#also i was in one of those really strict households so yeah. no breathing outside for me

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

Penny For Your Thoughts (II)

Pairing: Young!Sirius Black x Reader

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N has lived in the Potter household since she was eight years old. Even amongst the Potters, whom she knew loved her, she has never felt truly accepted, never felt like anything other than a burden. Until she went to Hogwarts. For the first time she had friends who weren’t forced to act as such, she had a family who loved her by choice. There, she met Sirius, the first and only person to ever truly understand what she was going through, to listen to her and not judge.

Chapter Warnings: Ummm not sure - maybe swearing?

A/N: And here’s part two! I hope you enjoy - here you’ll meet some of my OCs created for the series, characters who I genuinely love a lot so I hope you also like them! Please let me know what you think - especially if you’re on the taglist, hearing your comments always inspires me to keep on writing, so please do let me know. If you wish to be added to the taglist send me an ASK, replies to the parts asking to be added onto it won’t be responded to

“I told you - I have the worst sense of direction!” Y/N groaned as herself and Beatrice managed to take another wrong turn on their way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

“I thought you were exaggerating or - or being modest!” Beatrice laughed, nudging into her gently with her elbow. Y/N pulled a face at her.

“That would be rather Hufflepuff of me, wouldn’t it?” 

“Hey - this looks familiar!” Beatrice exclaimed as they turned another corner and Y/N wrinkled her nose, taking in the painting of a fruit bowl that they had stumbled across.

“B?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re back by the kitchens - we’re back where we started.”

“What’re you two doing here?” They turned to face back down the hallway where the Hufflepuff common room was located hidden behind a pile of barrels. Liane, Jessica and Eric were approaching them, grinning at their obviously lost friends.

“Waiting for you?” Y/N suggested.

“Forget the way to the Great Hall?” Eric teased.

“Maybe a little,” Y/N agreed.  The group continued on, led by Jessica who regularly looked over her shoulder as though to check that her newfound friends were still following her, worried that they may disappear.

“It’s a good thing we left so early this morning,” Beatrice commented to Y/N. “Otherwise we might not have made it to breakfast in time.”

“Why did you leave so early?” Liane asked as they entered into the Great Hall, which was already at least half full with students eating their breakfast.

“I was aware I’d get lost - B just came along for the ride.” Beatrice nodded solemnly at those words as they found themselves seats at the Hufflepuff table.

“I was under the impression that she knew what she was doing,” she admitted. “And I’m ashamed to admit that.”

“You’ve known me less than twenty four hours!” Y/N protested. “For all you know, I could have planned all of that.”

“Why would you have planned getting lost on the way to breakfast?” Beatrice asked in bewilderment.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve known you for less than twenty four hours and you expect me to spill my master plan to you,” Y/N scoffed.

Eric was watching the two girls interact, his brow scrunched together in confusion but a twinkle in his eyes that showed he was more amused than anything else.

“You’re both rather strange.” 

“Well that’s just rude,” Beatrice huffed, pouring herself some juice as Y/N picked up the water pitcher. 

“Do you think the professors will be nice?” Jessica blurted out the words, cutting off their conversation. Two spots of pink appeared on her cheeks when all four of them turned to face her. “Sorry,” she muttered, looking down at her plate. 

“You remember what Mum said, Jess,” Eric said calmly. “When she was here she loved all the teachers - she was even taught by McGonagall and Flitwick.”

“Who are they?” Beatrice frowned and quickly added: “my parents didn’t much like talking about Hogwarts,” Y/N thought she saw a hint of embarrassment in her expression and she noted how Beatrice refused to meet any of their eyes.

“McGonagall teaches transfiguration and Flitwick teaches charms,” Liane explained, buttering a piece of toast. “My parents told me that McGonagall’s a complete hard-ass though,” she added and Y/N saw Jessica’s eyes widen.

“Really?” Beatrice asked, staring at Liane.

“Yeah - really strict, apparently,” she confirmed. “Especially if you’re not in her house.”

“That’s not true,” Eric sighed, shaking his head. “The teachers aren’t allowed to favour those in their house,” he insisted but Liane shook her head defiantly.

“None of the teachers stick to that! All the heads of house are lenient towards their own students!”

“So d’ya think Sprout’ll give us a load of house points for like… breathing?” Beatrice asked and she shared an amused look with Y/N.

“Alright - laugh all you want now, we’ll see who’s right,” Liane scoffed, but there was traces of laughter in her voice.

“What do you think we’ll have today?” Jessica asked in her quiet, soft voice, her nerves about their first day seeming to override the shyness that she had shown the previous evening.

“I hope we have Potions,” Liane said eagerly, her voice completely changing from her previous tone of disbelief.

“Do you think you’ll be good at it?” Beatrice asked interestedly.

“My Dad’s fantastic at brewing potions - Mum says that he’s been waiting for me to go to Hogwarts so that he can help me learn how to properly do them myself,” Liane explained through a bite of toast.

“I heard that it was a really hard subject,” Jessica worried.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Y/N mustered up as much of a reassuring smile as she could manage. “What’re you looking forward to?” Jessica didn’t reply immediately, clearly thinking carefully about the question.

 “I think I’ll enjoy herbology,” she decided, nodding her head to confirm her thought. Beside Y/N, Beatrice completely lit up in delight.

“Really? I think I will too - I used to love gardening when I was at home!” She enthused. Jessica brightened at that and it wasn’t long before the two of them were talking excitedly about what they were most looking forward to studying - both of them, apparently, having already read through the text book that had been assigned for their year.

“What about you, then?”

“Care of Magical Creatures,” Y/N’s response to Liane’s question was immediate, the words out her mouth before she had a chance even to think about them.

“But… we can’t study that yet,” Liane pointed out, raising her eyebrows and Y/N let out a sad sigh, nodding her head.

“I know - sucks, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t think I’ll be taking it,” Liane admitted with a slight shiver. Y/N frowned at her, confused, and her new friend offered her an apologetic smile. “I’m not… great with animals. They make me nervous.”

“All animals?” Y/N questioned in disbelief.

“Pretty much - they don’t trust me, I think. And so I also don’t trust them. We’ve got a mutual understanding going on.”

“It’s okay, I’ll change that,” Y/N reassured her with a mischievous smile. “I’ve been told I can be rather persuasive.”

“Why does that sound like a threat?” Y/N ignored Liane’s sigh and looked over at Eric. 

“What about you?” She inquired, but Eric wasn’t listening and was instead looking at his sister and Beatrice with what was almost an expression of concern that Y/N didn’t quite understand. “Eric?”

“What, sorry?” He was snapped back into the present, trying his best to feign attentiveness as he returned to the conversation.

“What subject are you excited for?” Liane repeated, rolling her eyes a little and running a hand through her scarlet hair, pushing it away from her face.

“Well… everyone’s excited for Defence Against the Dark Arts, right?” He pointed out with a ‘duh’ expression. 

Their conversation speculating over their new classes carried them to the end of breakfast, the food disappearing from the platters in front of them, the heads of house descending from the professors table at the front of the hall all carrying piles of parchment. 

Professor Sprout was a squat woman with greying curly hair with a tattered wizards hat perched on top. Her fingernails had dirt underneath and the skin of her hands looked rough to Y/N’s eyes, presumably from the many hours she spent outside in the Greenhouses. Her eyes, despite being tired-looking, were warm and welcoming, smile lines beginning to be etched into the skin around them.

She practically beamed at Y/N and her fellow first years.

“I didn’t get to say it last night - but welcome all of you to Hufflepuff!” Her words caused quiet cheers and giggles from the first years surrounding them. A freckled boy that Y/N didn’t know the name off looked as though he was going to pass out from joy. “For anyone who doesn’t know - I’m Professor Sprout. Your head of House and also your Herbology teacher!” Jessica and Beatrice exchanged yet another excited look.

Sprout handed out the parchment, one to each student, asking each for their name, welcoming them to her house.

“And your name?”

“I’m Y/N, Professor, Y/N Y/L/N,” she smiled. Professor Sprout’s face fell just a little and she nodded, her warm eyes softening even further.

“It’s lovely to meet you - welcome to Hufflepuff,” she said, her voice more gentle than it had been when talking to the other first years.Y/N took her timetable from her, staring down at the little squares labelled with her lessons, not wanting to meet the inquiring gazes of her new friends who Y/N could tell had picked up on Sprout’s change in mood.

“Charms first,” Y/N muttered, reading the writing. “And then Herbology,” she looked at Beatrice who was watching her carefully. “Pretty ideal for you, huh?”

Beatrice cracked a smile and nodded her head.

“Alright - we should probably get going. With Y/N’s complete lack of any sense of direction at all it’ll take us a good fifteen to thirty minutes to find the classroom,” Beatrice declared, standing up and stretching her arms out, smirking at her new friend who rolled her eyes, standing up as well.

“Well Jess has a thestral’s sense of direction so I’m sure we can use her as a guide.”

“I don’t…. understand?” Jessica asked, looking at Y/N with an apprehensive expression.

“It was a compliment,” Y/N assured her as their little group of friends made their way out of the Great Hall, clutching at their timetables. Y/N’s heart was racing with nerves, though she didn’t want to admit it aloud.

They walked together to charms, speculating excitedly about what they thought the lesson could hold for them, what Flitwick had in store to teach them. 

Unsurprisingly, considering how early they had left from breakfast, they were the first ones to find the classroom and lined up outside it, Liane talking animatedly about the different charms that she had already read up about. 

“Who do we have it with, anyway?” Eric asked, leaning against the wall.

Y/N glanced down at the timetable still clutched in her hands and her heart leapt in her chest.

“The Gryffindors,” she relayed, beaming. 

“Why’re you so pleased?” Beatrice asked.

“I already know some of them!”

“You already have other friends?” Beatrice gasped in feigned offence.

“What can I say? People love me.”

“Hey Y/N,” Lily tapped Y/N on her shoulder, who whirled around to grin at her.

“Hi! How are you?” 

“Good thanks,” Lily grinned. “How was your first night?”

“It was fun! Oh!” Y/N turned back to her group of Hufflepuff friends. “This is Beatrice, Eric, Jessica and Liane.” They waved at the Gryffindor girl, whose smile seemed to become shyer with the introduction. “And this is Lily - we met on the platform yesterday and sat together on the train.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lily said, taking Beatrice’s hand.

“Who’re your friends?” Y/N whispered to Lily, looking over at the three other girls dressed in red-hooded robes that had arrived with Lily.

Lily giggled at Y/N’s lowered tone.

“That’s Marlene, next to her is Alice and then that’s Dorcas.” Lily introduced quietly, pointing at each girl in turn. Y/N nodded her head but didn’t get a chance to respond further as James’ booming voice rang out from down the corridor, where he had just turned the corner to the hallway where the charms class was located.

“Y/N! Hufflepuff! Mum called it! Have you written to tell her yet?”

Y/N let out a heavy sigh, removing herself from the company of her friends and walked towards James, who was accompanied by a group of boys - one of whom she recognised from the platform to be Frank Longbottom.

“I haven’t, no - did you write to let them know you’re in Gryffindor?” 

“As if they need the confirmation,” James scoffed. 

“Wait - what do you mean your mum called it?” Y/N’s brows furrowed together as she registered what else James had said. 

“Ages ago! When you first-” James caught himself, “when you first started to ask about the House system. She told me and Dad that she reckoned you’d be a Hufflepuff.”

“She never told me that,” Y/N frowned and James shrugged.

“Well she told me,” Y/N gave him a withering look.

“I figured,” she met Sirius’ eyes over James’ shoulder and he gave her the same cocky smirk that Y/N was beginning to realise was a near-permanent fixture for him.

“Hey,” he nodded at her.

“Gryffindor, huh?” Sirius’ smirk seemed to fall briefly, a slightly worried look on his face as he responded, though he tried to cover it with a poor substitute of his previous confidence.

“My Mum’ll be so proud.” James snickered, glancing at his new friend.

“These are our other dormmates, by the way,” James said, gesturing to the other three boys who had joined in with the conversation held by the other Hufflepuff boys who had turned up shortly after the Gryffindors. “That’s Remus, Peter and - you remember Dad talking about Frank?”

“Your dad was talking about me?” Frank asked, breaking out of the conversation to shoot a confused look at James and Y/N.

“Mine was telling us that he went to school with your Mum,” James explained cheerfully, no hint of the embarrassment that Y/N was feeling having been caught in such an odd conversation. 

“Right…” there was still an air of unsureness in Frank’s voice.

“How was your first night anyway? You doing okay?” James lowered his voice a little, clearly knowing that Y/N wouldn’t want for their classmates to overhear him checking up on her. “You sleep okay?” He added knowingly.

“It was fine, James - I’m fine, I promise,” Y/N said with a smile and gave a half shrug, glancing back to her new friends. “They all seem really lovely.”

“I’m glad,” James smiled, nudging her shoulder with his. “And last night - you didn't…?”

“No - not last night,” she confirmed. Y/N suddenly looked to Sirius, who she realised had been standing with them as they spoke, looking interested. “I snore,” was the first thing she could think of as an explanation. 

Sirius started to laugh and Y/N’s embarrassment washed over her, not that she had time to dwell on it when Beatrice grabbed her arm and tugged her towards the classroom that Professor Flitwick had just entered into.

“You’ll sit with me, right?”

They found a table together in the middle of the classroom, Y/N sliding into the chair nearest the window, Liane and Jessica sitting in the row in front of them, Eric joining a fellow Hufflepuff boy at the table beside them. It was no surprise at all to Y/N that James and his new friends took seats right at the back of the classroom.

“Who was that?” Beatrice whispered to her as Flitwick started his lecture.

“I’m trying to listen,” Y/N returned and Beatrice fell silent.

“No you’re not - you’re doodling!” Beatrice accused, her voice still too low to be heard by anyone other than Y/N.

“Relevant doodling?” Y/N offered and Beatrice gave her a withering look, not bothering to reply further than that. 

“Now it’s over to you to have a go! Remember - swish and flick!” Flitwick announced, clapping his hands cheerfully.

“Any chance you were actually paying proper attention?” Y/N asked Beatrice as Flitwick waved his wand and feathers flew across the room to land one in front of each student.

“The levitating charm,” Lily whispered from the table behind them. Y/N looked over her shoulder at the Gryffindor girl who was smiling. “You know - Wingardium Leviosa.”

“Thanks,” Y/N whispered in return. 

“But who is he?” Beatrice repeated again, the classroom filling with noise as the eager First Years began to cast their first spells. Y/N got her own out of her robes and shrugged nonchalantly.

“Just a guy I grew up with - our parents were friends.”

#sirius black #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x hufflepuff!reader #sirius black series #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #Penny For Your Thoughts #PFYT

[seriouslyhooked]

When We Collide (Part 1)

Emma Swan has always known one thing: trust no one but yourself. Unfortunately she forgot her one rule and now she’s paying for it. One bad decision led her to the monstrous ‘Crocodile’ a mobster in New York who goes by the name Gold. Hope seems lost until she meets another person in this underworld, Killian Jones. Despite the place they find each other, a true love blossoms, and they manage to get away. But what will happen when Emma discovers who Killian really is? Will love prevail? Um, yeah, I’m writing this, so duh – it’s all love all the time. Fic features motorcycles, hot guys in leather cuts, and a bit of action/drama. Will end happily, and despite the first chapter, will be light on angst. Available on FanFiction Here and AO3 Here. 

A/N: Hey everyone! Surprise! There’s a new fic I’m here to share with you all, and full disclosure, it is very different than my usual fare. You will be able to tell that from this first chapter, and for some of my readers it might be a bit too much. Not to worry, this is just a prologue of sorts, and next chapter will start in a brighter, more hopeful place (we will flash forward in time). Be advised that there is no graphic violence or anything like that, but the premise of this story involves Emma owing a debt to Gold (a mob boss in New York) that she has to pay. She’s working it off in a bar, but she’s not exactly free to go as she does. That’s a lot angstier of a situation than I ever like to deal with, so it’s temporary, but want to give you all the heads up just so you know. I suspect a lot of you will read this and think it’s not that bad, but I figure it’s best to give everyone the heads up. Anyway, I promise that this story will eventually be just as fluffy and feels-filled as my other stories, and I hope you’ll give it a try, even if you decide to skip this chapter and just join for the next. Also, just to shout out the excellent song that partially inspired this fic, you should all listen to the song ‘Collide’ by Tiana Major9 & EARTHGANG. It’s a really beautiful song, and I hope the fic can embody the feel of it as it continues to unfold. Thanks so much for reading, and hope you enjoy!

Maybe I’ll get lucky and everyone will forget I’m back here, Emma thought to herself as she counted up the bottles on the shelves, taking a quick inventory of what they had for the bar out front.

She also needed to keep this count to protect herself. She’d learned a few days into this gig that Gold’s men loved their liquor and they had a tendency to come back here and take it. Instead of letting them do that and then allowing her and her coworkers to take the blame, Emma came up with a system including locks on the door and an electronic documentation of what they had and when. There was no wifi hook up, obviously, as Gold made sure to keep a strict lock on their surroundings, but it did provide an timestamped trail that proved she was taking nothing from this place. Every night she cashed in her tips with Sydney, the bar’s ‘owner’ but really just Gold’s front man and lap dog, and she watched as the debt she owed grew smaller and smaller. In six more months she’d be free of this and she was doing anything and everything she could to shorten that time.

Thinking about her debt made a flare of anger rise in her belly. Truth was this wasn’t even her fucking debt, it was Lily’s, a woman Emma believed to be her friend. They’d met when they were still kids, both of them runaways, and though time had driven them apart, they reconnected when they realized they were both living in New York. Emma had managed to get steady, honest work and was doing her best to claw up from the nothing that she’d started with in life, and she thought Lily was doing the same. Boy had she been wrong.

It turned out that Lily didn’t pay her part of the rent with anything resembling clean money. She’d worked for Gold, and then she fucked him over and ran, leaving Emma none the wiser and thrust into the fallout of a crime she’d never committed. When that moment came Gold gave her two choices: pay off the money he was owed, or suffer a bit before accepting and still paying, but in a less desirable way. Emma chose the former, and she gave everything she had to the man, but it still wasn’t enough. Lily had managed to get off with almost 50k, and while that was chump change to Gold, it was more than double Emma’s savings. Still she’d promised to get him the money, to give him every paycheck she could, save for her rent and food expenses. But it didn’t satisfy the Crocodile, as people were prone to calling him. Gold decreed that she’d work in the bar and that was that. She’d also been ‘moved’ to one of the apartments above the place. But none of her actual belongings ever arrived. All she had was work uniforms and bare essentials. There was no TV, no phone, no nothing. She’d been graced with tattered linens, the most basic of household essentials (as in one plate, one fork, one of everything) and a bunch of dusty books on ranging topics left from tenants past. She also had a chip on her shoulder, created from the unjustness of this whole situation, pushing her to get out of this shit as fast as she could.

“Yo, Emma, you coming back at some point?” A voice asked from the doorway. It was one of her coworkers, a guy named August who she’d never had much to do with. He seemed pretty okay, but then again, he was here working for Gold and he didn’t even seem to have the whole debt-pay off factor going. That was a huge red flag, and one of the reasons Emma never trusted him much. “We got customers.”

“One minute,” she said, and waited until the door swung closed again. Knowing she was along she closed her eyes and took some steadying breaths, gearing up for what would no doubt be a terrible night.

It’s temporary. You just have a few more months. You’ve survived worse. You can survive this too.

When she felt strong enough to put her mask in place and face the raucous debauchery that awaited her outside, Emma squared her shoulders and headed out. Her eyes had to adjust quickly to the dimness of the lighting, and she took in the stronger scents of stale cigar smoke and piss that always clung to this place. No matter how much they cleaned after hours, there was no getting rid of the odor or the grime. This bar was better off burned to the ground and completely built over, but to the men who frequented it, this place was the closest thing they had to home. The Lair, as the neon sign outside advertised, was a total dive, and it was filled to the brim with low-rate mobsters and criminals.

This was one of those places that Hollywood constantly tried ripping off to no avail. In some ways it was completely corny and predictable, and so blatant in its criminal ties that it felt like a joke that everyone was in on. But the embellishments and adornments here were over the top and gaudy, too tacky even for a Las Vegas casino. Gold’s namesake was splashed everywhere, from the countertops to the barstools to the curtains on the back walls. When the finishing got gross and dirty, they’d be replaced, but the style was dated and straight out of the 70s. It was a mobster hideaway with no pretensions, and Emma always thought to herself that the cops should be busting in every night. This was an obvious den of misconduct, but no cops ever came. The reality was that Gold had half the police force in his pocket, and the other half were too scared to cross him for fear of what he’d bring down on them. Gold might be ridiculous and over the top, but he was powerful, and more than that he was smart, so smart Emma knew better than to ever try to run and think she could get away with it.

“Well, well, well. Ain’t you lookin good tonight, sweetheart?”

Emma fought the instinct to roll her eyes at the slurred and shouted words that crossed the bar top over to where she was standing. Two months into her captivity here, and Emma knew better than to let her baser instincts win out. Despite how gross this man was, and how underwhelming he was on any metric of attractiveness, Emma couldn’t cave to her want to blow him off. Doing so was a risk, and if she had any chance of surviving this hell hole, she could not afford to take those.

“What can I get you, Mr. Black?” Emma asked, ignoring the stench of sweat and booze that mingled with the man’s cheap aftershave. She looked at him for only a second before looking down again, knowing her best bet was to try and blend into the background and let these men set their sights on the women who actually wanted to be here.

“I’ll take a night in bed with you, darlin’.” Emma chocked down a gag but flashed an insincere smile as she shook her head.

“You know the rules, Black. I work for Gold in a strictly drink-serving capacity.”

“Damn waste if you ask me, putting talent like you up in the bar.”

A waste? Emma considered it a small miracle. Since the day that Gold’s men had swarmed her apartment with guns drawn, looking for Lily, Emma had been completely at the will of a monster. She knew from the second they apprehended her and brought her back here that she could be destined for anything. People talked about Gold in this city and there was no crime he was too good to partake in. He had brothels all over the place and a stake in the skin trade. He ran drugs and guns, made people disappear and black mailed anyone he could. He had no moral restrictions, and no love greater than the one had for money and control. He owned this city in almost every single way, and if he chose to, he could make her life even worse than it was now. So much worse. It sent a shiver up her spine to even contemplate some of the things she’d heard whispered about. But Gold, as dark and twisted as he was, did have a code, and he’d briefly explained it to her the night she was brought in.

“I’m a man who collects his debts, Miss Swan, but I am also a man who sees a whole story. You had nothing to do with Lily’s betrayal, I know this. You’re collateral damage, a source of collection through no fault of your own. The debt must be payed, but since you yourself have never wronged me, I’ll be good to you. You even think of crossing me, however, and you’ll live to regret it.”

Emma knew the truth when she heard it. Her gut was never wrong. Even with Lily, the problem wasn’t that Emma had missed her true colors, she’d just chosen to ignore the telltale signs of a problem person because she really had no other friends. She hoped that Lily may come around, that she’d get better and really try and make a go of things in an above board way, but with Gold there was no doubt as to the veracity of his threat. If he felt Emma was disloyal, he’d punish her, and if at the end of this there was any doubt that she’d turn on him, she would never be free. She had to be picture perfect in her actions. A pretty, polite prisoner who served their time and then kept silent. She was ready to do that, she just had to stick to her plan and keep her head up in the meantime.

As she made Mr. Black’s drink and got caught into the flow of the bar, serving men their beer and liquor until they all got drunk as hell, Emma counted down the seconds until the night would be over. She gathered her measly tips, and kept them guarded close, and she knew that tonight would be like every other. She was trapped here, in this darkness, destined to be unhappy but determined to survive. When she was free of this she’d go as far away from Gold’s hold as she could. She’d find a cabin somewhere, live a quiet kind of life, and she’d never put herself in this kind of position again. Her lesson had been learned – she could trust no one but herself, and though that was a totally lonely sensation, she had to try and accept it or risk hurting herself all over again down the line.

Suddenly, in the midst of the normal night’s activities, the front door blew open and Emma felt a tingling of anticipation when it did. She hadn’t looked in that direction all night long, never liking the people who would dare to enter here, but her instincts were screaming at her to turn around and look. She had no idea why, but when she obeyed the internal command, she was shocked into stillness, caught up in the sight of the man who’d just walked in.

Tall, dark, and fiercely handsome, this man was sin personified and so much better looking than the other thugs that came here every night. He didn’t look out of place though, aside from his attractiveness. The clothes he wore were made of leather and spoke to some dangerous intent. He made no show to hide the side arms he was carrying, one on his hip and one strapped across his chest, and the scowl on his face made him seem hard and unapproachable. For a moment, Emma had the chance to take him in, and despite the fierceness of his expression, she felt a flutter low in her stomach.

His chiseled jaw with the well-trimmed beard he had was hot, as was the symmetry of his features and the way his broad body clenched and she could see his muscles. But if someone were to ask her what stood out most about this mystery man it was his eyes. They were blue, like the ocean in places she’d only read about. They weren’t icy or cold, but warm somehow and so thoroughly enticing. She felt herself lost in them, and then he looked at her, their gazes connecting, and that sensation grew so much stronger. She felt a kind of pang echo through her ribcage the moment he took her in, and she watched as the hardness of his face shifted ever so slightly. It was a small tell, most people wouldn’t have noticed, but Emma did, and she knew that he felt this too. Whatever the hell this was – the man who’d just arrived was just as captive to it as she was.

“Ah, Captain, you’re here!” One of the regulars said, laughing and flailing about as only truly drunk men did. “Didn’t think we’d ever get you to The Lair. Thought you was too good for us.”

The man they called ‘Captain’ tore his gaze from Emma and moved over to the man who’d called him over. His stride was measured and almost graceful, and Emma couldn’t help but follow him with her eyes. This was so unlike her. She made it her business not to watch anyone too closely. The less she knew about what everyone was really up to the better, but she was intrigued by this newcomer in a way she’d never been before.

“Boss wants to see you, Alvin. Something about the McManus shipment.” Alvin blanched at the comment and swallowed harshly and Emma knew for certain that this man was in trouble with Gold. She didn’t have much sympathy for Alvin, and in fact most of her intention was focused on this stranger, who had the touch of an accent she couldn’t quite place. His voice was silky and low, tantalizing in a way, and she wanted to hear more of it. “Perhaps you’d like a drink for the road. Not sure when you’ll have the chance for another.”

“Bring them this,” Sydney said, materializing from nowhere next to Emma. She jumped at the unexpected intrusion into her thoughts, and looked at the two glasses.

“Is this rum?” she asked dumbly and Sydney nodded.

“The best. Captain likes the good stuff.”

“Right,” Emma said, moving over with the tray to the table where both men sat. When she got there, she was struck speechless again. Being so close to this man only added to the allure. He was even more interesting close up, and she lost her head a little bit at the sight of him, but tried to pull herself together as best he could. “Your drinks, gentlemen.”

Alvin took the drink and downed in, but the stranger took his time, glancing at her over the glass and nodding. He didn’t smile, but his eyes conveyed a warmth he’d shared with no one else here. “Thank you, love.”

Knowing she couldn’t linger, Emma moved back to the other tables, continuing her work, but when she noticed Alvin and the mysterious man standing up to go a few minutes later, she felt a dash of disappointment. He was leaving, and she didn’t even know his name.

Okay, seriously? What the hell Emma? He’s one of them. He works for Gold. You don’t care about him. You can’t care.

The voice in her head scolded her for her fanciful thinking and this completely mistimed attraction. It was so foolish to think of him as anything but a threat, but her heart lurched at the thought. She was overcome with these weird feelings. Being so drawn to a man so quickly had never been her style. Certainly not now when she was in survival mode. But as she turned around to fill a tray with empty glasses on one of the far tables, she felt a presence behind her. She whipped around too quickly, only to run into him, and if it hadn’t been for his steadying hands, one on her arm and the other on her tray, the glasses would have shattered.

“You all right, love?”

“Um,” she licked her lips as her eyes darted up to and she nodded once. “Yes. I’m fine.”

“Good. Just wanted to give you this,” he said, handing her a tip. It was generous. Like a couple hundred-dollar bills generous. It was way more than their drinks had been and way way more than she could ever accept. It felt wrong, but there was a part of her that was desperate to keep it. This would put her that much closer to freedom. It was almost a week she wouldn’t have to work. Still she pushed it back at him.

“I can’t. It’s too much.”

“It’s hardly enough,” he replied ardently and her brow furrowed as she looked at his face, the earnestness on it clear as day to her. “I know these men, love. There’s no way they give you what you’ve earned. Not tonight, not ever. So please, take it.”

“Okay,” she agreed after a moment’s hesitation, feeling gratified by the fact that she had earned this, even if he wasn’t the one who should have to pay. “Thanks…”

“Killian,” he filled in before she could decide to use the nickname that Alvin had called him by.

“Killian,” she repeated, tasting the name on her tongue and loving the way it felt as it passed through her lips. “I’m Emma, by the way.”

“Emma,” he replied with a grin that was there and gone so quickly she would have missed it as she blinked. As it was, she knew she saw it, and that look was even more breathtaking than the rest of him. No one had a right to be that sexy. No one. “Well, until next time, Emma.”

With that, he turned and walked away, cold and composed once more as he led Alvin out of the bar and headed off into the night. And though Emma knew very little about him, she had a feeling she’d just met someone very important. Through the mist of all the new emotions and excitement, she sensed, deep down, that this man – Killian – mattered, and that somehow, someway, their fates were intertwined, destined to lead them back to each other in one way or another.

Post-Note: So there we have it! This is a short glimpse into the fic, kind of like a prologue if you will. Next chapter will flash forward a bit, because this honestly was angsty enough for me to write. I do not want to dwell in the bad circumstances Emma finds herself in, and instead want to get us to a fluffier, if still a bit wilder place than I am used to. As the description says this will be an MC (motorcycle club) romance, and we’ll reveal how that will come to pass in the next few chapters. In the meantime, I would love to hear what you all think! This is a break away from my usual fare, and pretty much the opposite of the other fic I am currently writing, but I have wanted to write a story like this for a really long time. I’m eager to share the rest of this fic with you all, and hope you will join me on this fun new journey. Anyway, thanks for reading and hope you have a great rest of your day!

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan au #cs fic #cs ff #cs fluff #cs angst #cs au #cs mc au #cs motorcycle club au #emma swan #killian jones #gold is a bad guy #the whole storybrooke gang #ouat au #when we collide #when we collide au

[ghosttotheparty]

say my name and say it twice (cotton candy skies)

11. also on AO3 chapter ten

Lucas gives Jens this feeling that doesn’t really make sense.

A feeling that makes every cell in his body feel like it’s been set alight, makes his stomach feel like it’s completely filled with butterflies, and his lungs too, making it difficult to breathe. A feeling that makes his hands shake and still simultaneously, that makes his heartbeat slow and quicken. It makes him feel seen, make him feel real, and alive, and…

It’s inexplicable.

Jens doesn’t know what it is, really. There’s just something about him. Maybe there’s something about the way his eyes shine and sparkle, those blue eyes of his, those eyes that seem like they could look right through Jens but don’t. Those eyes that look right at him so intensely it’s like they’re studying him, like they’re memorising him.

Maybe there’s something about the way his freckles are scattered across his face. It looks like someone flicked a paintbrush at his face, like he’s a work of art himself. It’s like the freckles have been shifted every time Jens looks at them, like they’re brand new. Someday Jens will finally have them memorised.

Maybe there’s something about the way he carries himself, the way he stands, the way he looks around himself like he’s searching for something. (Jens doesn’t know what he’s looking for.) It’s like he’s looking for something that doesn’t exist, constantly searching, scouring everything he lays his eyes on. Sometimes it looks like he’s looking for beautiful, like he’s looking for a muse. He pushes his hands into his pockets, gently tosses his head to the side, and his curls move out of his face. (Though Jens would rather push them out of his face himself.) He twists his ring, sometimes pulling it off and turning it between his fingers, the fingers that also tug on the chains around his neck.

Maybe there’s something about the way that hose fingers curl around Jens’s, how the very tips brush over his skin so lightly it’s like bugs crawling, like wind blowing, tickling softly. The way he feels the coldness of his ring against his skin, the metal becoming warm after a few seconds. The way his nails are always painted carefully, smooth colours all shiny and pretty.

Maybe there’s something in the way he moves his feet while he sits, swinging his foot back and forth by the ankle like he’s tapping it to music. Jens feels his foot thumping against the dumpster while they talk every time they sit there and could hear it under the table of the coffee shop, a steady rhythm that Lucas never seems to even notice. Comforting.

There’s definitely something in the way Lucas’s lips felt pressed to Jens’s, so soft and careful. (Everything Lucas does seems to be soft and careful.) The way his lips caught Jens’s lower lip for just a second, the way his hand came up and touched Jens’s chin gently before he pulled away, too soon for Jens to really react after his brain started working again.

Fuck.

Jens throws himself backwards on his bed, one leg hanging off and swinging as his lips press together and his eyes close like he’s reminiscing.

As Lucas walked away from him, all he wanted to do was twirl him around and pull him in again, to press his mouth to Lucas’s, slide his fingers into his curls. Feel Lucas wrap his arms around Jens’s waist, feel Lucas’s breath as he kisses him over and over.

But he didn’t.

He watched Lucas walk away until he felt like he could finally move, and then he went home, smiling. He’d considered texting Lucas So you’re just gonna kiss me and go, huh? but he didn’t do that either.

They haven’t talked about the kiss at all, like they’re pretending it didn’t even happen. (Except for the kissy emojis they send sometimes, but Jens doesn’t think those count.)

A door shuts outside Jens’s room and he sits up, holding himself up by leaning back on his hands, his eyes squinting sleepily at his door as he expects it to swing open.

“Jens!” his mother’s voice calls from the living room, and he sighs, rolling his eyes as he stands and opens his door. He stays in the door frame, watching as his mother sits on the sofa, putting her shoes on.

“Yes?”

“I’m taking Grandpa to some shops for the afternoon.” She finishes tying her shoes and walks over to him, stepping in front of him. “You’ll stay home for Lotte?”

“Yeah, of course.” He shrugs and she reaches up, holding his face softly.

“I don’t know when she’ll come out of her room, she had kind of a rough morning.”

“That’s okay. I’ll check on her when you leave.”

“Thanks, honey.” She get on her tiptoes and stretches up to press a kiss to his forehead.

“We’re going?” Dilan says from the other side of the room. Jens didn’t even see him there, and he startles slightly before looking up. Dilan is standing by the front door.

“Yep.” His mom pats his cheek and steps back, making her way to the door that Dilan is holding open now. “We’ll be back this evening. I love you!” She waves and Jens waves back.

“Bye, Jens!” Dilan calls.

“Bye!”

The door is shut and Jens sighs, leaning his head against the door frame before he makes his way to Lotte’s room. He doesn’t knock on the door and instead calls her name softly. He hears a mumbled “Yes.”

“Can I open the door?”

“Yes.”

He pushes the door open, leaning on the doorframe and looking at her. She’s laying on her back on the floor, her arms wrapped around a weighted pillow that’s on her chest. She looks at him for a second before looking back at the ceiling. Jens smiles at her long hair fanned around her head.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

She hums and pauses, her eyes jumping around on the ceiling. The light is off and her curtains are drawn, the room dim.

“Not right now.” Her tone is light and soft, so Jens doesn’t worry.

“Okay. I’m in my room if you need me, okay?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. I love you.”

She nods and he steps out, shutting the door softly. There’s a strict, but unspoken, no-slamming rule in the household. Jens has a habit now, of using both hands to shut doors, even at school and restaurants, resulting in his friends teasing. (But he doesn’t mind.)

He goes back to his room and flops on his bed, covering his face with his arms. Maybe he’ll fall asleep, that would be nice. Lotte would wake him up if she has to.

But he uncovers his face and sits up when his phone buzzes on his bedside table, and he reaches over, leaning on his arm, to pick it up without thinking. Addiction? Maybe. Whatever.

It’s a text from Lucas, and Jens’s heart flutters.

I’m so fucking bored, help me

Jens sits up and messages him back.

me too

He hesitates before typing again.

call me?

There’s a second before Lucas responds :) and another before he calls him, and Jens’s eyes widen when he sees that it’s a video call, and he sits up further, quickly running his hands through his hair before answering, his heart beating wildly.

“Hey.”

Lucas is grinning at him, his blue eyes sparkling under the soft sunlight of his room.

“Hi.” Jens can hear his smile in his voice.

“Where’s Milan?” Jens leans back on his headboard.

“Shopping with Zoë. And Senne’s out with friends.”

“So you’re all alone?” Jens feigns sadness.

“Yes.” Lucas pouts before snickering and shifting, the camera moving close to his face before pulling back. Jens can see all his freckles. “Where’s the grandpa?”

Jens makes a face.

“Out with my mom. I’m home with Lotte, she’s chilling in her room right now.”

“Lotte sounds sweet.”

“She is, I love her.”

Lucas smiles.

“How old is she?”

“Eight.”

“Oh!” Lucas jerks his chin back in surprise, raising his eyebrows. “I thought she was older for some reason.”

“Nope.”

“What do you guys do together? I don’t have any siblings, I don’t know how they work.”

Jens snorts.

“Uhm… We watch movies together, homework, sometimes I’ll read to her, or explain my homework to her.” Lucas furrows his brows and Jens shrugs. “She likes it.”

Lucas pushes himself forward onto his stomach and sets his phone against something before resting his chin on his forearms.

“What else?”

“Sometimes we just lay on the floor in silence.” Jens smiles as he says it. “It comforts her and it’s really peaceful.”

“Mm.” Lucas is smiling too.

“And I play guitar for her. We have this kind of… system, I guess? She gives me a colour and I play something that’s that colour.”

Lucas is still smiling and he cocks his head, listening intently.

“I don’t really know how to explain it, it’s like…” He sighs, looking away for a second. “Whatever colour she wants to hear, I’ll play, and sometimes it’s because she needs stimulation or something to focus on, and sometimes it’s because she’s sad or wants to hang out.”

“That’s really cool.”

Jens nods. He’s never explained it to anyone before, never had to put it into words. Their mom isn’t really a big part of the system, but sometimes she stands in the doorway and watches as Jens plays and Lotte rocks back and forth.

“Will you play something for me?”

They stare at each other for a second.

“What colour?”

“Oh, uhm…”

While Lucas thinks, Jens grabs a pillow and sets his phone on it. He gets up and gets his guitar before sitting again, and he fixes the phone when it falls as the mattress moves under his weight.

“Pink.”

“Pink…” Jens repeats, smiling to himself. He presses his callused fingertips to the strings and plays a light, sort of playful tune, something that’s somehow between Für Elise and the Adam’s Family. When it’s done, he looks at the screen and sees Lucas smiling widely.

“What song is that?” Lucas asks after a second.

“Oh, I don’t…” Jens shrugs. “Colour songs are all improvised.”

“You just made that up?” Lucas asks, his eyes wide. Jens nods, his cheeks heating. “Damn…”

“It’s fun,” Jens says, placing the guitar to the side, resting it against his bedside table. “I like seeing Lotte smile when I play, it’s the best part.”

“That’s so cute.”

“You know what you could do?” Jens picks the phone up and leans back, holding it in front of him.

“What?”

“Paint something, with like, a main colour, and then I’ll play it for you.”

Lucas beams excitedly, his eyebrows raising as his jaw drops.

“Oh my God, I love that, we should absolutely do that.”

“You can make it like, abstract or something,” Jens says and his voice trails off as his door opens slowly. He looks up, away from the phone.

“Jens?” Lotte says tentatively as she steps into the room. She looks at his curtains after spotting him on the bed.

“What is it, ladybug?”

“I need help.”

“With what?”

“Math homework.”

“Is that Lotte?” Lucas asks quietly and Jens nods. “Hi, Lotte!” he calls, and Jens smiles. Lotte makes a confused face, her brows pulling together as she frowns. Jens beckons to her.

“Come say hi.”

Lotte steps next to Jens and he moves his arm so they don’t touch.

“Hi,” Lucas says again, waving.

“His name is Lucas,” Jens says before she can ask who he is.

“Hi, Lucas,” she says quickly, and Lucas beams happily. “Will you help me?” she asks, stepping back and looking at Jens.

“Yeah, of course. Where do you want to do it?”

She takes a second before shrugging.

“Do you want to do it in the living room or do you want to bring it in here?”

Her eyes scan the ceiling before she answers.

“Here.”

“Go on and get it.”

She nods and leaves without shutting the door.

“I gotta go,” Jens says, looking at Lucas. Lucas is smiling, his face and eyes soft as he looks at Jens.

“Okay. We’ll call later?”

“Of course.”

“Okay.”

They gaze at each other for another second.

“Bye,” Jens says softly and Lucas puckers his lips, blowing a kiss to the camera, saying a low “Bye,” before he hangs up.

Jens takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and tilting his head back.

They’ll call later, he thinks blissfully.

He puts his phone back on his bedside table as Lotte comes back in, carrying several papers, pencils, and a blanket.

“Floor or bed?” he asks.

“Floor.”

He tugs a blanket from the bed and wraps it around himself as he plops himself on the floor, and Lotte giggles, dropping the papers and pencils. As Jens picks up the first paper and reads the problem, Lotte copies him, wrapping her blanket around her shoulders before sitting.

“So what do you already know?” Jens asks.

“I start with twelve…”

#i love lotte sm #and also lucas and jens #yall know that #anyway love you #van der stoffels fic #van der stoffles #vds #vds fic #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #lucas vdh #wtfock #skam nl #cotton candy skies #cotton candy skies always look better in person #say my name and say it twice

[checkoutafrica]

Interview; Elo Zar – SA’s breath of fresh air part 1

There are so many things that I love about the woman that is Elo Zar, but I think the one thing that I love most about this beautiful soul is her personality! I wish personality could translate through words because I kid you not, never in this life have I ever felt so comfortable doing an interview – She just has this incredible aura about her and it honestly felt like I was catching up with an old friend!

Elo Zar encompasses the freedom to be, she makes her own rules and doesn’t care what anyone has to say about it – she just does her. This is translated through her style, the way she brands herself and of course the music she creates. She lives her life unapologetically and so she should! She is the woman that I one day aspire to be – a free spirit who lives life for herself.

This is not your average SA musician, she is an electro-pop musician. Tell me how many alternative musicians you know in South Africa right now? Well, I’d like to introduce you to my favourite! Her bright pink brand oozing of femininity and the celebration thereof, she is big on women taking their space and being comfortable in their own bodies. Playing small is not a concept Elo Zar knows anything about!

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I just came from a tough week and I’m still recovering from it. #BOPHELO #queenofquirk #alternativeafrican

A post shared by ELO (@elo_zar) on Mar 24, 2020 at 4:52am PDT

Firstly, who is Elo Zar and what exactly is your brand?

Elo Zar is basically just somebody who thinks out of the box and is quite creative, especially when it comes to the conventional items that make up creativity – so when it comes to music, I just don’t believe in doing things normally. When it comes to art, like fine arts, I’m just like somebody must do something different and when it comes to film it’s the same thing. I am somebody like that, I am also a person who believes in doing things differently- playing outside the boundaries you know? Especially as an African, doing it for Africans, because most of the time you find that when you tell people you’re going to be an electro-pop musician or an alternative musician, only Europe and America or whatever will get it – no one ever puts Africa as a thought for this genre of music but I’m like NO! I am going to start a revolution! They are going to like my song, at least one.

But that is me, that is my brand. As a brand, I stand for your self-journey. Fight to be different and fighting to stay different because that is what you are! That has also been the story of my own personal journey!

In one of your interviews, you spoke on how you went through an identity crisis growing up, can you tell us more about that and how/ when you finally discovered who you truly were? Any advice for anyone going through the same thing?

I mean, look, I did not like being a teenager. OMG. I had a lot of exes as a teenager trying to find love, trying to find acceptance because I was always the black sheep in my family – I never had anyone to relate to. In my family, I was almost perceived as a nerd, even though I wasn’t and I spoke better English which didn’t really work for me. I think I was also raised by a strict mom who was very hardworking and who didn’t allow us to do a lot of things so the rest of the family sort of treated her like the Hitler of the household and we got the back clash as her kids, especially me as the last born. I almost had to be the cushion for everyone else, I was that always that kid that made sure everyone in the house was okay when they would have arguments or when members of my family were going through something. The problem with that is that it became a default characteristic of mine. In retrospect I forgot me. I didn’t have a chance to figure out who I was because I was trying to manage the environment in the house so I ended up taking that into the world which is probably why I was an outcast in school. So with all of this, you’re trying to figure out who you are, constantly asking yourself questions like why am I like this? what’s wrong with me? Cause also I never liked peer pressure, I thought it was silly, especially with fashion – I never did what people were doing so that resulted in me not actually having a crew. I never just blindly followed people.

After all of that, I started to embark on that journey of self-acceptance and I had to. And even with people I thought were my friends at some point, I realised like “yo, guys, we’re not gelling as much as I thought – we just hang out together because we like the same music and that’s not enough for me.”

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I found myself realizing the depths of my brokenness but I’m here now and that pain WILL no longer define me. #BOPHELO ft @kommanda_obbs see bio for

#queenofquirk #alternativeafrican

A post shared by ELO (@elo_zar) on Mar 24, 2020 at 4:53am PDT

Once I got my degree and I decided that I am going to be a full-on artist and embrace my music side, that is when I had to face me. Whoever that was! And I am grateful for that because I had to look at the wounds and be like “yeah, this level of rejection still hurts” and it was painful. When you go through a lot of rejection you go through life with a lot of walls around you, trust becomes a huge issue. So then, I had to start working to kill that off because I wanted real love, I wanted authentic love – not just from somebody else but from me to myself. And because of that, I am in a much better place.

If I had to advise anybody, its that; at the end of the day when you go to bed you sleep alone, when you wake up they’re your eyes that you open. I think that everyone should learn and have the courage to ask questions, especially self questions and find self-love beyond family and beyond friends. Once you have that, you can share that because it is never going to run out!

What was it like singing back up for the iconic Vusi Nova and what did you learn from him in terms of being a musician and personal growth?

OMG. It was frightening. It was very scary because at that point I wasn’t even confident within myself, I didn’t know if I could pull through but he kept me around and I really appreciate that. I still do.

It was quite enlightening and with everything that I had gone through, clearly, that whole no peer pressure thing was a great skill that I had mastered. I learnt that just because you’re trying to figure out the industry, it doesn’t mean that you have to be like everybody else and do things the way everyone else is doing them. There are people that pay a high price to be popular, to stay popular and when I was in those scenes I was observing these lifestyle choices, asking why people wanted to do certain things. I was constantly asking myself “are these people actually happy?”

Being a backup vocalist for Vusi has honestly anchored me in the sense that I can be like “I’ve seen this before and that guy, he did not look happy!” But also I enjoyed being on stage, it was so beautiful to watch him perform, I mean he has this personality when he hits the stage and it still inspires me to this day.

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#Interviews #Music #African music #elo zar #interview #music #musician #south african music