket pockets. I clear my throat and start to talk.

“He was alive. I found him in time.”

“Your nephew. I’m so relieved to hear that.” She’s got her hand over her heart and she sighs in relief. Has she truly been worried this whole time?

I feel guilty for not coming back sooner. But I had to make sure Baz was fine and then well, I wanted to start planning retribution for this attack on my family. I hadn’t realized that it was mid-November and I still had not gone to see Shan.

And so, here I am. At 2AM on a Tuesday. At this pub once more, in front of this Normal. This Normal who is nobody important, from a nobody family. Yet, all I’m hoping is that she can forgive me for my foolishness.

“You said I couldn’t do it alone. I did it alone. I found him, I got him back. I didn’t need anyone.” I just have to antagonize her, don’t I? I am a Pitch after all. Shan shakes her head, like she was ready for this to begin with an argument.

“I’m happy for you Prue. Truly, I am.” She responds with an icy sarcasm. Her arms are crossed and she is leaning away from me. She isn’t up for having a go at me. I take a half-step towards her and offer an olive branch.

“My real name’s Fiona. Fiona Pitch.” Shan drops her hands to her hips. She gives me a cold stare and shakes her head. She then raises her hands slightly only to cross them again. She’s upset and I can’t say I blame her. I’ve only been lying to her for several months.

“Fiona. Christ… Alright…”

“Prudence is my middle name. I didn’t know you.” I offer her an explanation. She rolls her eyes at that and continues to stare at me.

“Fine, Fiona. What do you want from me?” She waves her arms and points to her chest. I furrow my eyebrows. I don’t know how to answer her question. I also don’t like how she calls me Fiona with disdain in her voice. As if she’s talking to someone she doesn’t know or care for. I suppose I deserve that.

“I don’t need anyone. I’m perfectly fine to be on my own.” I take another half-step towards her.

“What do you want from me, Fiona?” She asks me again. She is challenging me. Her voice, while still severe, is more inquisitive. She wants me to answer her, to let her in. To allow her another piece of me.

I am not ready to answer her. Instead I continue to fight her and my own feelings.

“I do not want another person coming into my life only to destroy it again!” I turn my head away from her as I expose a tiny piece of myself. Shan now steps forward. She is a breath away from me now. I want to touch her hair, her face, her hands.

“What do you want from me, Fiona?” Her voice has now lost its edge, its icy tone. She is softer now, asking me to trust her. She reaches for my hand. I let her take it. I look down at our clasped hands, and I remember the last time she did this. I’m going to try and not run away again.

“But then you held my hand… You held my hand. And you told me I didn’t have to be alone!”

“I did.” She says so sincerely.

“And you helped me find my nephew.” I try to divert the conversation. I don’t know if I’m ready for this. Merlin help me, I am not ready for this.

“I can’t take credit for that.” One of her hands has reached up to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“You helped me.”

“What do you want from me Fi-” She asks one last time. I feel her breath on my face. I give in.

This time, I am ready to answer her.

I lean forward and kiss her. Her lips feel so soft, if a little chapped. Shan responds and returns my kiss. One of my hands has moved to the back of her head. I feel her thick soft curls in my hand. She has gripped my face in her hands. I feel her tilt her head and start softly nibbling on my bottom lip. I respond by lightly running my tongue over her teeth. I’ve wanted this for so long. Merlin knows why I’ve been denying it to myself. Our kiss breaks apart and Shan leans her head on the crook of my neck.

“You. I want you, Shannon. Ever since you grabbed my hand and threw my world into bloody turmoil!” I whisper into her hair. She pulls away from me and looks at me as if I’m the most insane person in the world. She wouldn’t be wrong to assume that. I’m pretty sure there is a history of insanity within my family.

“Well fuck, Prue… All you had to do was ask. But instead you ran away and acted like a bloody maniac. You could have talked to me, you know!” She shakes me lightly.

“I bloody well could not!” I look away from her and shake my head. She wouldn’t understand. I am not the type of person who stands at the doorstep of a lover begging them to take them back or to love them. Even if I was, Shan’s life is wholesome and uncomplicated. All I am is one complication after another. She doesn’t need that in her life.

“Why not? Help me understand you, Prue.” She’s grabbed my face again and she’s staring me down. Merlin help me, in the light, her eyes look like pools of honey. I grab her wrists tight.

“I’m a bloody mess, Shan. I have no direction. I’m a disgrace to my family. A disgrace to my name.” Shan smiles at me. She runs her hands through my hair and I sigh. I’m a fucking mess. If my sister could see me now, she’d be so fucking disappointed.

“You don’t have to be FIONA PITCH with me.” I snort sarcastically as she says my name with a snooty accent. “With me, you can be Prue. I like Prue a whole lot. She’s wild. She’s intense, but she’s got a good heart. She’s bloody gorgeous to.” With that, she grabs me by the back of my neck and pulls me into another deep kiss. My hands trail down to her hips and hold her in place. My thumbs tuck inside the hem of her jeans and run across her skin. It feels so soft. So perfect. We pull away again and I laugh a little.

“I can’t promise that I won’t run away or that I won’t be a complete maniac.”

“I can’t promise that I won’t kick your arse for being completely daft!” Shan flicks my white streak.

“This could be a bloody disaster…”

“Or not... Just don’t threaten my bartender again, or I may have to kill you.” She gives me a playfully wink, but I know she’s dead serious. I respond with a raised eyebrow and a tilt of my head.

“I’d like to see you try.”

With that, Shan cocks a half smile at me. She takes me by the hand and leads me away from the pub towards the stairs that lead to the Inn. She closes the lights as we walk up the stairs.

I am not ready to give my heart to another person who could very well break it. But with Shan, I’m willing to risk it.

Normal life be damned.

And when I touch you, I feel happy inside. It’s such a feeling that my love, I can’t hide.

#carry on countdown #coc 2019 #wlw #repost #because i'm a mess #fiona pitch #badass fiona #next day repost #i won't delete it this time #carry on #wayward son #no spoilers here #my writing #fanfic #piss off demon #I'm still here and I'm still fighting

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futurewriter2000 · 6 years

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Attraction

A/N: Ugl, I know this is not requested or a serie but it’s kind of personal to me and none of my favorite writers didn’t want to write it. So I wrote it myself and here is the result. Hope you like it <3 (also sorry for not posting much. I just have my first job and its really exhausting me)

PAIRING: Fred Weasley x reader

TAGS : @siriusly-loves-snuffles, @slither-in-a-half, @nadinissavage, @shadyladyperfection, @geeksareunique, @ashkuuuu, @xinyourdreamsx, @maralisa124, @loserslytherpuff, @chloe-geoghegan1, @heritier-de-la-ravenclaw, @musekala, @moonysmilkshake, @crispyfrenchfrieschrusis, @unicorn-sparkles123

He was funny. So humorous, flirty, kind and sympathetic. His smile was always present on his lips and his comments never disappointed you. He was, what you would call, a crush.

To be completely honest you didn’t even know he was a fellow Gryffindor until your fifth year. Yes, you knew he was your classmate but you were distracted by everything else to notice him. You’ve grown to like the boy since the fifth year. You’ve grown to like him quite a lot. To you, he was your muse because nobody could ever be so damn perfect and flawed as Fred Weasley was.

He was tall and handsome. His body was in perfect shape and it kept being like that due to Quidditch. His arms looked slim but they were strong, following into perfect broad shoulders. He usually wore sweaters or hand-knitted jumpers but when he wore a normal T-shirt, that was when his fit shape really showed. His hair was always messed up. How could it not? He was always up for some trouble, always inventing new things, things he was passionate about. And the way his light brown eyes sparkled with mischief everytime somebody mentioned trouble. How he looked at you with those big round eyes, confused yet in the light they showed a light color of hazel. It matched his ginger hair perfectly. They were flaming red yet the dark smoke always seemed to cover that color. To be honest, you never saw his hair clean or combed but when it was, it seemed confusing because you weren’t used to that Fred.

He knew you existed. You have been his classmate for years and you always seemed to help George with his Herbology. George was kind and nice, a tad crazy like his other half, and he was assigned your Herbology partner in 4th year when he was creating a ruckus with his twin. The kind and loving professor Sprout lost her mind that day completely, separating them and having a close eye on them both. George got a bit better with Herbology since you became his partner, but he was awfully distracted by his twin on the other side of the classroom. He wasn’t the only one though.

You and Fred didn’t talk much to each other. You were always talkative and comfortable around others but when he was around, you completely froze. You couldn’t concentrate on anything else. He just walked in and took away your focus with his presence. You always said you shouldn’t like a boy like him. He dated many girls, snogged with one of your closest friends at the Hufflepuff win party, Angelina Johnson. Though you told yourself you weren’t having feelings for the boy, hearing that, hurt. Of course, nothing else happened with Angelina except a one-time snogging but you knew he always had eyes for her. Sometimes when the two of you talked it was mostly arguing. He seemed to pull some of your nerves with all the talk and no action. As he talked awful of your classmate in Divination, a Ravenclaw snitching on him, you had to defend him. Yes, you weren’t close with the Ravenclaw boy anymore as you were before but he was still someone you cared about.

Fred, however always saw you as a classmate and nothing more or less. He knew you and Angelina were friends but at times even a Gryffindor like him isn't brave enough to face a girl he snogged a month ago. He had fancied Angelina for a few months now but he didn’t have the balls to go to her and ask her on a proper date. Maybe he wasn’t looking for a date. Maybe he was looking for someone to snog. Someone he liked and that was Angelina, not you.

And it broke your heart whenever you thought about it. Fury was what you felt when you knew Angelina had that chance but thought of Fred just as a one time mistake. You envied her because you would do anything for that boy to be yours. Maybe a snog was what you needed, to try and solve the puzzle that has been bugging you all this time. Do you have real feelings towards him, or is it just the attraction?

Attraction worked so oddly. You were drawn to Fred, feeling the chemistry, the pull, the appeal, the magnetism... But as you sat with his twin, who appeared to look just like him, same shoulders, same eyes (maybe slightly rounder than Fred’s), and the same messy ginger hair with smoke among those strands, all you felt was... normal.

“ I should have never taken this stupid class.” he complained for the hundredth time in one whole hour, tilting his head backward and running his hands down his face.

It was late, yet you were determined to learn him all the magical properties and usage of plants you’ve learned back in the First year. “ Too little too late, don’t you think.”

“ This is garbage. I promised Fred we’d plan that prank together and now he’s doing it all on his own. “ he huffed and dropped his head on the table, face down. “ I don’t want to do this.” he whined, turning his head towards you and begging with his puppy dog eyes.

“ Fred can wait. Your exam can’t. Now trust me when I say this is as painful for me as it is for you. I am fluent in Herbology and professor Sprout loves me..or she did until you were assigned, my partner. Now, I just have to finish this year until I leave this-”

“ Leave? “ he shot his head up, feeling slight pain poking his in the head before focusing back on you. “ What do you mean leave? “

“ Oh shite. “ you cursed under your breath, throwing your head on your palms and rubbing your eyes. “ Why do I ramble so much? “

“ You’re leaving? “

“ It’s just, my parents are moving to America and I am transferring to Ilvermony for my last year. “ you looked up at his dark brown eyes, simpering at him. “ I mean not that anyone will miss me...”

“ Don’t say that. I’ll miss you. You’re my Herbology partner, you help me with ...well you know, Herbology. “ he kept the serious look in his eyes. “ Plus, you will never be able to tell Fred you fancy him.”

“ Ha! “ you scoffed of laughter, leaning back on your chair and crossing your arms over your chest. “ I don’t like your brother, Georgie.”

“ Oh, please. You give him almost as much attention as I do. Plus you become all stiff and quiet when he is around.” he argued back, causing your mouth to fall agape before closing.

“ Pff. I am not stiff. I am loose and comfortable and you know it.”

“ I do know it. But not when he is around. Like, I don’t get it. Why don’t you just ask him out? “

“ Because I don’t see myself as his girlfriend. Yes, I feel some sort of attraction towards him but it’s confusing. I am attracted but I don’t like him.”

“ You don’t like my brother? “ he asked, slightly offended, causing your head to drop in defeat. You tried to explain but he just doesn’t get it.

“ Okay. Get this through your thick head, Georgie. I do not want to date Fred Weasley. Yes, he’s an okay person but he’s not serious. Not that I want him to be but at times, his jokes and pranks or whatever the two of you do- all I’m trying to say that I just think he is not right for me.” you sighed, lowering your head before looking back at the boy in front of you.

He crinkled his nose and grinned. “ I love it when you call me Georgie. “

“ You’re unbelievable.” you giggled and lightly punched his arm.

“ You’ve got my attention. The first girl who doesn’t want to date my brother. “ he winked at you, causing your cheeks to blush.

“ You get your attention to this stupid plants I have to teach you.” you replied with a scold, pointing your index finger at the book full of plant photos.

“ AHA! So you do think this is stupid. I freaking knew it. “ he crinkled his nose once again at you but you only pushed him away.

“ Just shut up and learn. ”

----

The whole gang was in the common room, laughing and hanging out. There was Katie, Angelina, Fred, George, and Lee. The famous five.

You always envied them. They were a nice group of friends but you were always the kind of person who picked their friends carefully, meaning you had trustworthy and amazing small circle of friends.

So as you passed them by, a letter in your hand and your focus on the girl's dormitory, George noticed your presence and immediately ran after you. “ Merhaba, (y/n). “ he greeted you, wrapping his arm around you and turning you around towards the group.

“ Weasley? “ you quirked an eyebrow. “ Learning Turkish I see.”

“ My new passion.” he replied, walking you back to the group.

“ So I see your brain is working just fine. If you can learn Turkish, so can Herbology.”

“ Ugh!.” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “ Not today, please.”

“ Yeah, whatever. What do you want? ” you slipped away from his hold.

“ Come join us! “ Angelina chirped, cutting in before George could speak and jumping over to you with her every move being followed by Fred’s eyes, which you took notice in.

“ Yes, darling. Come join us! “ George shouted and threw himself on the armchair which Angelina sat before.

Though you wanted to join them, you still felt like you were forcing yourself to hang out with them. Angelina always told you that you should hang out with them more but you couldn’t trust them. They just weren’t your type of friends you’d feel comfortable with. Of course, you felt comfortable with Angelina and Katie as well as George but you always got an odd vibe from Lee and Fred. You somehow knew you weren’t welcomed here, though they both tried to be nice and polite to you. “ I wish I could but I have this letter to read and reply to.”

George immediately got back on his feet and grabbed the letter in his hands, turning it around in his hand. “ From Pistachio? “ he puzzled, looking confusedly at you.

You heard a laughter come from the couch, the loudest was, of course, Fred’s. “ Who the hell is Pistachio? “

“ She’s a friend. “ you grabbed the letter from George and stepping further away from him as possible before turning to the group. “ She actually one of my closest, childhood friends and Pistachio is just a nickname I gave her when we were kids. It just stuck like that.”

“ Oh, so you do have friends.” George teased and was immediately hit on the shoulder.

“ I also have a crazy mind and a bad temper, so don’t tick me off. “ you growled at him but he only crinkled his nose at you again and grinned. He always looked so cute when he did that.

“ I haven’t seen that bad temper yet. I have to step up my game if I ever do before you leave.”

“ Leave? “ Angelina furrowed her eyebrows at you, frowning. “ You’re leaving.”

You hit George once again with the letter in your hand, latter followed by a stronger punch. “ Thank you, Georgie.” you gritted your teeth, turning to Angelina and simpering at her. “ I’m just gonna finish my last year there. I’m leaving right after the end of this school year. “

“ But- you’re my fashion buddy.” she pouted and you chuckled.

“ Better not find another one until I come back. “ you tried to cheer her up and succeeded.

“ Well, we have two months left together so I won’t leave your side. “ she spoke with determination.

“ Great.” you smiled at her before noticing the confused look Fred was giving you. “ What? “

“ You called him Georgie. I’m usually the only one allowed to call him that.”

“ Well, she’s allowed as well.” George beamed. “ She just says it so sexy.” he winked at you, causing you to roll your eyes.

“ Always so confident when around your friends, aren’t you George.” you smirked at the boy but he only sent you a grin.

“ No. Say it.” George grinned again. “ Correctly.” he added as he stood up from the armrest.

“ I won’t.” you scoffed, crossing your arms once again.

“ Come on. For me.” he fluttered his eyelashes at you, causing you to roll your eyes and walk away.

“ Bye, Georgie.” you started walking upstairs, George gasping dramatically before falling back on the couch. Stopping, you turned around and waved at the others, your eyes locked with Freds. “ Night guys. “ and you were gone.

After you disappeared, Angelina turned around with a lovely twirl and hopped back to her spot. Though she knew everything was fine, she couldn’t help herself but feel odd. She glanced at Fred and his eyes weren’t on her anymore. They were set on the stairs you walked on a moment ago.

A lack of attention was missing but she brushed it off, turning it into some teasing. “ Distracted much, Fred.”

Fred shook his head to her, watching over to her with a confused look in his eyes. “ Hm, what? “

“ Don’t tell me you like her.” Katie spoke, getting Fred’s attention.

“ Like who? (y/n)? No, of course not.” he quickly denied even though he felt completely focused on you.

“ Ha. Even if he did like her, he wouldn’t have a chance with her.” George laughed, creating a few confused faces around him.

“ Why not? “ Katie furrowed her eyebrows.

“ Yeah, why not? “ Fred repeated after her, sharing slightly different but still confused expression as the others.

“ Shortly put, your not her type.” George replied.

“ Really? “ Angelina spoke in disbelief. Of course, she has always thought you were into Fred. Something about you was always different when he was around. It was in both, Fred and you. She could have described it as chemistry but it really wasn’t. Sometimes the two of you didn’t speak to each other at all or when you did, the conversation was short, teasing or smiling at each other.

“ Yeah. She said she could never see herself dating him.” George continued, not even thinking twice about what he spoke.

“ Auch. That must hurt, Fred.” spoke Lee, smiling at him.

“ Not him, just his ego.” Katie joked around, getting a mocked glare from Fred.

“ Bog off.” Fred brushed them off and laid on the sofa, faced at the ceiling.

There was always something about you he couldn’t figure out. He loved your eyes. They were always smiling with your mouth curved into a wide beam. He also loved your honesty. Getting into argument with you was challenging. You just didn’t give up on it. When he was complaining about the Ravenclaw boy, he was so surprised you raised your voice at him. You were right in that argument but what, he was 16. An age where every boy acts like he is ten years younger. The two of you were quite alike but different in so many ways. He envied George that he got along with you better than him. You seemed to get along with pretty much everybody, including Angelina, Katie and sometimes he even sees you laughing with Lee. Why not him?

And why, everytime he sees you with George, playfully punching each other and laughing, whispering and giggling, he catches himself staring at you with a glare? Why do you make him so mad all the time? Especially now when he found out you would never go on a date with him. Why not?

----

He could hear your giggle from another side of the class. Knowing George was right beside you, it seemed to be a lot louder. The way you snorted when you tried to hide the laugh which wanted to escape your mouth. Or the way you warned George to stop making jokes in class. It drove him mad.

His eyes were up on the board, wanting to copy the notes professor Sprout wrote. They were stuck like that for the whole period. His eyes focused on the board while his ears on the giggling which came from two students in the back.

“ No, George. Don’t. “ your whisper seemed to become louder. “ Georgie, please.” you continued, your hands preventing George to pour the potion over the gorgeous plant. “ I swear to God, give me the potion.” you started to warn him with a sharp edge in your voice, causing Fred to smirk.

And all of a sudden there was a loud blast, causing all students to cover their ears and turn around at the pile of smoke. And there the two of you were, both with wide eyes, staring at the dead plant while the dark amber smoke covered both of your skin. Letting out a few coughs, the two of you looked at each other and burst out laughing.

The class laughed as well, pinching their noses and grimacing at the smell. Fred laughed the loudest, he always did, but seeing you as George wrapped his arms around you, that laugh soon disappeared and his smile turned into an angry frown. He grabbed you tightly, laughing, while you tried to get out of his grip, losing all the balance and falling off your chairs. It was a ruckus but professor Sprout laughed along, shaking her head and trying to keep a serious face.

“ Will we have to switch seats again, Mrs. (y/l/n) and Mr. Weasley? “ she asked as she walked to the two of you, helping both of you to stand back on your feet.

“ He is just so unreasonable.” you lightly punched him in the shoulder, crinkling your nose at him and pinching his while he mimicked your expression. “ Stubborn like his brother.” you smiled, switching your gaze at the other twin and noticing the forced simper he gave you. It gave you another uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach but you still kept the smile on your face.

Fred however quickly calmed down after his eyes met yours. But they changed as soon as they landed on him. Firstly, they were so joyful and after they observed his expression, they changed and looked away from him.

“ Class dismissed. You two, come with me.” professor Sprout ordered you and George.

The two of you quickly made your way towards her desk, snickering and whispering to each other.

Fred made his way to his desk, grabbing his books and making his way out but he couldn’t go without glancing back at his brother and you. And while he waited for his brother, which he told himself he was doing, he couldn’t help himself but replay every single moment the two of you had together. The day the whole class went ice skating and you seemed to skate better than him, which revolved into a lot of teasing. The glances the two of you caught each other giving and the lovely-

“ I cannot believe you got me in detention! “ your voice echoed through the corridor while punching George on the shoulder once again.

“ Auch! It hurts. You want to kill me, woman.” he rubbed his hand over the painful spot

“ Oh, you-”

“ So you think I’m stubborn, huh? “ Fred cut you off, leaning forward and looking at you with those big round brown eyes.

You felt your breath get caught up in your throat and your heart raise its beat. “ Annoying, sarcastic yet still humorous too. “ you pointed out with a smirk while he only watched. “ There is a tad of arrogance but we’ll let it pass. More or less idiotic yet it’s fun watching you get embarrassed because of it.” you winked, walking alongside them.

“ I think this is the nicest you have ever been to me. “ he let his hand touch his chest, fluttering his long eyelashes at you.

“ Thursdays are my nice days. “

“ But it’s Wednesday? “ Fred grinned and you returned the gesture.

“ Guess, today is an exception.” you smiled and noticed your friend waiting around the corner. “ Anyway, I have to go but see both of you ..” you lifted your hand to look at your imaginary watch. “ Sometime else.” you smiled before running over to your friend and greeting her with a hug.

Boys waved at you and walked in the opposite direction. And though George was talking to Fred, Fred could help himself but think about something completely else. You.

“ So what did you mean yesterday she doesn’t want to date me? “ he blurted out of nowhere, causing George to snicker beside him.

“ Really, Freddie? “

“ What? “

“ Are you seriously considering dating her? “

“ What?! No.....maybe.”

“ Oh my god! “ George started to laugh, holding on to Fred’s shoulder and grabbing his stomach. It was all funny until George straightened his posture and looked Fred dead in the eyes. “ Yeah, no.”

“ What? “

“ Freddie. She likes you but she’ll say no. Trust me on this.”

“ She likes me? “ Fred smile turned into a more wide beam before George slapped his head.

“ You’re such a twat. If you really want to know why she doesn’t want to date you, go and ask her yourself. Just stop bugging me about it.” George lifted his hands in annoyance as he walked away. He stopped and turned around once again. “ And do it before she leaves. “

---

And he did. He was determined to talk to you before you leave.

“ Oi! ( y/l/n )! “ he shouted as you tried to climb the stairs.

Thinking it was George, you smiled to yourself and turned around only to find a different twin standing in front of you. It was easy for you to separate them. It was all in the energy Fred gave you that George didn’t. That feeling, that attraction. “ Fred? “

“ (y/n). Hey, hi. “ he felt a bit nervous. “ I need to talk to you.”

You smiled as he only stood there and watched you. “ Yeah. So, talk.” you giggled, looking at your feet before back up into his gaze.

“ Private..”

You looked over to the empty common room, stretching your neck to see over his shoulder and around, hearing him chuckle. “ You’re right. That couch over there looks like a curious lil shit.” you grinned at him and he returned a nervous smile, confusing you. “ Are you okay? “

“ Yeah, yeah. I’m fine..” he mumbled, feeling his hands getting clammy and his stomach twist in a knot.

Why was he nervous all of a sudden? He never got this nervous around a girl before. And what did he even want to tell her?

“ Sooo.” you swayed on your tiptoes, trying to break the awkward silence. “ You wanted to talk to me about..? “

He breathed in all the air he could manage so that his lungs were full but still nothing came out.

“ Fred? “ you quivered and put your hand on his shoulder, worrying about him. “ What’s wrong? “

“ Why don’t you want to date me? “ he blubbered out, causing your eyes to pop out.

“ Wait, hold on. How-” you stopped after pondering it in your head. “ That little snitch.” you narrowed your eyes at the empty, shaking your head in fury.

“ You really thought George wouldn’t tell me? “

“ I don’t understand why you would care. Why are you asking me this exactly? “

“ I- I don’t know. Maybe because I want to know why? “ he mumbled quietly, where shyness took over his usual confidence.

“ Because I just don’t see myself with you.” you replied more harshly than you intended to.

“ Why not? “ he started to raise his voice as well.

“ Because...”

“ Because of what? “

“ You know what. It doesn’t matter.” you brushed him off and left for your dorm.

“ IT DOES MATTER! “ he shouted and you twitched at his hoarse voice. He realized the way your fingers clawed the fence and he didn’t know if it was because of fear or anger. “ I’m sorry, I just... I just don’t understand us.”

“ Us? “ you turned around with a glare.

Angry. You were angry. Good to know.

“ There is no us, Fred. There never was and apparently, there never will be. “

“ And why do you think that? “

“ Because you don’t like me, Fred! You don’t like me the way I like you! “

“ And that is why you don’t want to date me? Because I don’t share the same feelings for you! “

“ YES! THAT IS EXACTLY WHY! “ you yelled furiously yet desperate. You rushed back to him, glaring at his round eyes that always seemed to make you melt and tonight was no exception. “ I know. I know you like Angelina. I know that I am nothing but a classmate to you who hangs out with George a lot. I know you don’t think about me every night before you go to bed and I know that you don’t become jealous or angry everytime I am with another guy. “ you voice started to become more shaky and weak. “ I know, Fred. “

And somehow, he was hugging you. His arms were wrapped around you, squeezing you tightly, while yours sneaked around him and pulled him closer. Your head was laid on his chest and you could feel the beat of his heart calm down.

It was the first time. The first time the two of you were close and it felt so right. It felt warm and comfortable, something the two of you never were around each other. Both of you felt it.

“ I do. “ he spoke softly, breaking away from the hug and cupping your cheeks. And as you looked up with your red glimmered eyes, he simpered softly and brushed the falling tears from your cheeks. “ I do get angry and jealous when I see you with George or any other boy. The Ravenclaw and how the two of you connect with only a look. You just get along with others so well but with me... “

“ You’re judgy.” you simpered and he let out a laugh.

“ I’m not judgy. “ he defended, his eyes watering as well.

“ You act judgy. “

“ Well, I’m not. “ he laughed and got a hold of your hands. “ I’d love to give us a chance but ...”

“ But I’m leaving. “ you sighed and glanced down at your hands.

“ Can’t you stay? “

“ It’s not that easy. I already have a summer job, an interview with the Ilvermorny headmaster and my parent-” your rambling was stopped.

He kissed you softly on the lips. A soft and slow kiss that made your heart explode in your chest. His thumb supported your chin and he smiled into it. Brushing his lips against your, he looked up into your eyes and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “ I can wait. “ he whispered, giving you another soft kiss and interlacing his fingers in your hair.

“ A promise is only a promise if it’s from the heart. “ you smiled sheepishly, causing him to snort of laughter.

“ Cheesy. It suits you.” he spoke in a low whisper, his forehead leaned on yours. “ Wait? “ he moved away. “ Is today Thursday? “

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #weasley twins #harry potter imagines

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littlemix-styleblog · 5 years

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Little Mix Inspired Maternity Dresses

Perrie

ASOS DESIGN Maternity denim smock dress with frill in white: £30. First of all I would like to apologise massively..I could`ve done so much better with this inspired but unfortunately maternity wear is still very limiting these days despite it growing in trend. Not every brand or shop sells Maternity wear so it was hard to find a reliable, safe place where you can pick up a good bargain that is inspired by the girls, so once again please accept my apologies. So the first dress I picked up was this one was from ASOS, inspired by Perrie. When you`re pregnant you don`t want to feel frumpy or a mess you would want to feel comfortable, secure and trendy. I would assume it would be a hot day for you so you would want to feel easy and have no stresses in life. This is a simple, modern and classic dress with sleeves to cover your arms in case it is a bit chilly or windy. You can pair this with some brown sandals, a pair of sunglasses and a nice shoulder bag.

ASOS DESIGN Maternity button through twist front maxi tea dress in seersucker: £40. This dress is inspired by a dress Perrie wore in Dubai last year, I dunno if you saw it but her dress was piratically the same colour with buttons going down the dress with short sleeves. Her dress was very classic, simple and trendy and It became a big hit with everyone within this fandom. And why not recreate this look with this dress? Piratically the same, Except her one is now out of stock now. This dress covers all of the body, So will hide the insecurities you have with your body at the moment, It may cover up everything but shows a little skin at the top and the bottom keeping the dress demure and mature.

ASOS Queen Bee skater dress with fluted sleeve in pastel yellow: £50. I absolutely love this dress, Think this is my favourite. The simple reason I chose this dress is because of the colour. Pastels are bang on trend at the moment and a pastel lemon is perfect for the summer months. To make this dress even cuter is the sleeves, They are not to long or to short. You can definitely enjoy a lemonade and some strawberries with this dress. You can also team this dress up with sandals and a straw shoulder bag. This dress is also available in pink

Zara TEXTURED WEAVE DRESS: £39.99. Hands up, Who knew Zara did maternity wear? I certainly didn`t and this was a surprise to me. Luckily Zara came up trumps and we got a few fabulous pieces from them including this one. As we all know Perrie`s style these days is very much boho/Chic and this ticks all of those boxes. It comes down to just below your knees and again will hide all of those features you don`t like about your body, In case theirs a chill in the air you have some sleeves to keep you warm. Not only would this be ideal for a special occasion but you can also wear this casually either on holiday or for a coffee. When you become a mum your style and body changes and most people would want to mature and tone down their image..This dress would be perfect for before baby and after baby as you are staying on trend but not looking like you just came out of a 12hr labour.

Zara STRIPED DRESS: £12.99. Perrie was recently seen wearing a dress very similar to this one, Unfortunately we are unable to find that one...yet. But this is much like the previous one, except this one is in the design of a shirt dress so has structure and definition to it. Again this can be worn before baby and after baby and can be worn casually as well. I`d also like to note how cheap these dresses from Zara are...What a bargain!.

Topshop MATERNITY Button Through Midi Dress: £29. This dress is a spin off from the previous green button down dress I showed you, Except this one is more structured to your body rather than flowing. Nothing wrong with that..You do you. You`re having a baby, be proud to show off your baby bump with a gorgeous smile and beautiful body and show people this is reality. I also have another alternative to this dress without buttons here.

Jesy

ASOS DESIGN Maternity ultimate smock dress in snake print: £20. Jesy`s style was the hardest for this post, Sure there was many black dresses in the shops but none of them seemed Jesy`s style which is why we didn`t go with them. Not everyone wants to wear black during the summer months and seem like a debbie downer. But we have plenty of prints on offer including this grey snake print dress from ASOS. I know snake print is not everyones cup of tea but it is on trend at the moment and popular with everyone including pregnant ladies. This dress is the smaller version we have, But we also have it in a longer version here

ASOS DESIGN Maternity Nursing midi dress in leopard print: £38 Again, I didn`t have much to choose from for Jesy`s style but this is the closet I could find. Again this print wouldn`t be to everyone`s taste but the dress has a lot of trends going on at the moment with the puff quarter length sleeves (Which BTW will make your arms look longer) and it`s also down to your knees so will cover any insecurities you may have.

ASOS DESIGN Maternity button through rib tea dress with puff sleeve in animal print : £28. When you`re pregnant you would want everything to be easy and stress free, That would include putting clothes on, Lifting things or going up the stairs. What you would want to be easy is feeding your little one, Which is why it`s normal for maternity dresses these days to have nursing elements to it, Such as a easy way to feed your baby when you`re out and busy, It`s simple, quick and easy without no trouble. This dress is very versatile so you can wear this before baby and after.

Leigh

ASOS DESIGN Maternity cape back dipped hem midi dress: £38. Another one of my favourites purely because of the colour. But Leigh was seen at a fashion show this year wearing a gorgeous Burberry yellow ruffle dress, So beautiful that it wasn`t even available :(. Now I`m not saying you don`t have to bend over backwards to get that dress, But what I am saying is that a lot of places do very similar identical dupes to that dress...Hand on heart i`ve seen it everywhere it`s very a very popular style this year. This dress ooozes maturity and class, the colour is pleasing to the eye and you would most certainly look like a yummy mummy.

ASOS Mamalicious maternity shirt dress with pocket detail: £38. Leigh`s was also difficult which made my life a lot more difficult too but we eventually got their. So as of late Leigh was seen on holiday wearing a lot of citrus colours, Girl did good as it complimented her skin tone. Citrus/bold colours arent to everyone's taste and we all can`t pull it off like Leigh let`s admit that, But it`s good to experiment and change up your style every so often. I chose this dress because of that reason and because it`s another dress you can wear before and after for a casual day out.

Topshop MATERNITY Belted Midi Dress: £25. Again, Another one of the body fitting dresses in case you did want to go down this route. Not really sure what the belt is doing as it kind of ruins the look but will go with it.

Dorothy Perkins Maternity Yellow Shirt Dress: £17. Basically a alternative to the green one but in yellow and because we had to fill the space in the photo. But it does everything the green dress does as well.

Zara EMBROIDERED TUNIC WITH POCKET: £29.99 Another beautiful Zara dress on offer, This dress is the best out of the Zara lot imo. It`s very classy, demure and elegant. Another you can use before and after. If there was a dress I would say go for, it would be this one.

Jade

New Look Maternity button front dress in red ditsy floral: £15.99. Not as of late, But recently like last year Jade has been seen wearing florals. She has a red floral playsuit and a collection of red floral dresses now. So we pushed the boat out and got this for you. This is a fun little dress with buttons coming down making it easy for you to feed. You can wear this with sandals or white trainers with a shoulder bag.

ASOS DESIGN Maternity mini v neck button through smock dress in stripe: £22. Now the reason why I chose this dress is because Jade can sometimes be a tomboy in her style and this shouts tomboy to me and this is probably what I would wear if I was pregnant. Stripes are big at the moment so nothing wrong with being on trend. This is also a fun little dress which you can team with white trainers.

Séraphine Bonnie Spot Maternity Dress, Black/White: £59. Now have you guessed why I chose this dress yet? Well I`ll tell you in a moment but I chose this dress because believe it or not Jade has worn white white polka dots before so it was inspired from that. This dress is a little on the pricey side but don`t forget how versatile this dress can be. The reason why I did choose this dress is because the Duchess Of Cambridge Kate Middleton wore a white polka dot maternity dress from Topshop when she was pregnant with George and everyone and I mean EVERYONE went crazy for it because it was cheap, easy to get and it fitted her so well. So if that was one reason to get the dress you got it. We also found this dress available in navy

Seraphine Monochrome Floral Maternity & Nursing Dress: £32. I chose this dress in case you didn`t want to go for the red floral option, nothing wrong with a black floral dress. This one is a bit smaller, but that doesn`t mean you can`t have fun with it before and after baby. Pair it with sandals or white trainers and a shoulder bag.

This post contains a affiliated link, This means we make commission if a purchase is made through this link. You will not be charged any extra. We add these links to keep the blog running.

#Little Mix #Perrie Edwards #Jade Thirlwall #Jesy Nelson #Leigh Anne Pinnock #Seraphine #ASOS #John Lewis #Dorothy Perkins #Zara #New Look #Topshop #Inspired

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captainnickjohn-blog · 5 years

Text

Hold My Beer. I Need a Career.

Forgive me, I'm a sucker for stupid rhymes.

I normally really don't enjoy bringing attention to myself, but for my first blog post, I wanted to, well....bring attention to myself.

Specifically, I wanted to write about my interest in beer. You might be wondering, "yea, who isn't interest in a beer right now?", or just straight up, "how is that even an interest?"

Well, over the last couple years I've spent time reading books, watching videos, visiting places, speaking with experts, all about beer. It’s something I've appreciated learning more about and I wanted to discuss how this interest has brought me to where I am today. This is an exercise in reflection for me. For you, there are some insights about me as well as some decent photos of beer!

I'll be examining how my beer interest came about and how I threw myself into it. I'll also talk about how I hoped to take this interest and turn it into something of a career. Finally, some thoughts about where my head is now and how my goals may have altered, but not eliminated something that I really enjoy.

Also just FYI, it's been really f**king hot outside. Let this post be a reminder to cool off with a delicious, cold pint. *insert wink face*

Beer Beginnings

It was September of 2016, I was a line cook at Jack Astor’s and I just got moved up to becoming a server. Moving from a line cook position to serving was a lot to take in all at once: learning the steps of good service, carrying three full plates at a time (took a lot of trial and error, and hungry irritated guests), and learning all of the different specialty drinks and beers.

At that time, Jack Astor's had over 20 draught taps and already I was wondering, "how on Earth am I going to remember all of these?" As luck would have it, the restaurant decided to add an additional 20 taps to their repertoire, which made me double down with, "Seriously, how on EARTH am I going to remember all of these??"

Memorizing the names of all the beers was one thing, but retaining every beer's style, flavour profile, aroma, and attitude (I’m kidding, that's not a thing) were daunting to me. My solution: I had to learn about beer!

Back then, I was only drinking classics like Canadian or Budweiser; if it were hot enough I'd even go for a Kronenbourg Blanc or a Shock Top, but for me, that was a bit of a rarity. Hell, I honestly didn't even know that beer was broken up into two categories: ales and lagers, maybe YOU didn't even know that!

So to tackle this problem of mine, I took the time to watch several beer videos and look at beer infographics. Once I felt I knew about enough about the foundations of beer, I went back to the Astor's 40+ draught beer menu and guess what - it took WAY less time than I'd thought to remember all of the beers!

My work was done; I knew all 40+ beer taps and their styles, and I could even somewhat comfortably talk about the beers’ tastes to guests (with a pinch of BS). However, the more I spoke about beer at work and after reflecting on the beer learning I had done, I had the realization that I genuinely LOVED learning about beer. That whole process for me was actually kind of a blast.

While writing this part I've thought about a time before this where I had a blissful learning experience, and I completely blanked. That was very telling to me. So, I figured I should commit myself to learn more about beer.

To get started, I ordered the mother of all beer books from Amazon, "The Oxford Companion to Beer." Given the size and scale of it, I prefer to call it The Holy Beerble:

P.S. I am aware I don't keep a very neat workspace, coffee stains and all.

Over 800 pages of diligent research on almost every single thing about beer that you could imagine. Beer countries? No problem. Beer styles? Yup. Beer history? Child's play. That one famous beer guy who did that one famous beer thing? It’s in there. This encyclopedia was amazing. The sheer amount of research done to create this is absolutely astounding. Even today, I will read through it and continue to make notes. I even ordered a couple more books on beer:

This was fun for me. I didn't mind taking the time to learn more about something I ACTUALLY liked.

Committing to the 'Craft'

Work at Astor’s was slowing down going into the winter of 2017. By then, I would casually read beer articles online or look through some of my beer books. Beer is a fun subject to learn about and share with others. That said, I felt that it was time I should try making my own beer! I knew a solid amount about the beer-making process already i.e. the mash, the boil, fermentation, bottling, etc., and I felt I should apply what I know to make something of my own. Maybe I could impress friends and family, save money on buying beer from the LCBO or The Beer Store, and it would add another layer to this new hobby of mine.

I figured a brewing kit would be my next subsequent Christmas gift to myself, so what I did was start simple: a 1-gallon starter kit, 10 empty beer bottles, bottle caps, bottle capper, other miscellaneous brewing equipment, and some 2-row barley and Cascade hops.

Homebrewing and commercial brewing are different behemoths, and I knew more about the commercial brewing process. That wasn't really going to help me here because I didn't have 50+ hectolitre tank to brew beer in, so I had to watch a few YouTube instructional home brewing videos to get in the right mindset.

I was eager to brew my first batch: a SMaSH (Single Malt and Single Hop) pale ale. A super simple recipe to start with that would ideally lead to a nice tasting beer. For those who don't know, brewing beer require ALOT of both patience and (ugh) cleaning. Literally, I spent over half of my time brewing just cleaning all of the equipment again and again. Any sort of impurity, big or small, is enough to completely ruin a batch of beer. I already respected brewing as an art form, but I learned more about how difficult it really is to make delicious beer that adheres to a certain style. After a 6-hour brew day plus a few weeks of fermentation, this was the result:

Aesthetically, it's a nice looking SMaSH beer, right?! But the taste....let's just say the taste did not match the look. This was a very important lesson in detecting off-flavours in a beer. There was plenty of them.

I didn't get discouraged; I crafted a chocolate maple porter that tasted pretty solid as well as a decent red ale. Despite my improvements with small batches of beer, I really had a difficult time seeing myself get too serious about it. For one thing, I didn’t always have enough room to fit 10-12 bottles of beer in my fridge. Imagine I start making 5-gallon batches that can yield over 50 bottles of beer, where the hell would I put all that? And if I ruined the batch? That’s a hell of a lot of waste. So, I decided I’d stick with learning and not doing.

YouTube videos and books are great and all, but it's helpful to have a more hands-on learning experience. Enter Prud'homme - a Canadian beer education program with 4 levels of certifications, the top one being "Level 4 - Beer Sommelier."

Prud'homme Level 1 was a lot of fun, and while I knew the lion's share of introductory beer knowledge, the class gave me, even more, to think about. It was a group of 10 in my class (including myself), and each class we were given different styles of beer to try. Up until then, I never really kept any actual notes of the beers I've had, but in class, we would dissect a beer's taste, mouthfeel, finish, colour, clarity, and additional info.

The longer I was in the class, the more I realized that I preferred talking about a beer's characteristics over brewing the beer myself. I'd bought and read all these beer books, I've experimented with brewing, and now I've worked towards my Level 1 Beer Enthusiast certification; clearly, there's something here for me to dive into. I'd been out of school for over a year by that point, and here was this interest of mine that I'd spent time on.

I thought to myself that I should take this more seriously and try to shape this newfound passion of mine into the beginnings of a career.

The Pursuit of Hoppiness

That nugget of internal thinking actually helped influence my decision to apply for a postgraduate degree. Before this, I'd been glancing at different school programs in London, Waterloo, Toronto, etc., but it was mostly looking at programs that might complement my Criminology degree i.e. social work.

If I'd taken this strongly to learning about beer, how can I apply that interest and start a career? I did some thinking over a couple of weeks and ultimately, I decided that getting into marketing could be an excellent opportunity to pursue my interest. Not to mention that marketing is a very versatile degree that would open a lot of doors for me.

I liked the idea of being able to help out the little guy (small-scale craft/micro-brewers) over becoming a cog in the wheel of the bigger beer corporations. Ultimately, I found my way to the George Brown College Digital Media Marketing program web page. It checked off a lot of points on my program criteria list: 1-year in length, a good distance from London, learning all about digital tools used in the workplace, and a semester of work experience!

Getting Forked

Now that I'd made a decision to pursue marketing that could lead to a gig marketing beer, I figured I should find some REAL work experience of being in a brewery.

First and foremost was trying to get a job at Forked River Brewing Company. By then I had met and developed a solid rapport with a few of their staff, and eventually, it led to me landing a job there!

In mid-March, I was hired to help in different areas around the brewery. Sometimes the bosses needed me to work retail or within the brewery, it really depended on the demand of that week. My main goal was to get a very clear idea of how a brewery operates and about their approach to marketing.

On the retail side, I would talk with customers about the beer, sharing with them all of the traits of the beers. There were also other run-of-the-mill retail tasks like handling the cash register, stocking the shelves, or just making sure that people don't steal any beer.

During my time in the brewery itself, I would mostly help the brewmasters with canning (so. many. f***ing cans.) and filling up kegs, but I was also given a chance to help with the actual brewing. I'd go in twice a week early in the morning and work for about 5-6 hours. What I enjoyed the most was the very relaxed atmosphere compared to my time at Astor's. Both were fun, but for entirely different reasons.

I was even given a chance to work a couple of beer festivals around London and in Sarnia. Those days were the most fun because I could speak about the beers with confidence and encourage festival-goers to try our stuff. Overall, I had a great time over at Forked River and I am grateful to have had that opportunity.

George Brown Ale

Before I knew it, September came along and I was starting my program at George Brown. It felt weird to be back in school but I was excited to be taking this step towards a new career. In order to keep my mind fresh on everything beer, I got a job as a bartender at Biermarkt Don Mills; they've got 150+ beers including draught and bottles. Weekends were my game, closing bar Friday through Sunday (goooood times). They were kind enough to give me another beer book that doubled as an employee handbook:

This new program was looking to be a great fit. It's worth noting though that I had spent a lot of my internship search on breweries or beer distribution companies. I wasn't having much luck with that until the next best thing came along - My Wine Canada, a wine/spirits marketing and sales company right down the street from my school building.

Was it beer? Nope. But it's the next best thing.

And also, wine's pretty great! The role itself was "Digital Marketing Manager", very expensive-sounding, right?

What enticed me about it was this internship would give me as close a perspective of what it's like to handle the marketing for beer as I could get. I was setting up social media content calendars, editing and creating photo content, writing wine blogs, drafting weekly emails, and coming up with catchy and funny captions.

Seeing the Bigger Pitcher

The funny thing is, after spending four months with My Wine Canada, I wasn't as certain about wanting to find a marketing job related to beer. Oddly enough, I spent so much time obsessing about finding a job just like it, that I forgot to really sink my teeth into marketing. I was surprised to find that I really liked learning about marketing. Made me reflect (again) on what I was doing.

In my final semester, I've wondered about whether or not my priorities were as straight as they should have been. For most of this program, I've been so narrowly focused on finding a marketing job involving craft beer that I may have completely missed other great opportunities. I don't want that to happen going forward, so I'm taking that into account and keeping an open mind without losing sight of why I got into this program in the first place. Beer is a hobby that's going to stick around in my life and because of it, I have gotten involved in great things and introduced me to some amazing people, and I wouldn't trade that away.

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bohemian-napsodyy · 5 years

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Tag Game!

Rules: Answer the 21 questions, then tag 21 people you’d like to get to know better.

Thank you @dont-stop-memes-now for tagging me! This was fun :)

Nickname: Soph, but like everyone else calls me by my full name LOL

Zodiac: Virgo

Height: 5′1″

Last movie I saw: What Happened, Miss Simone?

Last thing I googled: brown sugar cookie recipes

Favourite musician: just 1???? what???? how is this fair???? excuse me????

Currently Queen, George Harrison, and Buffy Sainte-Marie

Song stuck in my head: I mean I’m listening to music as I write this, so I guess it’s what’s playing — Ke Sakihitin Awasis by Buffy Sainte-Marie <3

Other blogs: this is the only one!

Do I get asks?: I do sometimes! I haven’t been as active lately because of some family stuff so at the moment not many, but I do get asks! (and thanks folks! They always make me happy :)

Following: 139

Amount of sleep: about 8 hours

Lucky number: 11!

What I’m wearing right now: jeans, a sweater, a Giant Scarf, and these worn out hunter boots i’ve had for a million years

Dream job: something in the film industry! or a musician

Dream trip: I’d love to go to Marrakesh, or Egypt/Greece to check out the ruins.

Favourite food: This is so specific but tamarind chicken curry :)

Play any instruments: Piano, guitar, ukulele, and I used to play the flute!

Languages: English, French, I can understand some Spanish, and I’m currently learning Greek

Favourite songs: The Ballad of Frankie Crisp — George Harrison, I’m Going Slightly Mad — Queen, Los Ageless — St. Vincent, Blue Ridge Mountains — Fleet Foxes, I Went To The Store One Day — Father John Misty

Random fact: this is super weird but my teeth are a little oddly shaped because I was born premature and apparently preemie kiddos don’t have as much enamel on their teeth as people normally do — my teeth are sorta oval and round rather than being square like most people’s are?? plus the combo of an overbite and my teeth kinda look similar to Freddie’s… (i’ve always hated it so much they look so ugly but I’m trying to like them a little more now :’)

Describe yourself as aesthetic things: 1920s jazz music playing from another room, a warm cup of chai on a cold day, cinnamon, fairy lights and scented candles, long walks by yourself, roadtrips into the countryside/forest, looking through old childhood photos

now I don’t know 21 people all that well but I’ll tag a few -- if i don’t tag you but you think ‘hey this is cool!’, feel free to totally do this and just say i tagged you! :)

and also if you don’t want to do this, just ignore this and proceed on as per usual :)

@elliotmercury @theres-no-time-for-us @angrylizardjacket @drak-nashoba @stone-cold-crazy187 @discodeakky @myfairyqueenmercury

#tag game

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james-bucky-barnackle · 6 years

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Space Between Us (Part 2)

Synopsis: Set in an alternate universe, Y/N and Bucky have been best friends since forever, but sometimes being friends is just not enough. What happens when all of a sudden, your closeness suddenly gets separated by a space you two created yourselves because you were both afraid to face the music?

~ PART 1 ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2700

A/N: This is straight up a romcom, also I’m sorry for posting an update on this fic late - and suddenly writing other stuff lmao. This part also centers around y/n but it’s setting up something interesting for the next

2: You become him: 2 years apart

It’s been 2 years since I’ve got settled in and a month since Bucky last visited. He brought pizza and we spent the whole afternoon binge-watching Kitchen Nightmares. It sounds weird when I think about it, but I can’t explain how it happened. Everything was back to normal, well not normal-normal but enough to seem like it was better than the situation we were under months before. Here we were throwing crusts at the screen laughing like idiots whenever one of the restaurant owners would get slammed hard by Ramsay. We were like how we always were, maybe moving out turned out to be a good decision. Not seeing each other every day helped a lot with piecing our friendship back together at least for my side of things – I mean I was the only one trapped in a one-sided love affair. It felt healthy, Bucky came by once every other month and when he couldn’t he’d call me on the phone and tell me about his life before inquiring about mine. Most people would think I’m stupid for still hanging out with him, but even I couldn’t understand how I can’t simply drop him. The world may shake to the extreme and he’ll still be rooted on the ground ready to hold me, and I would be too. This is progress, you know? We’re not living in the same place anymore, we don’t see each other every day, and I’m slowly getting used to living on my own without him, with him just being on the sidelines. He’s just part of the bigger picture now, and not the whole thing. He probably made it easier for me, I knew how much he resisted asking me to let him stay over whenever he’d drop by or how he’d always try to keep our phone calls at a minimum. He gave me space for something he didn’t even know the reason to why I needed it.

The loft looks a lot like a home now, I’ve gotten way too much pillows for the bed and the couch that they’re pretty much scattered around the place, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was one at the bathroom, it’s disgusting but that’s an accurate representation of just how much pillows I’ve got. One of the two bedrooms I have, I’ve made into an office, with a huge cork board in front of my table. I like facing the wall and not the door, I get scared very easily so, it’s best I don’t face that direction. I’ve pasted photos of me and well – Bucky. I’ve got a couple of stupid awards pinned on the wall too, I should get frames for those. I look at the clock and it says eleven.

“Shit!”, I say scurrying as I pull my coat out and look for my keys before heading out and closing the door behind me. New day, new restaurant, new thing to write about. It’s a long story how I came to be a food critic but it’s something I enjoy and get by. Being a writer, I’ve had so many jobs where I wrote things I didn’t give a damn about, and when I started writing about cuisine (which is still a word I can’t take seriously), and everyone believing what I wrote on paper, I raised my eyebrows, gave it a once over, and said “this is it, this is what I’m doing”, well until I grow tired of it, but it’s been 6 years and I’m still at it. Talk about my being devoted. I get out of the building and a black range rover starts blasting its horn.

“Alright! Alright, I’m here. I didn’t hear my alarm go off okay?”, I say as I get on the passenger’s seat. I turn behind me and throw my bag, hearing clutter clash inside of it.

“If it weren’t for the free food I get whenever I join you in your escapades, I would’ve been long gone with the handsome valet guy from the hotel next door”, George grins at me. I peek at the window to see who he was talking about, the guy working at the valet, with brown hair and tanned skin, muscles obviously taken care of, seeing as how it was nearly popping out his uniform.

“Gosh, don’t you think it’s too early for some sexy role play? He’s clearly lost George, I wouldn’t trust him with my car”, raising my eyebrows, a chuckle escaping from my mouth. That guy was clearly not a valet. George hits the gas and we we’re on our way to Casa Manila, a Philippine restaurant in Manhattan.

I’ve gotten 10 hours of sleep, but I’m still tired. George is telling me a story about how his neighbor Matilda couldn’t smell his disdain for her, seeing as how she obviously had the hots for him. If I hadn’t met him during an office party with Ben from accounting and his mouth all over his neck, I’d have the hots for him too, I mean, his English accent would’ve sent my undies flying. “Well maybe if you start bringing boys to the apartment, she’d take a hint”. I say as I put my shades on and drift to sleep.

A few minutes later, we were at the reception of the restaurant, where the statuesque blonde host quickly ushered us to our seat when she found out who I was. The interior was a tropical paradise, traditional in a sense, but a huge contrast from the concrete jungle outside. Light beige covered the walls, weaved chairs were present, never thought they would look like a million bucks but I guess they made it work. I always thought they’d look cheap and itchy but I was just in awe of how the light shines through the huge windows onto the tables and chairs looking bright and welcoming.

“Of course, they’d give you the corner to the window”, George says as he follows to where the host pulls out a chair for me and a young lad introducing himself as our server for tonight. I grin and shake my head of course, they did. They always placed me in a place where I’d feel important but really because it’s in perfect view from the kitchen door windows to see my reaction. I thanked the host and take my time to check the menu and in minutes have chosen today’s target. Eyeing George, he’s found his too. And the waiter excuses himself to fetch our order.

The kitchen was buzzing more than ever, the waiter wrote “VIP” on the ticket in blue ink. George has been used to watching me smile when I make people nervous, or uncomfortable. It was one of my many talents. Let me tell you about George. He’s too tall for his own good, has brown wavy hair, the I-don’t-care-but-I-really-do-care type of hair, the cool guy hair, great hair. He has brown eyes, gentle eyes that would make anyone melt, he’s lean and has a long face like a Disney prince would, with dimples of course, but has got short patience. And an hour after we met at the office party I mentioned earlier, he put his arm on my shoulder loudly stating I was his ride and that we were going home with absolute conviction, after finding out Ben from accounting was married and had two kids. And I ended up driving him to the convenience store he led me to only to wait for him as he came out with a box of beer and some chips and we went straight to his place, ran up to the rooftop and stayed up all night talking about our love an hatred for men. He was home away from home. I knew then we’d be inseparable. As the appetizers we ordered came in, I felt eyes on us, and it’s not from the staff.

“I’m surprised you haven’t melted yet, that man has been glancing this way before we even looked at the menu”, He smirks placing his hand under his chin raising his right brow.

I steal a look and he’s gorgeous, he looks like he was cut straight out a Calvin Klein ad. He’s wearing an off-white suit, looking like a Ken doll with his blue eyes, blond hair and a jaw that could cut seamlessly through butter.

“Well?”, George interrupts my quick inspection. I didn’t even realize I was biting my lip, I roll my eyes at George and give him a devilish grin.

“Maybe for dessert”

“Very brave, Y/N.”

I shrug my shoulders and he laughs as I put my hand on the back of my neck to turn my head towards his direction, and when he realizes I’ve caught him looking, he shyly smiles and looks away at the instant.

“I’m going to write it as fresh, creative and confident,” the waiter hides the huge grin on his face with the tray he’s held up. He puts his hand behind his back and signals a thumb up, which makes the onlookers in the kitchen run wild. I wipe any food residue from my lips as George drinks his champagne. Today’s work was over, we had the rest of the day to ourselves, easy. Just as I put the napkin down, my phone buzzes, I look to see who it is, and its him. My eyes grow wide at George, a smile on my lips, as he shook his head at me. It’s a text message, he wants me to call when I’ve got the time he wants to tell me something important and that he’s excited about it, oh I have the time.

“Who’s got you smiling like you’re on cloud nine?” George inquires.

“It’s Bucky! My Bucky. Told me he’s in town and has something important to tell me, looks like he’s pretty excited about it” I suddenly feel stupid calling him mine.

“Remind me who?” I was ready for a little story time.

“Bucky, my best friend. We met during college and were inseparable ever since. We even lived together for three years,” I was trying to make George remember, surely I’ve told him about Bucky, right? He was still skeptical “You know, we dated once, but that really never went good for the both of us, figured we’d just be better off as friends.” I gaze into the distance and remember a funny conversation me and Bucky had when we were college students on spring break.

“We had this crazy pact when we were in college, that when we’re 28 and still unmarried, we’d just marry each other. It’s the craziest thing but we were young and stupid.” It was one of the things that you could forget but just couldn’t, it was tucked away in a happy little box of memories. George’s eyebrows perk up. I squint my eyes, what is he thinking?

“Aren’t you turning 28 in 3 weeks?” shoot, that’s true. I lift my eyebrows up to inquire where he’s getting at. “He’s in town, he’s got something important to tell you, he’s excited about it?” I wave him off, it’s probably something else, right? It’s gotta be, but I mentally kick myself for even considering the idea. It’s impossible.

“If you don’t want anything to do with him, there’s still someone who looks interested." George quickly perks his eyebrows up at me motioning to a direction where I looked to see the gorgeous blond onlooker from earlier walking to our table. I shrug back at him as he chuckles.

When I finally get back to my apartment, I pace back and forth not knowing if it was time to call Bucky back. Am I ready to call him? We’ve had conversations on the phone before, why am I feeling nervous? He’s even been here last month, so why even feel conscious about a phone call? He could be calling about a raise, or a trip… or an early birthday greeting? Fucking George, I hate him for putting the idea into my head. Why did I even let it slip out? I found myself dialing his number, biting my nail as I contemplate if I should hit call. Oh! fuck it, what do I have to lose? I’ve already lost him, I’m too old for this. He picks it up on the first ring, my heart stops, I’m smiling like an idiot.

“Hey, Y/N! I’ve missed you,” his voice made my knees buckle.

“I’m good, what about you? What’s the thing you want to tell me so badly?”

“That’s great!” I’m sitting on my bed, my heart is beating fast, what could it be? “I’ve met someone, Y/N. She’s great she’s amazing, I’m thinking of asking her to marry me, and I can’t do this without you.” I fall, a thud on the floor deafening, I almost throw my phone.

“You okay?” he asks. No, I’m not.

“Y-yeah!” I say as I get up, touching the back of my head that has hit the floor, luckily there was a pillow to catch my fall. “Bucky, don’t you think that’s way too fast? How do I not know about this? Why haven’t you told me anything about you meeting anybody?” I was being honest, there was no time to be pretending to be happy when I was clearly dumbfounded.

“I wanted to be sure before I told my best gal, I didn’t want her to be like the others,” like the others? What’s that supposed to mean? I was walking around my room hugging a throw pillow tight.

“W-when are y-you gonna propose?”

“Two weeks from now, I’ve gotta get this right, doll. I know you can help me.” There he goes calling me that, my heart is sinking, this is exactly like a chick flick.

“You’ve been with her for like what? A week?”

He laughs. “Two months, are you not even happy for me?” you bet I’m not, I’m not happy for myself either. Something resurfaces in my head, I lied, I clearly haven’t moved on yet.

“I am! I just, don’t you think it’s too soon? Two months Bucky? Gosh that’s a little fast” I laugh nervously.

“Hey,” he pauses, “I need you. You’re my best friend, why do I feel like you’re turning on me?” I sigh, I’m gonna have to act cool this hot minute.

“Bucky I’m happy for you, I was just surprised,” quickly changing the mood before it turned sour. “My best guy wants to get married, who wouldn’t be ecstatic about that?” I know I’m not. I put on my best cheery voice, maybe a little too much.

“Yes! I knew I can count on you!” joy clear in his voice, “I can’t wait for you to meet her, we’ve reserved a table at that Italian restaurant you love. I’ll see you at 7!” And the line goes static. His excitement won over my tenseness. I couldn’t believe what just happened. Is this a joke?

“This is insane George! Two months? How could anyone want to marry someone they’ve been with for that amount of time? Marriage is commitment George, that’s some serious stuff.”

“Bucky’s been at my tail for years! Years! And now this girl comes along and he suddenly wants to marry her?" It was true, even when we’ve decided to end things romantically between us, Bucky would still flirt and act like everything was normal, we slept on the same bed for Pete’s sake! I suddenly wished I didn’t get over my head and moved out, it could’ve been me he’s proposing to. My hair was all over the place, but I didn’t mind, I liked it naturally looking like I was straight out of bed, I put makeup on meticulously, not knowing who my opponent was. I was blabbering away, lighting a cigar as George continued driving. I was speaking way to fast, paranoia clear in my voice.

“I’m going to get him back, George, I’ve got to. I’ll do whatever it takes to get him back.” I say as I let a puff of smoke out my lips.

George laughs, he likes me when I panic, “Oh I bet you will.”

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HMU IF U WANNA GET TAGGED or not lol

Check out my other stuff too? M A S T E R L I S T

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #chris evans #steve rogers #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #i write fics #lol #marvel angst #marvel imagines #marvel #marvel imagine #alternate univers #sebastian stan imagine #my best friends wedding

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