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peachy-rambles · 3 years

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Kikis delivery service au? 👀 Please go on, that’s one of my favorites of the ghibli movies and I would love to hear your thoughts on it

(Also really dumb idea but Tommy as Gigi but he’s a raccoon. Who for? Yes. Regardless of who is Kiki- oooooh and there’s that artist lady with the crows-)

-inky

Ok so here's some thoughts I have about it off the top of my head:

When Phil was 13, he left home as young witches do (with his dove familiar, Wilbur) to find his way in the world and whatever his special talent was because every witch has a special talent. He finds his way to a big city and settles there, finding work at a garden centre. He was always good with plants and he enjoys his job, even if it's a lot of work. There's even a bakery down the street he often visits and becomes friends with the owner.

One day when Phil visits the bakery, he notices that the owner is acting different and seems much more quiet and closed off. It doesn't take much pressing from him to get her to tell him what's wrong.

"It's my son. He's sick and I can't afford the medicine he needs," she eventually admits.

Phil gets more details from her about her son and he heads back to where he's staying, pulling out an old book he'd packed before leaving. It's an ancient journal written by one of his ancestors about herbs, potions and brewing medicine. He gets to work, figuring out which potion he needs to make and collects the plants he needs to it from the garden centre. It takes a few trial and errors but eventually he successfully makes the potion he needs.

He brings it to the bakery's owner and gives her the proper instructions on how to give it to her son before leaving.

A few weeks later when he visits the bakery, the owner is delighted to see him and tells him that his potion worked! Her son is still recovering, but he was no longer sick and almost healthy again.

The owner brings Phil to meet her son, Techno, who just turned 3. Techno loves Phil right away, especially because he knows Phil is the one who helped him get better. Over the next few years, Phil often visits the bakery and will sometimes babysit Techno, spending time with him.

Eventually though, Phil figures it's time for him to leave the city and to head back home. Techno is naturally distraught and is angry at Phil, thinking his friend is leaving him for good. But Phil promises he'll send Techno letters and definitely visit whenever he gets the chance.

Phil returns home and makes good on his promise, sending Techno letters at least twice a month and Techno always writes him back (well, he tries his best, being only 5 and all).

But then...Phil's letters slow down to once a month. Then once every few months.

The last letter Techno receives from Phil is wishing Techno a happy 6th birthday, and how Phil will try to visit in a few weeks if he can.

He never does.

Despite this, Techno keeps sending letters, hoping maybe if he sends enough Phil will reply. But as more time passes, he realizes that's it's probably useless and knows that Phil won't reply. Techno doesn't give up completely however and once a year, he'll send Phil a letter, telling him about all the things that have happened to him in the past year. He always ends the letter by saying how he misses Phil and hopes he's okay.

Years pass and Techno grows up, eventually inheriting the bakery from his mother who passed away when Techno was 18. Techno is an amazing baker, but because of his giant size and generally terrifying appearance+social anxiety and awkwardness...he isn't good at running the bakery and interacting with people. So, he hires another local baker named Niki to help him out. They're both great bakers and work well together, but Niki is usually the one manning the front and interacting with customers while Techno stays (hides) in the back.

Eventually, Techno (and Niki) take on an apprentice named Ranboo. He's not the best at baking yet, but he has a genuine interest in it and is great at making cookies and decorating cakes.

One day, while Ranboo is helping closing up the bakery with Techno, he's notices a little yellow raccoon with a green bandana tied around it's neck, digging through the trash. It hisses and runs away as soon as it spots Ranboo, but it's back the next night. This time though, Ranboo is prepared and has a spare loaf of broad to offer the raccoon. The raccoon still hisses at him and runs off, but not before nabbing the bread from Ranboo.

This becomes a routine for about a week, Ranboo feeding the raccoon any spare food from the bakery. At the end of the week, Ranboo decides to follow the raccoon. Because it's clearly going somewhere with the food and the bandana around it's neck probably mean it belongs to someone.

That's how Ranboo meets Tubbo - a witch in training, who wasn't able to find a place to stay and has been wandering the streets for the past week. His raccoon familiar, Tommy, was taking the food that Ranboo gave him and giving it to Tubbo to eat since he had no money or food left.

Ranboo listens to Tubbo's plights and after thinking it over, Ranboo comes up with an idea: Tubbo could live with Ranboo in the spare attic above the bakery that Techno let's Ranboo stay in!

Tubbo doesn't hesitate and accepts Ranboo's offer. They do attempt to hide Tubbo's presence from Techno, unsure of how he'll react to a witch (or you know, just a strange random teenager living in his attic), but Techno catches them on the first day when Tubbo sneaks into the bakery to steal some desserts.

Techno isn't heartless so he let's Tubbo continue to stay with Ranboo, just as long as he helps around the bakery and doesn't get in anyone's way. Even though Techno seems to not mind Tubbo's presence, the others in the bakery still can't help but notice that Techno very much avoids Tubbo and they have no idea why.

Maybe Techno dislikes witches or is scared of them? But if he does, why would he agree to let Tubbo stay.

Of course we know why Techno is hesitant around Tubbo: it's because of Phil.

Techno doesn't hate Phil or hate witches because of Phil, but he is...hesitant to trust them or get close to them. Which is why he's so wary around Tubbo and does his best to ignore and avoid him. Afterall, Techno has no idea what happened to Phil or why he stopped sending letters and why he broke his promise to Techno.

The truth is, when Phil returned home all those years ago, it turned out that while he was gone his parents had made an arranged marriage for him to another witch from a powerful family. Phil didn't really have a choice and went through with the marriage. He didn't tell Techno any of this through his letters because Techno was just a child and Phil didn't think it was relevant to tell him.

All of Techno's letters that he mailed were all sent to Phil's family's house, which Phil no longer lived at (now living with his spouse) and Phil would always send Wilbur over to deliver any letters from Techno to him.

As time went on, Phil became more and more depressed with his living situation, especially because his spouse and their family weren't...the nicest.

Eventually, something happens with his spouse, which makes Phil snap and he runs away, leaving everyone behind. He travels for a very long time until he finds a little abandoned cabin at the edge of some woods, nearby a small quaint little town. Phil decides to make the cabin his own and it becomes home to him. He eventually builds a greenhouse and garden, turning his little cabin into an apothecary, where he makes and sells potions and medicines (he will also sell his plants if people are interested, but it's mostly the potions).

He eventually earns the nickname "the Crowfather" by the town and surrounding area, due to the amount of birds (mostly crows but other birds as well) that tend to hang around his cabin and shop. Sometimes you can ever catch him talking to the birds (usually scolding them for whatever reason).

Phil enjoys the life he's made for himself and avoids thinking about his past, but sometimes he'll remember Techno and feel some regret. He sometimes wonders if maybe he should send Techno a letter and tell him that he's okay, that he misses Techno and had full intentions of visiting him, but life had other plans. Phil has written many letters over the years to Techno, but whenever he tries to send one, he always backs out and ends up throwing the letter away.

Techno was just a child when he last saw Phil and has probably long forgotten Phil already, so there's no need to send him a letter. That's what Phil believes anyway.

Phil pushes any thoughts of Techno out of his head and tries to focus on the life he has now.

Eventually, Phil finds and takes in a toddler named Tubbo, who Phil recognizes as another witch. Phil raises Tubbo and trains him in the ways of witches, until the day Tubbo turns 13 and heads off to go on his own journey to find his special talent.

Phil has no idea that his apprentice ended up in the same city Phil did all those years ago, and somehow found the same bakery Phil did and is now living under Techno's roof and being looked after by him.

But Phil will find out when Tubbo sends his first letter to Phil, giving him all the details of his journey so far, including the bakery he's staying in and the owner - Techno.

#techza #technophil #asks and replies #peachy said a thing #peachy fic prompts #inky anon

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1ddiscourseoftheday · 3 years

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Thurs 4 Feb ‘21

Confirmation is here at last of Harry’s role in the film adaptation of My Policeman, brought to us by queer fave Greg Berlanti (and his husband). Harry will costar with Emma Corrin, who you may remember from the at the time inexplicable seeming Harry/Emma cross promo last August-- given the pains they took then to emphasize that the relationship was platonic, one assumes this film will go for a different promo tactic than the current one! They share a stylist though, so they’ll no doubt be beautifully coordinated. Harry will play Tom, which some people object to on the grounds that Harry is the wrong person to play the role of a closeted man which is certainly… one opinion. Aaaaand there’s plenty more of that discourse (and about him playing a policeman) to come over the coming months so I’ll just leave it there for now! Anyway and as for that current project, we got more DWD set pics today, featuring Harry in various costume outfits! There’s ones where his character looks bloodied, and ones where his character looks clean but absolutely terrifying, grown up frat boy from hell looks to give you CHILLS, plus some of Harry as Harry in a bright orange hoodie designed by his friend Kunichi Nomura.There was also {moustache spoilers} some weird facial hair on display. Okay then!

Project Defenseless has been launched to push Defenseless up in the streaming charts and push for radio play! The fan single project offers resources and organized pushes to get people streaming and promoting on all the platforms and reaching out to radio, and has fans making lots of very cool edits besides! “I see what you’re doing with defenseless! You are all incredible!” said Louis. That song is such a fitting choice for this kind of project! Its journey has been all about the fan response from back when Louis played it for us for the very first time in 2019 (it was the one everyone was screaming about from soundcheck clips for the few hours between that and hearing the songs for real even) and afterwards he told us about how although he’d always liked the song it clicked for him in a new way after getting the fan reaction, saying “something happened to it when I performed it live, and ever since then it really kind of got me,” and “the fans make everything sound amazing, they made it sound so good,” and “the fans for whatever reason really took to this song, so now it has a special place in me heart definitely”. Plus of course there was the long saga of fan stress when it seemed like it might not be on the album and rejoicing when Louis finally definitively confirmed that it would be, after what seemed like might have been a reversal on his part due to the outcry about it. And now she’s climbing all kinds of charts like a the star she is! The song shot up on itunes (#3 worldwide, #1 in 16 countries) just for starters and the project has only just got going. Louis commented on the stats-- “An album track off an album that’s a year old. You lot blow my fucking mind! Thank you so much!”

Louis also commented on a Jack Saunders (BBC indie music DJ) tweet and followed guitarist Johnny Took of the DMAs on twitter which is weird only in that he didn’t already.

There’s news about Zayn’s Zach Sang interview, and it’s not the most surprising news but it is very sad; Zach says “hi beautiful humans, this convo was scheduled for last week but we got a rain check from his team. this conversation can still happen, it ain’t over yet! we’ll keep ya in the loop. I listened to this album 7 times! we’re determined” Well... damn. However Zayn DID pop up with some spon-content but like… the WEIRDEST ad content?? It’s for Coors Light and, well I’ll let Zayn tell you about it! “They’re gonna see if they can put a commercial inside your dreams... which is kind of messed up.” HAHAHAHA I have nothing to add! What Zayn said!!! “So we’re gonna give that a go and uh see if it works,” he says, sounding appropriately skeptical, followed by “wish me luck”. Does this kind of sponcon count as malicious compliance? Technically he DID say the stuff he was supposed to- and he’s doing an instagram live for them Sat, supposedly. I can’t wait to see how that goes! Wish him luck! The latest installment of the NIL comic book video series is also out today, but just one this time instead of a pair. This week’s song is Connexion and the new comic shows us that the figure pursuing our hero is, drumroll-- himself! The call is coming from inside the house!

Unlike interview shy Zayn, however, Gigi is out there ready to overshare, as long as it’s to Vogue. She has plenty to say about giving birth to zaby Khai (newly revealed nickname: Khaiba) at home at the Pennsylvania farm. The article says that they decided to have the birth at home due to COVID placing restrictions on hospital births that would have prevented Bella and Zayn and Yolanda all being present, and after she and Zayn watched the documentary The Business of Being Born. “They placed a blow-up bath in their bedroom and sent their three cats and border collie away when the midwife expressed concern that the sphynx and Maine coon felines might puncture the tub with their claws,” the interviewer learns while horseback riding with Gigi. The article also says Zayn “caught the baby” but it isn’t a direct quote from Gigi and I’m thinking a bit of an exaggeration perhaps. Gigi had the baby at the Hadid family farm but she and Zayn have since relocated to live at his farm, which is nearby, where they say they will be raising the child, with Z’s mom Trisha coming to stay to help out for the first month, that Khai sleeps with them, and that Zayn said his experience of the whole thing reminded him of the birth in a lion documentary they’d watched. Neither mentioned it but it has been spotted that Gigi and Zayn each now have tattoos of the name, Khai, in Arabic.

Meanwhile, Niall surfaced only in golf guy mode- a Modest Golf announcement and a podcast appearance to promote the new Modest initiative to get young people into playing golf. He says they want to “get rid of that thing that’s been holding golf back for a long time, that it’s a boring sport…” and I know he means he’s trying to combat that idea but when I tell you I LAUGHED!

#Harry styles #louis tomlinson #zayn #niall horan #a week before Louis confirmed that Defenseless would be on Walls he said in an interview that the rock version of Just Hold On was on the al #album #it seemed like that got bumped in favor of defenseless due to fan rallying #there had been things he’d said that made us think defenseless wasn’t on the album #which UNFORTUNATELY I COULD NOT FIND which is very annoying but I remember that there was a reason we thought that #he had said some things #Barry McGee #the degrees of separation between Harry and myself get thinner every day but will I ever meet him? NO :(#tbh do I even want to in some weird awkward way maybe also no but still sigh #4 feb 21 #greg berlanti #the zaby #Kunichi Nomura #emma corrin #jack saunders #johnny took #zach sang #project defenseless #zigi #gigi hadid #me: just peacefully trying to crank out a huge post about the history of defenseless and fans #stuff: KEEPS HAPPENING all DAY

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adoresobs · 4 years

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- lovebirds! ( 𝐓.𝐂 )

@skatababy : could u do another spill ur guts one where the reader and timothée are already dating? or is that outta pocket😳

THIS FIC CONTAINS foul language & fluff

𝐌 𝐀 𝐒 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐋 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓

the game started off with high energy, james introducing both you and your boyfriend causing the audience to erupt with loud cheers and applause as you both stepped out.

you were nervous considering you’d watched others play this game. there wasn’t really a win for anyone, you either ate nasty food or answered a question that may cause a stir. you agreed to do it nonetheless because why not? you’d have fun, and it couldn’t be that bad.

sitting at the table, you almost gagged at the smells entering your nose. as james read off the rules and the names of the foods, you wanted to throw up then and there but managed to keep it in. there was no way you were gonna be able to eat either a cow’s tongue, ant yogurt, turkey testicles, a giant water scorpion, a fish’s eye, a jalapeno, ham and mayo smoothie, a raw clam shooter with vienna sausage juice, or some pig flesh meat jelly.

you looked over at timothée who had his hand over his mouth. he obviously was thinking the same thing as you.

“y/n! we’ll let you go first, you’ll be asking timothée a question.”

you gave him a nod, grabbing a card and reading the question. “you’ll be eating....ant yogurt. now, on a scale from one to ten, how much do you regret doing a rainy day in new york?” laughing, you looked up at your boyfriend whose mouth was wide open.

“i can’t answer that!”

“so, you do regret it?”

“i- n- that’s not what i meant!” he defended. “fuck,” he muttered and grabbed a spoon.

“oh, there’s no way he’s actually gonna-” james was saying but stopped and gasped dramatically when timmy pushed the spoonful of ant yogurt into his mouth.

you were too busy laughing as timothée attempted to get the food down. he almost reached over to grab the garbage can but stopped and swallowed it, sticking out his tongue so you could see that it was gone.

“that tasted like...” he began only to be cut off by you.

“shit?”

“exactly.”

timothée went on to ask james his question which he couldn’t answer. james ended up eating a water scorpion, not even hesitating before doing so. then it was your turn and timmy was looking at you with a smirk.

“y/n, you’ll be having and enjoying a turkey testicle!” the enthusiasm in james’ voice made you want to roll your eyes. “your question is who was your least favorite co star and why?” the question made the audience ‘ooo’ in interest, wanting to know the question.

“i- i can’t answer that!” you said with a laugh.

“better get to eating, amour.” the nickname that timothée barely realized he called you made the people in the audience ‘aww’ and coo.

“love that you decide to make me blush when i’m about to eat a testicle.”

“well, what else am i here for?”

“alright, lovebirds.” james interrupted. “let y/n enjoy her snack.” a childish laugh fell from his lips.

you picked up one of the turkey testicles and popped it into your mouth, chewing fast and then swallowing as soon as you could. the audience was cheering you on, so you felt slightly better after the disgusting taste.

“alrighty! your turn, pretty boy. i’m sure you’ll like the fish’s eye?” you turned the table until it reached him. he only groaned at your choice. “obviously, since we’re dating, you’ve met my friends. but between zendaya, kendall jenner, and gigi hadid, which friend do you like the most and which do you like the least?” you read off the question, looking up at him with a smirk.

timothée reached for the fish’s eye and took a big bite out of it, not bothering to say anything before.

both you and james burst into laughter at the obvious disgust on his face. “you good, tim?”

“i hate you both,” he joked, swallowing the eye.

#Timothee Chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x you #timothée chalamet imagine #timothee blurb #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee chalamet fluff #timothee fluff #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet fic

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fnf-brain-rot · 3 years

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[Whitty x Boyfriend]

Chapter 2 - are you okay with company?

"Thank's again for giving me a ride Gigi.." Boyfriend stretched himself out in the limo seat. Girlfriend giggled and nodded, looking out the window. She didn't like coming to this downtown area.. It seemed really dangerous. At least she wasn't the one getting out of the limo. "Do you think.. If you could get his trust some more, I can meet him properly too?" She asked him, and Boyfriend nodded excitedly. "Yes! That's the whole plan! He has no one there for him, so I'll share my friends as a gift!" Boyfriend sat up as the car stopped. Opening the door, he looked back at her. "I have until two pm, right?" Girlfriend nodded. "Well.. See you on the flip side." He grinned and hopped out. She sighed happily once he closed the door. He was so precious..

Boyfriend was of course a couple blocks away from where Whitty stayed. He hoped he was still there.

He turned the corner after a bit of walking and peered into the seemingly empty alleyway. He frowned, and ventured forward. "Whitty? You here?" He called out, sticking his hands in his pockets, only for them to shoot out in surprise, throwing them up in the air as he squealed a high pitch "beep!". Whitty sat up from behind an air conditioner, rubbing his head as if he had been sleeping before Boyfriend showed up. He took a moment to look at him, then relaxed. "Oh. It's you." He sighed, then stretched his arms up. He must be aching, sleeping on hard concrete.

"Hey Whits, glad to see you're still alive." Boyfriend breathed out, then laughed lightly. Whitty made a face. Whits? He hasn't heard that nickname before. "I've been running for months now, I'm not gonna keel over after sleeping on the ground for one night." He grunted in response. Boyfriend stuck his tongue out at him, deciding to plop down next to him. He tensed a bit at the action, but he didn't fight against it. "I'm guessing you didn't eat today?" Boyfriend asked him, pulling out his phone. "N.. No.." Whitty answered honestly. "It... doesn't matter anyway." He looked away. He could feel the pain in his stomach growing worse, it only made him clutch his torso, balling up his jacket in his fingers.

"C'mon, let's go get something to eat." Boyfriend stood up, holding his phone to his ear. "What? Where? Why? Wait-" Whitty stood up as well, nervously pressing himself into the brick wall behind him. "Relax, we don't have to sit in. I'm calling this restaurant that's some way from here, they do delivery." He began to make his way out of the alleyway. With some hesitation, Whitty followed him. He didn't bother to ask where they were going, but he was very cautious, scoping their surroundings as they began to change to something less broken down and decrepit. "What do you wanna eat?" Boyfriend asked Whitty, who simply shrugged. Boyfriend had a feeling Whitty could eat just about anything, so he ordered.. Quite a bit of food. He checked for allergies, Whitty simply shook his head.

Ten minutes of walking pass, and they end up in a park. whitty was unsure about being out in the open like this, but Boyfriend took his hand and led him to a large tree that overshadowed a little pond. Whitty's long strides accounted for Boyfriend attempting to drag him in that direction.

Boyfriend sat him down under the tree, then pointed to the direction they came from. "Alright stay here, I'm gonna go get our food okay?" He then ran off, leaving Whitty to his thoughts.

Why was he helping him? He could understand he felt bad for setting him off, but all this? Is he trying to gain something from it? Did he actually call to get food or.. is it a trick? That could explain him being so nice to such an extent in such a short amount of time-

Right as Whitty was about to get up and flee, he noticed Boyfriend jogging back, panting heavily and holding anywhere from five to ten bags full of food that the bomb man could smell from where he was sitting. He didn't exactly.. Know why he wasn't expecting the shorty to come back. He was kinda glad he did though.

"I got it! I got it!" The blue haired cried out between breaths. He sat all the bags down in front of Whitty, panting heavily, dramatically raising a fist to the sky in a victorious way. Whitty couldn't help but chuckle a little. He was a little funny. "What.. What did you get?" He asked in a quiet voice. Boyfriend plopped down on the ground in front of him, putting a finger to his chin. "I think... a little bit of everything?" He mumbled in thought, but seemed confident that's what he got.

Whitty felt heat involuntarily rush to his cheeks. He hoped it wasn't showing. "How... much did that cost you?"

"Don't worry about it! Start stuffing food in yo' face hole!" Boyfriend exclaimed in protest, opening one of the bags. The aroma of what smelled like burgers and fries filled the air, and only made Whitty's stomach cramps worse. He took a random bag and opened it. Was that.. Was that a steak he could smell?? In the box under it he could smell some other type of meat but wasn't sure of what, onion rings, breadsticks, and all sorts of other delicious delacacies that made his mouth start to water.

Boyfriend already chomped down on some big burger that had an egg, caramalized onions, and some other foods on it. Whitty picked up the juicy steak with his hands and took a bite. His eyes grew wider than Boyfriend has ever seen, and in a good way rather than how he was looking at him during their first encounter. There was a brightness in them that seemed somewhat cute. Whitty was eager to tear at the steak, and the whole thing was just.. gone, in such a short period of time. Boyfriend blinked and it vanished. One box, two boxes, three boxes, four boxes, Whitty began mowing through the food as if he hadn't eaten in literal years. Boyfriend was still eating the one burger he picked up, and was surprised when, within five minutes, Whitty was through half the boxes. Well.. at least the food and money didn't go to waste like he was afraid it would.

Boyfriend rested against the tree beside Whitty, feeling full from the one burger alone, said bomb man had finished up the rest of the boxes. Either this guy has a big ass stomach or.. actually he couldn't think of any other reason for such intense consumption. Whitty even cleaned up the mess for the two of them, setting the couple of trash filled bags beside them to throw away on their way out. Boyfriend looked up over to Whitty. He looked a little chubbier, geez he ate so much. "You full dude?" He couldn't help but laugh, and the blush returned to Whitty's face. "Not really.." He admitted. Boyfriend blinked. "Wh-huh??" He sat up a bit, then laughed some more. "What are you a bottomless pit??" He joked, and Whitty pulled on his hoodie strings a little in embarrassment. He doesn't usually like to pig out in front of people like that, but.. He felt like it was okay. Plus he's not starving anymore. "You should teach me how to hold food down like that. Gigi's cooking isn't all that great." He rubbed one of his eyes tiredly. All that eating made him wanna take a nap. Whitty huffed under his breath. "Dunno how I'm ever gonna do that.."

Boyfriend was tempted to stay with Whitty for the night, but ultimately thought against it. It would be nice to sleep with someone, but it's not only dangerous for Whitty, but for himself too. He called Girlfriend and bid a farewell to Whitty, who waved back this time.

Boyfriend couldn't contain his excitement to talk to Girlfriend in the limo about how his progress was going!

#fnfboyfriend #whitty #friday night funkin #fnfwhitmore #fnf whitty #fnf #bf x whitty

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featherymalignancy · 3 years

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this is so random but can you please tell us more about Manon, Dorian, and their relationship? when you included Manorian in In Vino Veritas I was so happy they are one of my top favorite Sjm ships :)

Omg this is the ask I didn’t know I wanted! This is gonna be fun.

So they met (kinda) at one of Dorian’s games. He’s a center for the LA Kings, the very real NHL hockey team in LA

SIDENOTE: When writing in modern AU I try not to make up details if I can help it, so it’s so fun when the stars align for me to make a cheeky nod to canon that’s still rooted in fact. For instance, when I’d already set the AU in California and decided to make Dorian a professional athlete and it just so happens to be that the hockey team in LA is The Kings.

Okay so Dorian Havillard: Captain, starting Center, and all-around Superstar for the Los Angeles Kings.

Rich boy from Beacon Hill, a suburb of Boston, MA on the East Coast.

Despite being recruited by Boston College in his hometown, he play hockey for The dreaded University of Michigan (listen, if you like college sportsball and you didn’t go to Michigan, you probably hate Michigan for good reason jk to anyone who went to U of M but also yall know your reputation 😂😂 )

He was teammates at Michigan with Chaol Westfall, the iron-tough goalie for the Colorado Avalanche, hailed by fans as the second coming of Avalanche superstar Patrick Roy

In LA, the line between athlete and celebrity is thinner than other markets so like...Dorian’s got a lot of famous friends. He parties with pop stars and actors and he was in a commercial with Lebron James for Gatorade.

And like...he’s hot so he kinda gets a lot of tail too. (jk not kinda the dude is promiscuousssss)

Manon Blackbeak:

Manon mixed race. Her mother was Cree, one of the largest of the First Nations in Canada. Her father was French.

As teenagers, Manon’s mother and aunt became models in Paris after being “discovered” in Québéc in the early 1970s by China Machado, the fashion editor for Harper’s Bazaar at the time.

Previous to becoming to the fashion editor at HB, China (pronounced Chee-na)—who was of Chinese and Portuguese descent—was one of the first non-Caucasian models to become a breakthrough success. She was taken by the Blackbeak sisters’ beauty—striking and so unlike the placid blondes dominating magazine covers and runaways at the time—and convinced their mother to let the girls to move to Paris to model for names like Balenciaga and Givenchy.

Jacqueline and Naomi both married French men, and had their daughters—Manon and Asterin—a year apart. The girls were raised mostly in Paris, though their pride for their Cree heritage was fostered by both their mothers and grandmother.

Professionally, they both go by their maternal surname Blackbeak, which has given rise to the nickname “The French Hadids” (in reference to American models/sisters Gigi and Bella Hadid) even though Manon and Asterin are cousins and not sisters

I could go on about their careers and the badass way they use their influence to speak out against the cultural appropriation of indigenous imagery in fashion and entertainment (DO BETTER, VICTORIA SECRET/KARLIE KLOSS) but thats a story for another day

How Did They Meet?

The Blackbeak cousins had begun spending more time in the US as their fame as models grew, and paparazzi took obvious notice.

When the girls attend an LA Kings game, obviously the stadium takes notice.

Between periods of play, they stadium gets the crowd excited by playing music and getting fans on a the Jumbotron singing along or dancing

AnYWAYS

The camera finds Manon for the FIRST time when they’ve got the crowd BUMPING to Timmy Trumpet’s “Freaks”, but Manon is not having it. She refuses to dance or even acknowledge that the camera is on her...

Which DELIGHTS the camera guy/the crowd, and Manon immediately beguns their fave target.

Every time there is a break in the game and music is playing, the camera pans to find a sullen Manon, who is continually nonplussed.

However, at one point Dorian draws a penalty and is put in the penalty box and they play Billie Eilish’s “Bad Guy” as the other team prepares for their power play (basically Dorian is forced to sit on the bench while the other team has an extra player) and

When it gets to the end of the chorus (I’m a baaaaaad guy) the camera hits Manon just in time for her to give a small but unmistakeable shrug and a evil little smirk for the “duh”

And the crowd goes WILD

And Dorian is totally goo goo eyes. In the two minutes he’s in the box, he manages to wave over one of the interns and send her to where Manon and Asterin are sitting to invite them to come out with him after the game

Coincidentally, despite being TOTALLY distracted by her, Dorian gets right out of the bench and scores

For her part, Manon is not impressed when some college-age girl is interrupting her evening to ask if she’ll come out with some himbo Manon’s never hear of. (Manon is not really a fan of the sportsball

She tries to send the girl away, but Asterin accepts Dorian’s number from the girl.

The intern isn’t foolish enough to try and relay this info to Dorian while the game is still going on, but when the game is over she informs him that Manon wasn’t particularly jazzed by his approach, but her cousin had accepted Dorian’s number.

Dorian gets dressed and goes out after the game (last game on a series and he decided he deserved to party a little, in-season or no)

A few hours in he gets a call from an restricted number. It’s Asterin Blackbeak informing him where they are.

Dorian hightailed it to the bar and begins laying the moves on Manon

They INEVITABLY go home together (it’s 💦 🔥 🍆 👅)

When he suggests they go to breakfast in the morning Manon is confused to the point of offended.

Is he expecting to get her in bed again? Because....not happening

Still, he convinces her to get breakfast.

And they are both rather shocked to find they actually...have shit in common?

So when Dorian asks for her number and to take her out on a proper date, Manon surprises herself by saying yes.

#feathery answers #in vino veritas asks #manorian #hockey player Dorian Havilliard #model Manon Blackbeak

73 notes · View notes

yonymii · 4 years

Text

secret garden

a/n: shoutout to my chamaedorea plant, Debrah 🤩 (also @gigis-galaxy for telling me to write for mattsun) his characterisation is wierd but whatever,, this took wayy too long to write sjkdjkdjks i think i change tenses at the end?? I liked it tho so i kept it

Wordcount: 4.4k

pairing: matsukawa issei x gn!reader

Warnings: cursing

Matsukawa didn’t notice you the first time he saw you. Of course, he’d seen you sat leaning against the wall scribbling notes onto your hand, but he hadn’t really noticed you, not enough to be able to describe your appearance. Like every other year, he’d just sat near his friends and started talking, completely missing your voice reverberating off of the plain white classroom walls, your laugh never reaching his ears. Your friends were always sat in front of you, blocking you from his field of vision, so it was no surprise when you two had been partnered up for a history project he’d had to ask who on earth y/n l/n was.

You hadn’t noticed him either, though. Matsukawa was one of those kids who joked around in class, throwing paper balls at their friends and drawing bad pictures of the teacher on scrap pieces of paper but was too discreet to ever get caught. You’d heard his voice but never bothered to turn around and learn whose it was, never scanned the classroom to take in and memorise the faces of your classmates. In your opinion, they were irrelevant unless you needed them for something.

Unfortunately, you needed Mattsun for this grade.

You waited for him to approach you, not moving from your seat, occasionally glancing over to see whether he was coming to sit beside you (on the table your friend had begrudgingly moved from). After what felt like hours, there was shuffling in that spot and you heard the chair legs scrape across the wood flooring, then a figure slump into the plastic seat. He looked over to you but you were already sending texts to your friends on the other side of the classroom, trying not to laugh so you wouldn’t be caught by the teacher. He thought you were quite attractive; not like Oikawa, though. Like you were unaware of your appearance, as if you didn’t spend too much time staring in the mirror worrying about how you look to others.

It was silly, really. That he was thinking so deeply into it when all you two had to do was study together and then produce a poster on World War One. It wasn’t difficult, except everytime you started speaking he felt obliged to look over at your face, your expressions. Mattsun desperately needed to focus, and you weren’t helping.

“Are you free to work on this over the weekend or do you want me to finish it?” he heard you ask as he was packing his bag on the Friday before your project was due. You two had mainly worked on it during his free lunches, seeing as all your clubs were on afterschool and not at lunch break. He turned to see you stood at the doorway of your empty classroom, tapping the end of your foot on the floorboards. He nodded, zipping up his backpack and meandering over to where you stood. “Yeah, you have my number, right? Text me your address and i’ll come over at twelve tomorrow,” he started walking off but looked over his shoulder at you, “If it’s okay with you, that is?”

You just agreed politely, joining your friends on the field at the back of campus. You could hear them talking, but you weren’t listening. You had your phone out but it was hidden under your blazer in case any teachers walked past and saw you; as you sent your address to Mattsun you couldn’t help but worry about the state of your room.

Not that it was messy. In fact, it was abnormally clean for a teenager. It was just… full. You had no idea how to tell your partner that you had no desks to work on because they were all occupied by your various houseplants your grandmother gave you? You sure as hell weren’t moving them just so that he could work.

Your room was a long rectangle, your bed positioned carefully so it fitted perfectly into the thin space by the window (which was occupied by a long pot of forget-me-nots), and you had two desks; one that was for plants all along and the other was now home to plants but was previously used for studying. You did most of your work sat in bed with a tray for stability nowadays.

“Hey y/n! The bell’s gone, we’ll see you Monday, m’kay?” your friend said as they tapped your shoulder and headed off. You just nodded, tucking your device into the inside pocket of your blazer and packing up your things ready for your next english class.

There were crescent moons of dirt underneath your fingernails and when you put the trowel down to sit back and bathe underneath the late afternoon sun you felt a presence behind you, their shadow above yours.

"Y/n?"

You pulled one of your airpods out, turning to gaze up at them. They were stood directly in the way of the sun, the skin on their arms illuminated with gold. You hummed in response, shifting onto your backside and exposing your mud and grass-stained knees. They chuckled and bent down to meet you; you shielded your eyes from the brightness of the sky.

"You're partnered with Mattsun for the history project, right?" Iwaizumi asked, his head tilting to the side. You nodded, fingertips digging into the soil beside you. There were a few younger students kneeling to weed the flowerbeds and vegetable patches beside yours, but they were silent. Iwaizumi lowered his voice, noticing the alck of noise in the area. There were crickets chirping quietly and the heat seared your skin. You wiped your forehead with the back of your wrist.

"Yeah, why?" your cousin smiled, standing back up as he noticed your eagerness to get back to work.

"He's skipping practice some lunches and won't tell anyone what he's doing. It's driving Shittykawa mad." you laughed at the nickname but still smacked his leg. "Don't call your best friend names, Hajime! And yeah. It'll be done by the weekend so don't worry, m'kay?"

The brunette nodded, turning away from you and starting to leave, waving lazily at you while still turned. You shouted goodbye as he walked off, spinning round to face the bed of flowers and positioning yourself onto your knees comfortably.

Your doorbell was broken when Matsukawa tried ringing it. He marveled at the vast number of window boxes filled with vibrant flowers (which he couldn't name), knocking three times on the wooden door. It was mid afternoon, the sun was hidden behind a few clouds and when you opened the door and invited him inside there were no lights on, only open curtains and white walls and carpets to brighten the rooms.

"Where are we going?" he asked when you led him to the back door and opened it, ushering him outside. It was a large green lawn, surrounded by tall bushes and beds of flowers. There was a small allotment behind a wooden fence and grey brick wall and he saw a tall wooden structure supporting a plethora of different vegetables, along with all different shades of sweet pea blossoms. In short, your garden was something out of a children's story book.

By the time the pair of you were sat on the blanket underneath an old looking tree, the sun had come out and was lighting the area. There was a stack of textbooks by the roots and you handed him a few which he opened to the bookmarked pages. Mattsun had been the one to keep hold of your poster so he set it down on a tray in the centre of the blanket, along with his stationary.

"What do you want to focus on for the last segment?" you broke the silence with a question which he was quick to respond to.

"Uhm, the causes? Of the war?" you nodded in agreement and opened a textbook. Mattsun cleared his throat and spoke again.

"Whose garden is this? I mean, uhh, who like, takes care of it?"

You had to hold back a laugh at his nervous tone, suppressing your grin when you explained that it was, in fact, your garden, and you lived mostly alone.

He just nodded, avoiding any eye contact.

"It was my grandmother's but i look after it now." Mattsun nodded again, ruling a line along the bottom of your poster to mark off the last section. "It's really nice," he said, looking up at you. You slipped your shoes off, tucking your feet under your legs and meeting his eyes.

"You must enjoy it."

A smile adorned your lips and you hummed in agreement, outlining the title of your poster (causes of World War One) and explaining your hobby to your partner. Honestly, you knew he probably didn't care, but he would listen, even if it wasn't particularly interesting to him.

"When i was younger i lived with my grandparents and sometimes my dad. He's away on business most of the time though. My grandmother used to bring me out and tell me about all of the plants, and after a while let me grow a few myself. When she passed i took over the garden," you giggled as soom is the sun appeared from behind the clouds and lit up your face, " It looks the same as it always did though. I haven't changed it much."

Although you'd assumed Matsukawa wasn't listening, he hadn't transferred any of your notes onto the large sheet of paper. He was laying on his back staring up at the sky through the leaves of the large oak tree and there were little dots of sunlight decorating his skin and hair. His eyelashes were fluttering against his cheeks; he was stunning in a way you'd never noticed before. You probably wouldn't have been able to see him this way if you'd have only been with him at school, volleyball practice or at games. It was different, but not in a bad way. You didn't know Matsukawa Issei, but you wanted to.

Clearing your throat to gain his attention (which you had anyway), and looked over at him once again, only to see his eyes on you, cheeks flushed a little as he gazed at your face under the shade of the tree. "We should really get this done, Matsukawa. It's been an hour and a half already."

He agreed, sitting up and resting his soft cheek on the palm of his hand, picking up a pen and copying out your notes in neat while you cut out pictures to accompany the writing.

Three sharp knocks at your front door woke you up from the light nap you’d been taking on the sofa laying next to your dad who’d come home for the weekend. You watched sleepily as he stood up to answer whoever it was, expecting a delivery or the friendly postman who was also your neighbor.

It was Matsukawa.

“Y/n!- Oh, uhm, hello, sir.” he said, looking down at his shoes and fiddling with his fingers. After the project you’d turned in the pair of you had become good friends and you now often sat with the volleyball team at lunches, visiting them after school during practice and going to watch practice matches. You’d done this every once in a while because of Iwaizumi but it had become significantly more frequent over the last few months.

“Why do you need y/n?” your dad asked Issei, crossing his arms protectively and leaning all his weight onto one leg. The boy who’d come over to see you just smiled up at him as you peeked out from behind the doorway and waved, pushing your dad to the side gently to allow him over the threshold and towards the door leading to your garden.

“He’s a friend, dad. I told you why i got all that food ready this morning, right?” The sun was setting on the horizon as you took Mattsun’s bag and ran up the stairs to your room, putting it by your desk and running back down to meet your friend on the lawn.

He sat on the tyre swing that hung on the oak tree, his legs threaded through the hole as he swung gently in the evening breeze. “You didn’t tell him i was coming over?” Mattzun said, resting his chin on the rubber.

“I did! I just didn’t give him any specifics is all.” You collapsed onto the blanket that was spread out over the green blades, your head on a large grey pillow. There was a basket by your feet full of cakes and drinks, and you had a speaker resting in the hollow of the tree trunk. The stars were starting to appear in the sky and the moon was hanging low in the orange glow near the rooftops, their silhouette bold against the slowly darkening backdrop. It was beautiful, and with the silence between you two you didn’t notice Mattsun crawling towards you to lay down on your stomach, a can of cola held loosely between both of his hands. He tapped his short nails against it as he looked up at the sky, his delicately carved face illuminated in the fiery sunset.

"You ok, Mattsun? You're being quiet, it's scaring me," you said, looking down at him as he breathed gently, chest rising and falling slowly as his lungs filled with air. You felt him nod against your stomach, hair sticking slightly to the fabric of your shirt. When he sat up to look at you, it was sticking out in weird directions; he looked like someone from a movie who'd been electrocuted. A giggle escaped your lips and he brushed a hand over the back of his locks, smoothing it down effectively.

He hummed when you pressed one fingertip to the tip of his nose and then the screen of your phone to play some music. Your dad shut off the upstairs and downstairs lights so now it was almost completely dark; the light of the full moon kissed Mattsun’s cheeks and made him glow, your heart stuttered and your breathing becoming laboured and heavy. The boy was laying down on his back on your blanket, chewing a biscuit and sitting up slightly to swallow it before laying down again. The stars blinked at your through the green leaves of the tree, and you leaned forwards to grab your cup that was filled with tea; the warmth radiating from it met your skin and sent a shiver all the way down your spine. You could hear your breathing fall into synchronization with his, your mind clearing and the only thing present in your thoughts was the boy laying beside you.

“Y/n, you never sit with us anymore. Just this lunch?” you shook your head at your friend (who you had indeed ditched for the Seijoh volleyball club a number of months ago), sighing loudly so that she heard you.

“Seriously, i don’t want to sit with you today, okay?” she just stared at you, face not showing any emotion, “I’ll sit with you guys when i feel like it. That isn’t right now.” and you ignored her pleads as you walked to the stairs where Makki was standing, one foot against the wall and his hands shoved into the pockets of his blazer. His bag was leaning against the surface and one of his shoes was sticking out of the side because the bag as too full. When he saw you he picked it up, slinging it over his shoulder and not speaking, just wandering lazily up the staircase and towards the rooftop where you assumed the rest of the third-year volleyball players would be.

The door was open; there were voices coming through the opening and you heard Mattsun’s laugh, your ears singling out the sound and blocking away everything else.

Your bag dropped to the ground next to Iwaizumi, sitting on the concrete and letting the wind brush across the bare skin of your arms, blazer discarded on your chair a few minutes away in your classroom. It was a nice day; the sun was overhead, your friend group situated in the shadow of the building. The sky was blue and there were fluffy white clouds floating past, but you payed no attention to them, instead choosing to listen to the conversation the third-years were currently having.

“So you’re skipping detention and sitting with us? For what?” Oikawa said, gazing at Mattsun lazily, the sun almost in his eyes but not quite. He shuffled to the left a bit so he could sit completely in the shade. “Won’t you just get afterschool tomorrow, Mattsun?”

The boy nodded, fluffy hair bouncing atop his head. His lips were set in a straight line and he opened his mouth to speak, bored expression sticking to his features almost comically, as if he were a doll that only had one emotion. You knew his face never reflected his feelings though.

“Yeah,” he gave no further explanation, just ripped a bit of bread from his lunch and pushed it past his lips into his mouth, chewing slowly and looking over to you. You smiled gently, taking a sip of the chocolate milk you’d picked up from the vending machine that morning but hadn’t had a chance to drink. “Why are you staring at me?” was what you decided to say to Issei after a few minutes, your eyes still locked with his. The corners of his mouth twitched up into a smirk and you sighed, cheeks puffing out.

“You’re so irritating sometimes, Mattsun. I swear Hajime’s the only responsible one here,” you looked over to your cousin, nudging his knee with yours and adding with a coy smile, “And me, of course.”

The brunette shook his head but didn’t bother to speak. “Y/n, you bring plants to school everyday.” Makki deadpanned, nodding his head towards your schoolbag. . You instinctively pulled it closer by one of the straps, crossing your legs so it was in between your thighs. “Not today, Makki. I didn’t bring anything but my work and lunch.”

Oikawa laughed, seemingly flying over to you and snatching up your bag. When he set it down there was a quiet clink, indicating there was, in fact, something inside. “Y/n seriously, you act as if they’re animals. Just leave them on your windowsill or something.” Makki stated as the captain unzipped your bag. You looked down in defeat when he pulled out a small terracotta plantpot with a tiny succulent in the middle. A burro’s tail, Mattsun thought. He recalled you showing him one when he was at yours after practice once.

The group snickered at the plant and you snatched it away, patting the soil to see if it was in need of water and pulling out your waterbottle to give it a bit. It clinked again when you set it down and Mattsun pulled your face up by the chin to see your expression just as you were about to give the plant a drink. You were pouting, he saw, and your eyebrows furrowed when he laughed at you, his lips curved into a beautiful smile as his voice escaped them.

That’s when you realised just how close his face was to yours. The volleyball team had gone quiet and were all watching you two but you didn’t think Issei had heard you, his forefinger hooked under your chin while his thumb brushed over the top. There was a lot more heat in your cheeks than before, you noticed and you’d dropped your bottle, spilling it over the pale concrete and staining it the colour of slate. Your ears picked up a snort from one of the boys and you tried to wiggle away from Mattsun’s grasp, shaking your head but he gripped your cheeks, squeezing them gently. “Stay there.” he ordered, voice low so the other’s probably couldn’t hear.

Issei leaned in closer, but to your surprise, his lips moved past your face and stopped at your ear, a snicker escaping. “You’re a dumbass, y/n.” was all he said but it surprised you and you yelped from the volume, your head banging against the wall. Your vision clouded and went dark, and when you woke up and raised your hand to the back of your head there was warm liquid over it. You didn’t know if it was blood or the water you’d spilt earlier, but when you saw all four of the third years crouched over you, you assumed it was blood. Iwaizumi pulled you up by your back and leant you against the wall, tapping your nose like he used to when you were kids.

“Mattsun, you fucking idiot! Shit like that can kill people!” you heard Makki’s voice and then saw Issei’s face above yours, worry filling his eyes. “Fuck, y/n, i didn’t mean to do that, i was trying to joke around,” he whispered, hand on your cheek. Oikawa pulled you up and wrapped your arm around his shoulder, his own slung across your back in case you were dizzy. He turned his head to face his teammates, “I’m taking them to the nurse’s office. Go to class without me,” the brunette informed them and when you stepped through the threshold of the office and collapsed onto the bed, Oikawa setting your bag down on the chair (along with your plant) the bell had rung and you saw the others pass by the office, glancing at you, Haijime waving as he passed.

You didn’t see Mattsun.

It wasn’t until the next weekend you saw Issei again. You were sat on the swing under the shade of the oak tree, swaying gently to the beat of some soft piano music after watering the dying rose bush when your dad called you out of the garden.

It took a few moments for you to recognise the boy sat on your sofa. Mattsun was holding a yellow plantpot in his hands delicately, tapping it with the edge of his too-long fingernails. He didn’t look at you when you sat down beside him but his cheeks puffed out and he set the pot down on your coffee table, your dad watching quietly from the kitchen with a cup of tea cradled in his hands.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.” was the only thing your friend said, after a long but comfortable silence. You nodded, hand on his thigh, “I know. I’m not mad though! Are you free now? We could go sit in the garden if you wanted to,” your voice grew quiet when the brunette looked up at you. He nodded, hair bouncing as he stood up and reached out a hand to help you up. You laced your fingers with his, smiling gratefully as he led you outside. You heard the kettle boiling and mugs clinking as your dad made two drinks for the pair of you.

It was still warm in your garden when you finished your picnic. The sun had started setting and the horizon was growing amber, the silhouettes of birds on telephone lines. The skin on your arms was golden from the light and Mattsun was laying next to you, his eyes closed so that his long eyelashes fluttered gently against his cheeks, long shadows extending across his skin.

Your fingers were tangled in his hair and you didn’t want to move them in case he woke up. Really, you had nothing to worry about. Issei wasn’t asleep, but you didn’t need to know that. The breeze fanned over your bare legs and the hairs stood on end. Maybe it was getting a little cold.

Issei opened his eyes when you shifted to move one of your blankets across your legs. He sat up and pulled it over his, shuffling closer to you. His lips were curved up into a delicate arc, tinted red from biting them constantly. His cheeks were flushed pink and his eyes were gazing over at your figure lazily, hooded and tired. You reached over to your bottle, opening it with a fizz. A little of the drink got onto your nose and Mattsun patted it away with the corner of his sleeve, his smile dropped and biting his lip in concentration.

“Mattsun?” he hummed, placing his hand over yours as you fiddled with the leaves of a hydrangea bush. “You look like you want to say something. What’s up?” your voice was very quiet, but he heard it just fine. The boy shook his head, curls ruffling against your shoulder.

“It’s nothing.”

You furrowed your brows but didn’t push any further, knowing that he’d deny it and eventually just leave if you kept asking. The hand that was resting on top of yours moved to your calf that was slung languidly across his thighs, his thumb rubbing circles into your warm skin. It was quiet, without any bird chirping in the background. You heard a car go past your garden; then silence.

His eyes shone when he looked over at you, and you didn’t know if it was the light from the house or if he was really just that beautiful, but it took the air out of your lungs all the same. The usual lazy smile danced on his lips and he pulled your head down and pressed the smile to your cheek, the feeling of his lips on your skin leaving a burning sensation; it felt good. The heat rose onto your face and it felt as if your whole body was on fire, all the way from the tips of your fingers to the top of your nose.

He was already looking away, though.

For Mattsun, this was enough; he didn’t know why his heart was pouding so hard it felt like his ribcage was going to crack open or why his eyes were trying to look anywhere but at you. And as much as he was scared, he liked it this way. If not telling you what he thought was happening to him meant that you could stay with him like this, he’d do it. He’d do anything.

The only thing stopping him was the feeling of your hand on his cheek and something heavy crawling into his lap; not until your lips met did he notice it was you who was so close to him. He saw the moon out of the corner of his eye, and the stars around it but nothing at that moment shone as brightly as you did. It was almost blinding, you were almost blinding.

Mattsun had never been very good with his words but he didn’t need them with you. You thought the look in his eyes when you both pulled away was enough to explain what he was thinking.

uhhh @reiningsun 👉👈 mayhaps?? KJBDKW im so embarrassed

92 notes · View notes

brandstifter-sys · 4 years

Text

Since I missed Remus’ birthday x_x please take this dukexiety mess as an apology

Dead?

Word Count: 1944

Pairings: Dukexiety (background royaliceit)

Rating: T

Warnings: death mention, intersex enby remus, sex mention, frog mention, spider mention, sibling rivalry

Virgil is just an ordinary necromancer with friends in high places. He goes off exploring on a quest to find a white stag and finds something, well someone, who looks like they’re sleeping in the middle of a tomb that’s been sealed off for a century. It’s one heck of a shock to accidentally raise the dead, if that’s the case, and even more of a shock because Remus is....themself.

Reblogs > Likes

There were legends and stories that circulated the kingdom, all of them fantastical and hard to believe. Most of the time there was some sort of inaccuracy in the legend, like the story of the princess cursed to sleep for a hundred years with her whole kingdom, only to be woken by true love’s kiss. She woke up after a hundred years and went ballistic, screaming at her father for not inviting the thirteenth fairy to her first birthday party, but that was ages ago, and like her parents, she angered the fae as well. Her two children were hit with a similar curse, but unlike her, her children would sleep for eternity until their true loves came. She never told them.

The legend got marred over time, so that people only remembered one of the children. No one believed that legend until recently, when Prince Janus, recently married to the man who he saved from his own curse, found the old tower and investigated. He found Prince Roman and woke him, not giving details on how he did it. It was fine because Janus and his husband, Patton, were madly in love and madly in love with Roman. Too bad Roman didn’t mention that he wasn’t the only one cursed in that tower.

...

It was a rather overcast day when Prince Patton suggested his oldest friend go investigate reports of a white stag in the forest. If change was afoot, Virgil would be the first to tell if it was a blessing or a curse. Virgil reluctantly agreed, if only because Patton made puppy-dog eyes at him. Those puppy-dog eyes were going to kill him someday, and he was the only person he couldn’t resurrect. The things he did for his friends.

That’s what led him deep into the woods, beyond where most people dared to tread. He hated the looming feeling of foreboding nipping at his heels, the way the wind whispered his name. But he kept going, always glancing back, and always moving on when there was no threat. He only considered turning back when he found the tower where Roman was sleeping before. There was no reason to go beyond the boundary of the kingdom, especially with a crumbling ruin in the way.

The door was still open, hanging on its hinges, just as Janus left it. Virgil neared it, just to see what level of stupid Janus reached when he found the tower. But something caught his eye. There was a trap door at the foot of the spiral stairs. Something about it called to the nervous necromancer, and he couldn’t fight the urge to investigate.

Virgil coughed when he opened the door and a cloud of dust hit him in the face. Covering his nose with his cloak, he descended the stairway he revealed, using the magic gem on his walking staff to light his way.

The walls were lined with bones, artfully placed to scare the average person away. Virgil worked with death, it was more of a comfort to be surrounded by it, even if he accidentally reanimated a few bodies when he was startled. If this detour didn’t reveal something new and useful, it would still be fun to tell Prince Roman that he was asleep over a tomb for however long he was there. He would probably cringe at that information.

Something was certainly there, a door that looked ancient with dark hinges and an even darker stain. It radiated magic, making Virgil’s hair stand on end. He could handle a few zombies if he had to, so he flipped his bangs out of his face and pressed forward.

He opened the heavy door with some effort and stepped inside. The room was simple stone with old green tapestries and a stone slab in the center. The green curtains around it were drawn, displaying a body that showed no signs of decay. The person looked like Roman, but they had a mustache and longer hair. Virgil stared at them, wondering what kind of magic kept a dead person so well-preserved. They had to be dead, Roman was trapped for over a century, sure, but he had some kind of air flow at the top of the tower. This person, they didn’t, and they weren’t breathing or twitching like a normal sleeping person. Virgil was confused.

BAM!

“Holy shit!” Virgil yelped and spun around when the door slammed shut. He hastily tried to open it and breathed a sigh of relief when it moved.

“Ack! What the hell!?” a voice yelped from behind him. Virgil’s heart stopped. Not again. He turned around to see the person, sitting upright, glancing around the room. Their eyes landed on Virgil, and a smile crossed their confused features.

“Hi! You wouldn’t happen to know where we are, would you?” they asked with way too much enthusiasm.

“We’re in a crypt under a cursed tower,” Virgil answered slowly, gripping his staff tightly, “and I accidentally disturbed your resting place.”

“I was dead!?” they gawked, “And I don’t have any maggots to show for it!?”

“Yeah I thought that was weird too. But it’s probably been over a hundred years for you so I’m gonna go ahead and put you down again.”

“Aw, do you have to? You’re the first person to talk to me since my brother before he got cursed! And he yelled at me for putting a frog in his shirt! Can I stay undead just a little while?” they pleaded and fluttered their lashes. Virgil blinked twice as their words hit him.

“Who are you?”

“Me? Well I’m Princex Remus! Second in line for the throne! Who are you?”

“I’m Virgil, a necromancer, but you probably figured that out already. You said your brother was cursed.”

“Oh yeah, him,” Remus pouted, “He turned 18 and then he went into a major coma. Mom said it was her fault and we had to keep him safe. Let’s not talk about him, I’d rather know about you, VeeVee.”

“I hate that nickname,” Virgil deadpanned.

"Virgilicious?"

"I'm not responding to that."

“Scare Bear?”

“Sure,” Virgil huffed, expecting the list to go on if he didn’t stop it there and then.

“Okay, Scare Bear! So what is a snack like you doing in a place like this?”

“I was on a mission for the three princes–Patton, Janus, and Roman–and then I stumbled across this place and got curious.”

“Roman!? He woke up!? Okay you gotta take me to him right now! I’ll come back and stay dead but I gotta see him! I owe him a century’s worth of ramblings!”

“I don’t have much of a choice do I?”

“Nope! He got cursed and passed out and wouldn’t get up until his true love woke him! I set him in the tower and came down here to relax with the decomposed after that workout!”

“And then?”

“That’s the last thing I remember! That guy had some nerve getting cursed at the bottom of the stairs, I might be strong and nimble but mommy’s favorite is as heavy as he is whiny!”

“Shit," Virgil grumbled as he tried to put the pieces together, "Let me try something." Remus watched him expectantly. The gem in his staff glowed a bright purple, as did his eyes. Remus couldn't understand the words slipping from his lips but that double voice was doing something for them. He was trying to put Remus back. It wasn’t working!

“That was cool! Can you magic me a pair of big ol honkers?” Remus cheered and clapped their hands. Virgil’s shoulders sagged and his face fell, his eyes losing the purple glow.

“I’m a necromancer, I can only raise the dead.”

“And my dick!”

“Right, yeah, okay, point is you’re not dead, you were asleep for a century.”

“Just like Ro-hoe?! Then that means—”

“Oh no,” Virgil groaned. He did not sign up for this. He was too aro for this. Remus was cute and hyper but he wasn’t sure how they’d handle a full on rejection. It could get ugly.

“Oh yes!” Remus giggled, “It was the same curse, you woke me up, you’re my true love! This calls for a celebration! No one should love me so it’s a huge deal!”

“Wait, what?”

“We should definitely make out!”

“You have near-death breath, and more self-hatred issues than me. I'll pass."

"Self-hatred issues? Me!? No! I just don't do that romance shit and I was born in between! That's why I didn't think I would be cursed like Prince No-Bone! But I was and you woke me! We’re gonna be bestest friends! With benefits!”

“I know Roman, if you’re like him, there’s no benefits whatsoever.”

“Ha! I like you! We’re gonna be besties! Let’s go so I can show off that I got a hot soulmate and make Ro jealous!” Remus cheered and jumped to their feet full of life and running on sibling spite.

“Don’t. Just tell him I raised your corpse. He’ll shit himself," Virgil countered and leaned on his staff with a dastardly smirk. Remus had never had someone come up with something else to torment the precious firstborn. It was too good to be true.

“I’m starting to think I did die and went to heaven,” Remus mumbled. Virgil shook his head and stood up.

"Sorry to disappoint but if I'm here it's hell."

"You are selling me on this whole soulmate business! C'mon let's go get some embalming fluid and really sell it! And some frogs! Ooh maybe there’ll be some mama frogs out there with their eggs in their backs! Trypophobia and even more frogs! Roman’ll shit a brick."

“The frogs aren’t gonna cut it this time. He’s got two husbands, and one of them was a frog for most of his life.”

“No frogs?” Remus pouted.

“If you can give up the green, salamanders would work,” Virgil shrugged and pushed the door open with just as much effort as when he opened it. He didn’t catch the bright grin that crossed Remus’ face, but the body slam to his back when he got that damn door open, he didn’t miss that!

“You’re right! Or maybe I could use worms! Or spiders!”

“Just don’t touch mine. Gigi just finished molting,” Virgil grunted and balanced himself.

“You have spiders! Ooh! You have to show me! Spiders are so cute!”

“Don’t eat them.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, that would be awful!” they laughed, then purred “But if you wanna give me something better to eat---” Virgil jolted and stumbled back when the frisky little whirlwind grabbed his butt.

“Give me a good enough reason once we’re out of here, and I’ll consider it,” he huffed and led Remus to the stairway.

“Really?”

“Yeah, if you can convince me. But don’t hold your breath.”

“You know if I die and you want some action all you have to do is bring me back! You look like you’d enjoy some zombie fun, and I’m just a rotten kind of cute when I don’t get startled awake!”

“Don’t you have some sibling scheming to do?”

“Yeah, and I have to get back to arting and training and pranks and making people uncomfortable with my existence, that last one is my specialty!”

“Then let’s go. You need to get started on all those things soon.”

“I’m not making you uncomfortable?”

“I know, I’m just as surprised as you are. Maybe it is that soulmate bs,” he teased and led Remus into the world again. Maybe the soulmate thing wasn’t bs, and maybe it was the best day of either of their lives, they just hadn’t realized it yet.

#sanders sides #remus sanders #virgil sanders #dukexiety #royaliceit mention #roceit mention #moceit mention #royality mention #sex mention tw #death mention tw #frog mention tw #spider mention tw #sandyscribed

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thechangeling · 4 years

Text

The Fall

This is a one shot I wrote about my OC Gianna Blackthorn-Rosales, one of Kierarktina's kids. Full disclosure, I don't have bipolar, but I do suffer from depression and I did some research to fill in the blanks. Thank you to Halima and Ellie from helping me with the Spanish.

Tw for Depression and suicidal thoughts.

When Gianna woke up, she felt as though she was under water. Her limbs were heavy as if they were weighted down with led. Her alarm was blaring from her phone with zero sympathy. Gianna groaned and fumbled around for her phone to turn it off.

Shit. She felt like absolute garbage. Everything hurt. Everything felt hallow and empty like a great big hole had been carved out of her chest. Mornings were never fun, but today especially sucked. The idea of moving to get up, or even keeping her eyes open felt like absolute torture.

Gigi had recently come down from a manic episode and now she was sinking, unable to stay afloat. Not that she even really wanted to. Not right now at least.

That's when she remembered. Today was test day. Of fucking course. Testing day was when every shadowhunter under 18 had to undergo a series of skill tests, with weapons and also hand to hand combat. They were given scores based on how well they did and then those scores then were sent back to the Clave.

Of course it had to be today of all days. That was the problem with mental illness. It didn't care if you had a schedule to keep or things you needed to do. It just bulldozed it's way through your life, screwing everything up and then leaving you to clean up the mess.

Gianna grabbed her phone and typed out a quick message to her brother Nico.

I'm sick today, tell mama I can't do it.

Her therapist would tell her that avoidance wasn't healthy, but she would argue that sleeping right now was definitely the best thing for her. Unfortunately in fights such as these, the professionals usually won.

Gianna felt guilt and shame start to trickle in, greeting her like old friends. You're pathetic. You're a pitiful excuse for a shadowhunter. That's what everyone else is thinking and they're right. You're worthless. Everyone would be better of if you were gone.

Her phone vibrated next to her with a text from Nico. Gianna picked it up, already knowing what it would say.

Shadowhunters don't get sick. No one will buy it. Come on Gigi you need to try. He wrote.

Gianna fought the urge to scream. Try? Like she wasn't trying? Did they all think she was pulling this crap on purpose for shits and giggles? She was really getting sick of most people.

She was sick of her parents, sick of her siblings, sick of her cousins Ellie and Anthony even though they didn't get to see each other very often.

She was even sick of Anabla. Which made Gianna very scared. She loved her girlfriend but sometimes everything just became too overwhelming. Her father was always busy running his kingdom and whenever she went to Unseelie, many people always made it very clear that she was not welcome. Her father didn't even really understand how mental illness worked, but then again neither did her mama and papa.

Shadowhunters weren't supposed to be sick and neither were faeries.

Suddenly there was a banging on her door. "Gianna!" She heard her mother's voice on the other side of the door "¿Qué esta pasando?"

Gianna shut her eyes. Maybe if she pretended to be asleep her mama would leave her alone. It was unlikely but still. Her mother pounded on the door again. "Alleya!" She shouted angrily.

Well fuck. That was never good. As soon as her mother used Gianna's fae name, it meant that she was in big trouble.

"Ok yeah I'm coming!" She yelled back. Gianna took a deep breath and pulled herself to her feet.

I can do this. She thought to herself. It's gonna be ok. Just get though this then you can go back to bed.

She put on her gear and began to braid her hair into a faerie style. It was a personal tradition of Gianna's, to braid her hair like a faerie and pull it back so that her pointy ears were exposed whenever she had an offical shadowhunter event of some kind.

Outside she could hear the sounds of Shadowhunters arriving at The New York Institute by portal. Gianna and her family had slept over at the institute so they wouldn't have to travel. She could instantly hear the cheerful loud voices of her cousins, as well as her aunts and uncles greeting each other.

One big happy family.

Gianna could feel the aches in her muscles as if she was sore from a good work out. Getting through testing would be absolute hell.

But she would do it. She grabbed her bow from it's hook on her bedroom wall as well as her quiver of arrows, and marched outside to meet her fate.

The wave of liveliness hit Gianna like a truck. There were older shadowhunters gossiping and catching up with one another, while teenagers and kids of all ages darted excitedly around each other gathering their weapons and gear. She noticed her mama and papa talking with her tías, Helen and Aline. Nico was being bombarded by hugs from their tìo Jules and tìa Emma. Even though they were all on her papa's side of the family, her mama had no siblings. In fact she didnt have any family she was in constant contact with since they were all in Mexico. So at her mama's request, Gianna called all of her papa's siblings tía or tío as a way to keep her connected to her culture.

As for her father's side of the family, it was basically just a long string of "these people want me dead", so nobody was getting any names of any kind.

Then there was Kit and Ty, who Gianna called by their first names because they were so close. She had always felt better connected to them for some reason.

Speaking of.

She spotted them over by the corner if the room. Ty had his headphones on and Kit was hugging-

Oh great.

She was here.

Mina freaking Carstairs.

Wonderful.

Which begged the question, what was she doing here exactly? She was 18. She was supposed to be done with these sorts of tests.

Gianna watched as perfect Mina rushed over to great a screaming Ellie, who was her Parabatai, and Anthony and that was when it dawned on her. Right. Of course.

Mina had come to watch them.

The perfect supportive friend and Parabatai. Always smiling. Always ever so sweet and polite.

Yeah Gianna really wasn't a fan.

Nico would tell her that she was being irrational, and she probably was. But Mina Carstairs had always looked down on her with that familiar expression of pity and disgust.

It might have had something to do with the time Gianna had tried to steal Church during one of her manic episodes. Or the time when she woke Mina and Ellie up by blasting heavy metal at three in the morning while making brownies at the LA institute.

In her defense, she couldn't sleep.

Gianna knew lots of people always assumed she was doing these things on purpose. Like she was purposefully trying to sabotage everything in her life. That was probably one of the most irritating things about having a mental illness, being blamed for the things that you had no control over.

Being held to neurotypical standards was also shitty.

"You look like you're about keel over and die on us" said a voice at her shoulder.

Gianna whipped around and breathed a sigh of relief.

Magnus.

Gianna couldn't quite managed a smile, but she instantly flung her arms around him in a hug which he returned.

"Hey there little shadowfae" he cooed. It was the nickname he had for her ever since she was a kid. "Are you taking your meds?" He asked her with his head still resting on her shoulder.

Gianna groaned, lightly pushing him away. "Why can't you just greet me like a normal person? What ever happened to, "How are you?" Or, "What great weather we've been having lately!" She rolled her eyes.

Magnus looked sympathetic as he placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "I'm sorry Gigi. I'm just worried about you." He said softly.

Magnys was essentially the one who had jumpstarted her treatment, the same way he did with Thaís. He contacted Caterina, who contacted a doctor with the sight to get Gianna diagnosed, on medication and into counseling.

Her therapist was actually half Unseelie, half mundane. She was fairly sweet, and she and Gianna got along pretty well. It could have been a lot worse.

Gianna nodded, "Yeah I know. I am." She protested.

That was mostly true, although there was one week when she had gone to Unseelie to visit Anabla and forgotten to bring her meds with her. She was paying for that now.

"Everyone! Could I have your attention please!" They were interrupted by the voice of the consul. Alec Lightwood-Bane was standing in the middle of the room. Several members of the council were standing with him. "We will begin testing in five minutes! If all of the perticipents could please make their way down to the institute's training room. Thank you."

Magnus caught Alec's eye and smiled at him from across the room. He then sighed and squeezed Gianna's shoulder again. "Well. I should go join my husband" he said matter of factly. "Good luck little one."

Gianna managed a small smile. "Thanks Mags."

Gianna stood in place for awhile, willing herself to move. People passed by around her like waves moving around a bolder. No one played her a second glance, not her cousins, and certainly not Mina Carstairs. Her parents were probably busy with Nico.

The living room filtered out and then she was alone. Standing in the middle of the room with a bow in her hand.

See. The voice told her. You're all alone. You're always alone. No one really cares about you.

She tried to protest, tried to fight it but she was just too tired. And there was that old familiar feeling again. A feeling beyond exhaustion, beyond despair, and beyond hopelessness.

Inevitability.

The feeling that at the end of the day this is all that you are, and all you ever will be.

And there's nothing that can change that.

#tsc #tda #twp #kierarktina #kierarktina children #my oc #kaitlin'swriting

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nightingiall · 4 years

Note

hey jess hope you've been keeping well! ❤️ just wondering if you'll ever do a niall pov of part vi of hitc when they were at the party bc i'd really like to know what went on in his head throughout the myriad of events that happened :)

story page // wattpad

The first person Niall sees as he walks through the door is a tipsy-looking Harry Styles.

“Niall, mate!” he exclaims as he sees him, voice loud over the raucous music, hair a mess of slightly damp curls as he sends Niall a lopsided grin. “Take a shot with me!”

And, well, how can he say no to free liquor? Especially when it’s the expensive kind that goes down easy and smooth, spreading a slinky sort of heat through his tummy when it settles in him.

The Shack parties are probably his favorite parts of working at Hightstown, with great alcohol and interesting people all in the same place. Today, though, he doesn’t care for either of those things, eyes instead searching for a beautiful girl who he could not, for the life of him, stop thinking about. He could not stop thinking of curious, vulnerable brown eyes and a smile that made all the work to crack it worth the effort. He sees her everywhere, all the time—in his dreams and curled in odd corners of his flat with Spike and in everyone at this party—heart sinking when the ghost of her disappears into his imagination.

If he makes his disappointment obvious at the absence of Rory Bhatt, then Harry doesn’t seem to notice, instead yammering on about Leslie or Gigi or—well, Niall doesn’t know, he’s not paying attention. He’s saved from being outed as a terrible listener by Alejandra, who makes her way over to them to ask if they want to play drunk Jenga. Harry declines but Niall allows Alejandra to drag him to the makeshift gameroom, if only for a distraction. At least if he’s immersed in a party game he won’t be thinking about a certain brown-eyed beauty all the time.

It works, but only for a few moments.

Niall is invested in the game for a while, his competitive side rearing its head for the first few rounds. But once it’s clear that Leslie is going to be the clear champ, her alcohol tolerance putting all of theirs to shame, he simmers down a bit, instead joking around with Callie and stealthily pouring excess beer into Shane’s cup with Alejandra when he’s not paying attention. Sure, it’s a distraction, but with the cloud of competition disappearing into wisps in his mind, he finds his eyes often wandering towards the door, searching, heart surging whenever he catches a glimpse of long, dark hair.

It’s never the person he’s looking for, though.

“Niall,” someone murmurs into his ear. It’s Callie. Cheeks flushed, eyes bleary, and stray hairs sticking up slightly in the humidity that’s leaked into the house, it’s clear that she’s well on her way to being tipsy. Perhaps she’s already there. Her hand is on his shoulder and she’s leaning in close to him. So close that he instinctively takes a step away. She doesn’t seem to notice. “Heard you almost beat Leslie at beer pong the other night. Everyone’s talking about it.”

He laughs but even to his ears it sounds a bit stiff, unnerved from how close she’s standing. “Yeah?” Beside him, Alejandra nudges him to take his turn, and he pokes at a block, releasing it easily from the tower. Take a whiskey shot, it reads. So he does. Deep brown, luscious, expensive whiskey. It’s clear that someone’s tapped into some rich person’s reserve to grab it. Distantly, he thinks that the color reminds him of Rory’s eyes.

“Yeah.” Callie’s still talking. “We take beer pong very serious around here.” She sends him a sweet smile, deep pink lips framing bleached-white, perfectly straight teeth. Callie is tipsy, and still no one can deny that she’s beautiful. Blue eyes, blonde hair, and clearly interested in him. Her hand lingers on his shoulder, her smile a second too long. She’s beautiful and interested, yes, but Niall’s mind is stuck on someone else.

He’s mid-laugh when he sees her. This time, it’s unmistakably her. Those eyes, hypnotizing, but for once, his gaze is pulled away from them because she’s smiling. At him. Big and bright and blinding and so beautiful that he nearly forgets there was a time that she made him work so hard to get one out of her. She’s smiling and she’s walking towards him and Niall feels any semblance of self-control slip away, slinking down his body and landing in his knees, which go impossibly weak whenever she’s around.

“Rors!” The nickname is leaving his mouth before he can even think about it. He distantly registers that it’s loud, impossibly so over the ruckus of the party, feels other people’s gazes on him as he finds himself moving towards her, bringing her in for a hug, a moth to her flame. But he doesn’t care. Clearly he’s never known subtlety when it comes to Rory Bhatt. “You made it.”

She smells like the color yellow. It’s something he first noticed about her. She had been standing near the pool and he was struck by the etherealness she exuded. Long, graceful limbs, the hem of her white dress catching in the breeze, flowing gently. She’d been wearing sunglasses but she took them off when he walked up to introduce himself. To this day he doesn’t know how he had the balls to do it. He thinks he smiled and held out his hand, but he can’t remember. He’d been too distracted by those big brown eyes. Guarded and questioning, catching the sunlight and sparkling.

A gust of air flitted past them and it carried her scent up to him, and it is this that he remembers most. Not the feeling of her hand or whatever she said to him. But that, the quick glitter in her eyes and her sunshine yellow scent. Sure, one cannot smell sunshine, but something Niall’s chemistry professor from college—back when he dabbled in the sciences—said one day stuck out to him in that moment, that at the center of our galaxy, in a cloud of dust and gas, scientists found a chemical responsible for the flavor of rum and raspberries, that space probably smelled like a fancy brunch, sweet and tart. The next day, when Niall and his friends went out and bought rum and raspberries and got drunk in the middle of the day on the floor of someone’s apartment, they joked that the place smelled like sunshine.

That was what Rory Bhatt smelled like.

He registers the scent now, as he presses his nose to her hair when she hugs him back. Sunshine and lemons and Rory. Niall tries not to come across as a freak and hopes to every power on earth that she doesn’t notice him taking in the way she smells, but he can’t help it. He’s not yet tipsy but he thinks he can get drunk off of this alone, the way Rory smells, the warmth of her body seeping into his, the way those brown eyes catch the light when she smiles up at him. It’s intoxicating. He’s so fucked.

Hopefully she doesn’t notice how completely out of his mind he is for her at the moment, but he doesn’t do much to help his case, mindlessly tangling their fingers together and dragging her towards the drunk jenga game. He thinks he banters with her and everyone else at the table but all he can really focus on is the fact that she squeezed his fingers when their hands were laced together. It’s stupid, of course, to hyperfixate on this one gesture. But the muscles in his hands replay the memory of her touch over and over again. The rest of him is just running on autopilot.

Alejandra draws a King’s Cup block from the tower and everyone cheers because at least they weren’t that unlucky. Niall can’t help himself when he bends into Rory, his hand on her waist. “Lucky we didn’t get that one, eh?” he says, but it’s just an excuse to catch a whiff of her scent again. It’s all great until she turns towards him and he realizes that he’s made a mistake. He’s leaned in too close. Her lips are mere inches from his. All of his nerve endings feel magnetized and they’re jumping around within him, craving a connection with her skin. He’ll kiss her if he doesn’t find some self-control. He knows he will. So he desperately forces words out of him so he won’t do something that will ruin this precarious balance they’ve managed to strike. “Don’t think you’d survive a King’s Cup anyway.”

It works. Rory wrinkles her nose at him as she swats a hand against his chest, rolling her eyes. And it’s so cute that he’s surprised his brain is still functioning from it all. “I can handle my alcohol, thank you very much,” she retorts with a little huff. “And besides, you’re the one who’s already had way more to drink than I have.”

She’s not wrong. He can feel it now, the steady thrum of alcohol bubbling through him. It’s making him reckless. He can’t afford to be reckless.

And still, he is. Callie topples over the jenga tower and Niall seizes this opportunity to tug Rory away. He’s been aching for a moment alone with her. It’s selfish, of course. Any time she gives him a minute of her time he wants more. Just earlier today they had all been goofing around in the pool and she’d swam up to him when he was taking in the sunset, and she jumped on his back to scare him. It’s hours later and he’s still wondering how on earth her scent still broke through the film of chlorine that had settled on both their skins.

They end up on the patio, and when Niall closes the sliding door behind them, shutting out the loudness emanating from within, he’s finally able to take her in. As they settle together on a lounger, he has every intention of telling her how he really feels.

I cannot stop thinking about you, do you know that?, he wants to say. It’s right there on the tip of his tongue and it nearly comes tumbling out before he catches the look on her face. It’s that concentrated expression she gets when she’s focusing hard on something, like when she’s perched on the lifeguard chair drawing or when she’s pouring out food for Spike in his bowl. She does that a lot, gets lost in her thoughts, daydreams. So he asks.

“What’re you thinking so hard about? You’re quieter than usual.” His voice is a whisper despite no one else being around. It’s just the two of them and the sounds of the night, crickets singing and leaves blowing together in the breeze.

He can see the exact moment she’s back with him, her eyes coming into focus. The slightest of pinks bloom high on her cheeks and Niall would bet anything that the skin there is surging with warmth. He’s not thinking when he reaches out, passing off the graze of his knuckles against her cheekbones for brushing away the hair that’s blown into her face. He’s right. Searing heat meets his skin. It sends jolts of electricity right through him. Rory lets out a quiet laugh, a lingering smile on her face as she glances down at their hands, which have somehow intertwined without his knowledge.

I’d move mountains for that laugh, he almost tells her. I’m so completely in love with your smile that I see it in my dreams.

For the life of him he can’t get his fingers to stop brushing her hair back. It’s a tantalizing softness against his skin. Reckless. He’s so busy watching the movement of her features that he nearly forgets that she hasn’t answered his question. She’s gone and gotten lost in her head again. This time, he’s the one who laughs. “Rory. Where are you, love? It’s like you’ve always got your head in the clouds.”

She’s full-on blushing now, her shoulders quirking up to her ears as though she wishes to hide it. Niall suddenly can’t remember what they’re even talking about. He’s reeling, the mere sight of a blush sending his mind into overdrive. Something else nearly spills from his lips. What can I do to make your cheeks go red like that again?

“Sorry,” Rory says, smiling wryly. “I guess I just daydream a lot.” Her eyes meet his again and suddenly, finally, he realizes that perhaps she wants to tell him something. There’s a sort of nervousness swirling in the dark brown that has anticipation building in his chest. He inadvertently leans forward, silently telling her he’s listening.

“It’s okay. It’s cute.” He all but blurts the words out and it’s all he can do not to smack his hand against his forehead. It’s a good thing he doesn’t, because it means that he’d have had to let go of her hand. And he’d have missed the color rising to the tops of her cheeks again. His heart surges in his chest. “Besides, I probably talk too much anyway.”

Rory is looking at him like she’s never looked at him before. It’s intense and all-consuming at the same time. She holds the entire world of secrets in those deep brown eyes and he’ll do anything to get her to open up to him. Tell me, his fingers say as they squeeze hers, because suddenly, this feels important. Suddenly, he’s thinking that maybe they’re on the same page after all.

She takes a breath. He’s hyperfocused on her. For a moment, the world falls away from them. The crickets stop singing. The wind is still. For a moment, it’s him, and her, and his beating heart, and her unspoken words. A moment. Rory opens her mouth. A moment. She’s finally speaking.

“I guess I was just trying to figure out how to tell you that I—”

A moment, broken.

The sliding door crashes open behind them, the crickets start chirping again, the light summer breeze is loud in Niall’s ears. His heart is a heavy thump, thump thump in his chest, so out of order that it feels like it’s jumping around inside of him, stopping only when it feels as though it’s lodged up in his throat.

A breath wooshes out of him as he turns to face the interference. His brain registers two things, both at the same time. One, it’s Shane and Zafar that are tumbling out of the door, laughing loudly about a fight happening inside. Two, his hands are cold, the skin trembling from the absence of Rory when she snatches hers away, startled by this interruption.

What was she going to tell him? Irritation crawls through him at their moment being shattered, but he forces himself to laugh along to the dramatic reenactment currently being performed by Shane and Zafar.

It all goes to shit from there. He’s sucked into the chaos of the boys. More people infiltrate the patio, the summer air now carrying the sounds of overlapping conversations when not only minutes ago it was a silent bubble for him and Rory.

She’s no longer sitting next to him when he glances over, instead pulled into her own conversation with her friends, and Niall has to work so hard not to let his frustration show. It’s not anyone’s fault, he tells himself, that the only reason he’s at this party was the chance that Rory would show up. It’s his own fault. Earlier, at the pool, he should’ve just invited her over to his place so they could lounge around with Spike and drink red wine, like they always did on their nights off.

Instead he’s here, silently simmering under the surface.

It’s happening before he even realizes what is happening.

Someone screeches, and it’s so loud that most people shift towards the sound, curious of the source. Niall turns around to realize it’s Callie. She’s holding up an empty wine bottle, face lit up like she’s had an idea. It’s only when Niall looks closely that he realizes she’s so drunk that she’s dangerously close to falling off her chair. “Let’s play spin the bottle!” she declares—or slurs, really.

Someone beside Niall grumbles. “What are we in middle school? We’re too old to be playing spin the bottle.” He laughs at that under his breath, because leave it to Gigi to be this blunt about her displeasure on something. Beside her, Niall spots Rory, her face closed-off and stoic, a stark contrast to the softness of her features earlier as she smiled at him. He frowns. All he wants is to be alone with her again.

Shane ends up initiating spin the bottle. He’s loud and cocky about it, not hiding his intention for the bottle to point at Alejandra, whom he’s openly had a crush on forever. This ignites everyone. Gigi and Zafar pipe in with some smack talk, a crowd has drawn up to watch the scene, and laughter swirls through the air as the moment draws on.

It backfires on Shane, of course. The bottle does not land at Alejandra, but at Harry, much to everyone’s amusement. Shane tries to back away, face bright red from embarrassment, but he’s teased relentlessly by the rest of them, and it’s only when Alejandra says something like, “Guys always want to watch the girls make out with each other in this game but never want to hold up their end of the bargain unless it’s convenient to them,” that they all egg him on harder until he has no choice but to cave and give Harry a peck on the cheek.

Niall laughs so hard at it all that tears spring to his eyes. He’s wiping them away when Rory catches his gaze. She’s grinning now, eyes glittering in amusement, and Niall just wants to capture the brightness of her face and save it in his pocket forever. A breeze floats by and sends her hair flying into soft wisps that frame her face and god he aches to reach out and tuck the strands behind her ear. Maybe he’ll just grab her after this and ask if she wants to get away from here, if she wants to head back to his. They can goof around with Spike and laugh about this on his couch. He can sit a safe distance away so he’s not tempted to kiss the smile right off her face.

He doesn’t get too far with that thought because Callie is piping up again, declaring that it’s her turn, clearly not understanding that it was all a joke and Shane was just taking the piss. His mind is still on big brown eyes when Callie spins the bottle, and he’s still trying to blink away the image of being alone with Rory when he realizes that the bottle has landed on him.

His heart is in his throat again. He’s sure that his apprehension is showing on his face but Callie doesn’t seem to care. She’s grinning wildly, clearly intending to do as the bottle decreed and kiss him, and he quickly tries to think of something to stop her, a nervous laugh leaving his lips as he says, “Uhh, Callie. I wasn’t actually playing.”

But she’s already standing in front of him. “You know the rules of the game, Niall,” she purrs, voice low, and Niall’s desperately looking around for help now. He tries to meet Rory’s eyes but she’s not looking at him. Callie’s leaning into him now and he doesn’t know why, for the life of him, he can’t get the word no out of his stupid mouth. “We’ve never made out before. It’ll be fun.”

It’s Gigi who speaks up for him, her voice edged with irritation. “Jesus, Callie, he said he’s not playing. What ever happened to consent around here?”

But it’s too late. Callie’s hands are on his shoulders and he tries to lean away from her, a hint for her to back off, but either she doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, because she continues to edge closer until the damn chair is stopping Niall from moving back any further and she’s too close to his face. Fuck, fuck, fuck, is all that’s going on in his mind because he’s too caught off guard to joke the situation off and he’s starting to think he’s going to have to physically move her off him to stop her.

There’s a moment where Niall feels like time stops and he’s able to quickly glance around at the faces surrounding him. There’s Callie of course, in front of him with her lips pulled up into a smirk, eyes half closed. There’s Harry a ways behind her, face contorted as he cringes. Beside Niall is Zafar, who appears to be amused and uncomfortable at the same time, as does Shane. On the other side is Gigi, who looks like she’s two seconds away from getting up and yanking Callie away herself, Alejandra, who is frowning, and Rory.

It’s when his eyes land on her that it’s like time speeds up again. He’s only able to catch those eyes, dark coffee brown, widened as she watches them, and then Callie is leaning close enough to obscure his view.

Two things happen then. Callie’s too close. She’s one second away from kissing him when Niall makes a split second decision to jolt away, turning his face and shifting slightly so that her lips never land anywhere on him. At the same time, Leslie, bless her heart, loudly bursts through the glass sliding doors, yelling about the beer pong tournament, and Niall, blissfully, is saved.

Callie is not happy. She makes an annoyed sound when she peels herself off him and Niall has to restrain himself from using the opportunity to put as much distance between them as possible by making a run for it. “We’re playing spin the bottle,” she grits out at Leslie, who, for her part, simply snorts.

“What? Why? Haven’t you all made out with each other already?” That breaks the tension. Everyone laughs and starts to head back inside for beer pong. Niall rises too, but his eyes are on Rory. As opposed to moments ago when she was watching him, now, she won’t meet his gaze. He feels something dense and heavy flood into him at the sight of Alejandra rubbing Rory’s shoulders; it settles at the pit of his stomach and weighs him down. Alejandra whispers something to her and Gigi as they get up too, but when they all pass each other, Rory pointedly ignores him.

Niall walks inside and tries to calm down but he really just wants to scream and flip over all the stupid beer pong tables. What just happened? Things had been looking promising. He and Rory had a moment alone, she was going to tell him something that seemed important, and then everything just spiraled out of control. Niall is kicking himself for not being able to outwardly tell Callie to back off, for not being able to reach for Rory and tell her that all he really wants is to get out of there and spend time with her.

But she’s engrossed in a conversation with her friends now and he’s pulled into beer pong. Leslie, the reigning beer pong champ for who knows how many summers, has already set everything up and picked out pairings, and Niall’s at a table with a bloke named Jayden. They’re familiar with one another so they make small talk as they begin but Niall can still feel the overwhelming irritation that’s lodged into his muscles. It’s making him dizzy with an annoyance that threatens to bubble into anger. He’s just landing the ball into one of Jayden’s cups when he spots Rory heading towards him.

His heart is in his throat again, and this time for a different reason. Rory’s got that look on her face once more, the intense, concentrated one. But when she notices him watching her it melts away, replaced with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She steps close to him, that sunshine scent of hers seemingly stronger now. With this and his residual embarrassment of earlier, Niall thinks he might go crazy. “Good luck,” she tells him, voice so low that it’s clear she only means for him to hear.

But she’s barely looking at him.

And she’s starting to walk away.

Shit. He scrambles for something to say to keep her here with him but comes up short, and in a moment of desperation, he reaches out to grab her wrist before she gets too far. Distantly, he registers a ping pong ball knocking lightly against his stomach from Jayden missing his shot. He doesn’t care. “Rory.” He hopes his voice doesn’t give away how frantic he is. He feels like he needs to explain even though he didn’t do anything. “The thing that just happened—”

And they’re being interrupted. Again. Niall is going to rip his hair out. He’s about to tell whoever it is to fuck off when he realizes that it’s someone he knows. Johnny Torres.

Niall lets go of Rory, fingers finding the ping pong ball instead. As he’s taking the shot, he hears Johnny say to Rory, “Haven’t seen you in a while, babe,” and his entire body goes so numb that he has no idea how he lands the ball in a cup. Jayden fishes it out and drinks, seemingly unbothered with whatever’s happening on Niall’s end, engrossed in a conversation with one of his own friends.

Every single one of Niall’s nerve endings are on edge. He doesn’t know what to do or say. All he can focus on is Johnny’s hand around Rory’s wrist and think about how he heard the two of them have—or had?—a fling or something of the sort. He’s suddenly insecure. Maybe he misunderstood the look in Rory’s eyes earlier. Maybe she doesn’t feel the same way as he does and was about to tell him so. Maybe he’s been too obvious this whole time and she’s uncomfortable with it.

Niall thinks he might hurl.

Johnny asks Rory if she wants to watch him play at another table and Rory starts to tell him that she’s in the middle of a conversation and Niall starts to panic. What is he even going to say to her?

“The thing that just happened…” That’s where he left off. How can he explain himself now? He might say too much. He might push her away. He can’t—he can’t think.

So he takes a deep breath and lands another shot. “It’s alright, Rors,” he hears himself say, interrupting her mid sentence as he turns and sends her a smile. He needs to let her go for the time being. There’s too much going on and it’s making him crazy and he needs time to just think. “I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?”

She’s whisked away by Johnny to an adjacent table and Niall has to tear his eyes away to keep from staring. Jayden lands a ball into one of Niall’s cups and he quickly takes the drink, desperate for some sort of distraction from the events of the past twenty minutes. The beer is cheap and watered down and it goes down easy, but it has no immediate effect on him. Which doesn’t help because his eyes flit over to where Rory and Johnny is and he’s met with the sight of Johnny brushing away that strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

Before he even realizes it, he’s tossing the ball so hard that it knocks over a cup on Jayden’s side, beer spilling everywhere. “I’m so sorry!” he gasps when Jayden yelps. “I definitely did not mean to do that.” Niall passes Jayden some paper towels for the table. Thankfully, no beer spilled onto his clothes.

“It’s all good,” Jayden says, wiping the table quickly and tossing out the now wet paper towels. He jerks his head towards Rory and Johnny, a knowing look in his glasses covered eyes. “Girl troubles?”

Niall glances over again only to see Johnny’s hand on the small of Rory’s back. He’s holding her so close that their faces are inches apart, and Niall has to avert his eyes to avoid seeing something he doesn’t want to see. “No, we’re just friends,” he says to Jayden, but heat is spreading through his body so fast that he’s sure he’s red all over. He’s startled by the furious wave of emotions that crashes through him. Never has he felt this way before, a spiderweb of feelings over someone who is not even his. And he doesn’t like it.

Jayden sends him a perceptive smirk, clearly noticing the flush on Niall’s face, and Niall grabs another cup to drink from even though Jayden hasn’t even tossed the ball yet. “Doesn’t look that way,” he shrugs, clearly amused. “You keep looking over at her with this sad look on your face.”

Niall is shocked by this assessment, not having considered that sadness may be a facet of his tangled emotions. He’s upset, sure. But he has to remind himself that he and Rory are just friends and he respects that. Wanted that, even. He’d love for their relationship to be something more, but the summer is almost ending, and he would never want to be someone who hurts her because of any uncertainty that will come when it does.

Jayden takes a shot and misses. “Don’t know if this helps,” he says nonchalantly, “but she keeps looking at you too.”

Niall doesn’t know why but this is what makes him smile, even if it may mean nothing, even if it could be wishful thinking on his part that he is on Rory’s mind just like she is on his.

Niall ends up winning that round of beer pong. He and Jayden part with a handshake and a few laughs, with Jayden giving Niall extra details about the fight that happened earlier. Finally, Niall is at ease. He doesn’t know what had gotten into him earlier but he doesn’t like that version of himself and resolves to keep his head down to avoid running into anymore mishaps.

Apparently that isn’t possible. Because for the next round, he’s paired with none other than Johnny Torres. Niall sighs to himself because Johnny’s actually a really cool guy. Even if Johnny and Rory were a thing, it shouldn’t get Niall all riled up. After all, Rory has warmed up to him enough to call him a friend, a far cry from the beginning of the summer when she was guarded and distant towards him, and that was all he ever wanted anyway. To be her friend and make her smile.

He and Johnny shake hands, wish each other good luck, and get started. Niall’s about to take his shot when something catches his eye. It’s Rory, of course. She’s standing on the other side of the room and she’s looking right at him. Their eyes connect and she smiles at him. It’s soft and beautiful and his skin is overheating again but it’s for a different reason now. She sends him a thumbs-up and a silent look that tells him good luck, and something else too, but he can’t quite figure out what.

Niall smiles back at her, the world falling away for a moment before he remembers he’s supposed to be playing a game. When he tosses the ball, it lands directly into a cup that’s notoriously difficult to land. Cheers erupt around him. It’s clear that the rest of the partygoers are now invested in this tournament and have chosen favorites. Niall doesn’t care, though. Because when his eyes search for Rory again, he finds that she’s still watching him. He’s so thrilled by this that he sends her a playful wink. Her smile grows and he feels his heart give an excited flutter.

“Ohhh,” Johnny is drawing out, drinking from the cup Niall landed the ball in. “I get it now.”

Niall quirks a brow at him, the beginnings of a laugh in his throat. “Get what?”

Johnny smirks. “You and Rory. You’re into each other. That’s why she was being all weird when I interrupted you two.”

Niall is blushing again and he wishes he’d stop doing that. Weird things happen to him whenever Rory is the topic of conversation and everyone else always picks up on it. “We’re just friends.”

This time, Johnny laughs. He takes a shot and lands it in an outer cup. “Yeah. Sure you are.”

Niall gulps down his beer. “What does that mean?”

Johnny shrugs, the look in his eyes mirroring the one Niall saw in Jayden’s, knowing and slightly amused. “The way you guys just looked at each other? Looked like a bit more than friendship to me.” Niall somehow lands another shot and Johnny fishes the ball out to drink from the cup. “But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

For some reason, this is what breaks the wall of tension between them and they both start laughing. “Okay, fine,” Niall says. Johnny tosses the ball and misses. “I like her.”

“Then you should tell her.” Johnny sounds so matter-of-fact that Niall nearly agrees with him. He stops himself, instead landing the ball into another one of Johnny’s cups.

“I dunno.” Niall is the one shrugging this time. “I don’t want to ruin anything. It took basically the entire summer for us to even become friends.”

Johnny laughs. There’s a bigger crowd drawing around them now. “For what it’s worth,” he starts, keeping it vague just in case they had eavesdroppers, “I seriously doubt that being honest about your feelings will ruin anything. I know her. And I think if you tell her, you won’t be disappointed by her reaction.”

There are too many people around to continue this conversation now so they steer towards a different topic, but Niall can’t help but let Johnny’s words wash over him. He runs the risk of compromising this friendship he’s managed to cultivate with Rory, but what if she does feel the same way? Should he tell her?

He mulls this over for the rest of the night. Even when he wins against Johnny Torres. Even when he continues to play against Leslie. Even when he ends up winning the whole tournament and the house is erupting with cheers of his name, he’s only thinking of Rory.

So when he turns around when it’s all over and spots her there, looking at him, smiling, he smiles too. I like you a lot, Rory Bhatt, he thinks he might say to her. It almost feels right. Because she’s watching him, eyes glittering, like he’s the only person in the room. It’s like they’re magnetically attracted to one another. People are clapping him on the back, congratulating him on dethroning the reigning beer pong champ, but his feet continue pulling him towards Rory.

She looks beautiful. There’s a glow on her face, that strand of hair falling over her forehead, and she’s smiling at him so widely that it makes his knees weak. He’s close enough now to see a soft pink flush on her cheeks and he so badly wants to press his hands to it, to pull her close, to maybe kiss her, taste her lips, which are slightly red and shining with lip gloss.

Maybe he’s had too much to drink.

Anyway, he’s not able to get close enough to do anything because Callie’s stepping in front of him, throwing her arms around him in a hug and screaming about his win. He’s taken aback by her presence but tries to play it off, hugging her back. “Let’s celebrate later,” she says. She’s clearly still drunk because she tries to wink at him but both of her eyes go all weird. “You know where to find me.”

She’s off after that, wobbling away, and he doesn’t care enough to watch her go because Rory is thankfully still standing there.

“Hey,” he says to her, closing the distance between them in three steps. She’s still clinging to that sunshine scent but she smells a bit like whiskey too.

She had been looking at Callie but when she turns to him at the sound of his voice, she smiles. “Hi.” Her cheeks are even pinker up close and she’s grinning at him and he nearly blurts out how cute he thinks she is. “Congrats on being the first person to ever beat Leslie at beer pong.”

Niall laughs and Rory smiles wider. He loves that smile. He’ll do anything for it. He’ll even make a fool of himself for it.

She sounds like she’s had too much to drink and he jokes about it, his heart lighting up when she giggles. It makes him feel like champagne bubbles are popping through his veins. That word is flashing in his mind again. Reckless. Because he’s selfish and he’s trying to figure out a way to steal more time with her. Because she’s here and she’s laughing and she’s looking at him like she wants to kiss him too. Is he imagining that?

“Wanna come back to mine and say hello to Spike?” he asks. He wants to make her laugh again.

“Mmmm.” She’s still grinning. “I was just about to head back to my place. Hanna from the kitchens gave me a slice of chocolate cake that is calling my name.”

Niall’s heart stutters. He tries again. “Okay. I can walk you back.”

Rory shrugs, and he finds himself stepping closer when someone bumps into her. “No, it’s fine,” she says, “I don’t wanna pull you away from all the fun. This is like…your moment.” Her smile falters for a moment but she fixes it back quickly. “And it looks like there are others who really want you to stay.”

Niall’s heart sinks. No, he thinks, please let me have more time with you. What can he say to make this better? He’s usually careless with his words but he tries to choose them carefully now, clearing his throat and trying to sound nonchalant. “Don’t really care about others, to be honest. I’d like to walk you home. If you’ll let me.”

Those must have been the right words, because all of her features are softening now. Coffee brown eyes and raspberry red lips. She smells like sunshine. “Yeah, okay,” she says, and it takes everything in him not to cheer out loud.

They finally get outside after being stopped a few times and the night air is so refreshing on Niall’s skin. It clears his mind of the fog of events from tonight and he’s glad for it. They’re both drunk and stumbling into one another. At one point they are overcome with giggles and Rory is dragging him through their laughter because she really wants her chocolate cake.

“Ugh. You’re so cute.” It slips out of his mouth before he can even think to stop it and he glances frantically over at Rory to make sure she’s not going to run away from his bluntness or something. He’s surprised to find that he’s inadvertently made her blush, a deep red color that spreads all the way to her ears. He can’t help the way he smiles at the sight.

“Jesus, Niall,” she huffs, absentmindedly tucking her hair back. Niall has to resist the urge to reach out and run his fingers through it, the memory of its softness tingling against his skin. “You can’t just say things like that. And besides, after tonight, you’re the one everyone’s gonna be talking about.” He must look at her questioningly because she continues. “You’re like a hotshot now. Beer pong champ and a Shack boy? All the girls are gonna be falling at your feet. If they weren’t already, that is.”

She’s grinning at him and waggling her brows but Niall can’t find it in himself to be playful about this. Still, he forces out a laugh. “Not really, no.”

Rory lets out a scoff, flipping her hair back. “Nonsense. Have you seen yourself?” This time Niall’s the one blushing. “I mean, Callie was basically drooling over you tonight. And she’s picky.”

He nearly groans. Why does the Callie thing keep following him around tonight? He knows Rory’s joking but he really doesn’t want to keep talking about her.

“I dunno. I just kind of mind my own business. I’m not interested in the messiness of it all…the whole ‘Shack boy’ thing.” They’re close to Rory’s place now and this conversation feels like it’s taking a turn. And not in a good way. He tries to think of something to get them back on track, to get them laughing at nothing like they just were. But then Rory is talking again.

“Why didn’t you do it?” She’s slurring again, and he thinks she might be changing the subject.

“Do what?”

She stalls for a moment, a tension seeping into the air, and it’s only then that he looks at her again. She appears to be thinking hard about something, the corner of her mouth pulled downwards. “Why didn’t you stay back? Like, Callie was clearly into you. She even invited you to—” She huffs. “Why didn’t you—”

“Jesus Rory.” He’s exasperated now because he really doesn’t like this conversation. How does she still not get it? He wants to spend time with her, not anyone else. Going to this party really was a terrible idea on his part. “I didn’t want to do anything with Callie.”

“I mean, I’m not judging you. It’s a party and that’s a thing. That happens. At parties. I think.” She’s drunk and she’s rambling and Niall wants to pull his hair out in frustration because how can he convince her that nothing is as she’s thinking at all.

They’ve stopped walking because he’s annoyed now. All night he’s wanted to be with her. All night he’s been trying to spend time with her. How can she not see it when everyone else—complete strangers—have mentioned it to him. “Are you fuckin’ serious right now?” He doesn’t mean to sound so upset but he is. He's drunk and really fucking upset. “You’re taking the piss, aren’t you?”

Rory looks confused and he suddenly feels bad. “What? I don’t know—”

Jesus. She can’t be serious. He’s really going to have to spell this out for her. Rory and her big brown eyes and her sunshine smell. He’s so weak for her and she’s acting like she can’t see it. “Rory, there is no way you have no idea what I’m talking about. You can’t possibly be that oblivious.” She is, apparently, because she looks at him blankly and asks what he’s going on about. He thinks he groans her name out because what? Jayden mentioned it. Johnny mentioned it. Everyone at this goddamn resort has somehow figured out that he’s hopelessly in love with her and yet Rory is still the last to know. “Callie wasn’t the one I wanted to make out with!” he finally blurts out.

He looks at her to see if she’s pieced it together yet but she just stares at him. Her blush is back too. “Then…who—”

“You!” The word echoes around them. The trees, the grass, the lampposts, all of them throw his voice back at the both of them. “You, Rory. This whole summer it’s been—” And, god, he can’t take it anymore. She’s inches away and watching him like she’s surprised and he’s suddenly so desperate to get her to believe that it’s true and he likes her and he wants to spend all his time with her and he can’t get her out of his stupid head.

He’s desperate and he wants so much and she’s here and she smells like sunshine and he’s suddenly reaching for her and crashing his lips against hers because he doesn’t know what else to fucking do. Rory leans back like she’s falling and his arms find her waist to hold her against him and her body does this thing like it’s melting into him and holy shit, he’s kissing Rory Bhatt.

And she’s kissing him back. Her head tilts, hands pulling him closer, throat releasing a sound that drains all the blood out of his head and he suddenly can’t even remember his own name. Her soft hair is tangled into his fingers, her lips tasting like fucking raspberry and rum and he nearly laughs because she smells like the sun and she tastes like it too.

She’s kissing him back and it’s frantic movements and heated touches and his skin is burning up like he’s Icarus and he’s gotten too close to the sun. She moans into his mouth again and he thinks he might faint.

But then her hands trail from his neck to his shoulders to his chest, pressing slightly like she’s going to push him away, and suddenly his wits come back to him and he’s falling from the sky and crashing back to earth.

Shit, he’s thinking. Shit shit shit. He’s drunk and he kissed her. She’s drunk and he kissed her. He wasn’t thinking. He got so caught up in trying to tell her how he feels that he took it too far. She’s going to think he took advantage of her because she’s had too much to drink and how could he be so fucking stupid!

“I’m sorry,” he rasps out, scrubbing his hands over his heated skin which burns from the memory of her touch and her lips and her warmth. “I shouldn’t have—I should’ve asked—”

“What?” Rory asks, but he can’t look at her. He’s too ashamed of himself. They were finally friends and he’s gone and ruined it because he’s drunk and impulsive and stupid.

“I didn’t wanna ruin anything and now I’ve gone and—” Fuck fuck fuck, how can he fix this? His brain is in shambles. All he can think of is Rory and sunshine and raspberry lip gloss. He’s fucked everything up. He can’t fix this. “Goodnight, Rory.” It’s all he can say before he starts to back away, resisting the urge to just run. He’s stupid and she’s going to hate him forever.

He walks and walks and doesn’t dare look back. He walks and the summer wind screams in his ears. You’re so stupid you’re so stupid. He walks and his thighs are burning but he doesn’t stop until he gets to his place.

It’s only until he gets the door closed behind them that he hears how hard he’s breathing, feels the shame prickling against his cheeks. He can still feel Rory’s hands on him and his knees finally give out, his back sliding down the door as he presses overheated fingers to his eyes.

She told him, too. He can still remember the look on her face when she did, sad and helpless and regretful. She told him about the bloke who broke her heart, who betrayed her, who took advantage of her. He had been so angry for her. And now look at him. What better is he? How could he do that knowing what she’d been through?

She was drunk and he kissed her without thinking.

Something is crawling along his feet and he moves his hands away from his eyes only to find that it’s Spike. He’s purring softly, tilting his head at him, and Niall reaches out to pull him close. Spike nuzzles into his shirt and purrs again, louder this time, and Niall wonders if it’s because he can smell Rory on him.

“I really fucked up, Spikey,” he mumbles quietly into the soft fur. “She’s gonna hate me.”

Spike licks his temple, letting out a soft mewl, and Niall sighs as he slumps back against the door.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to fix this.

#here u go friend i finally finished this #head in the clouds #niall horan fanfiction #1dff #writings #hitc drabbles

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fromtheashesofvalyria · 4 years

Text

They were both too young to know how to love.

Of course leave it to Harry Potter to be what drags me back into writing fan fiction. Apologies to people who follow me already since this is pretty different from posts I’ve done in the past, so feel free to ignore.

I just wanted to try and get some thoughts out about a fanfiction I’m currently writing, specifically the relationship between Harry and Daphne. Or the lack of one right now anyway. ;)

The basic background is that this is a soulmate AU with soulmate marks and empathy/semi-telepathy (I’m not sure what to call it honestly). The three main ships are Dramione, Ransy, and Pottgrass, and it’s a slowburn enemies to lovers starting from Goblet of Fire on. Emphasis on slowburn and enemies considering two of the involved are Draco and Pansy.

Before I started writing again, the only ones of those three I shippped/read fanfiction of were Draco/Hermione and Pansy/Ron. I originally picked Daphne because I’d read fics that had her as a character and liked her in them; after that I read two fanfics that made me really ship them, because the amount of ships I have due to fanart/fanfic is huge. (Previously I was, and actually still am, a Nottgrass shipper because I am a multi-shipper a lot of the time.)

I’m going to put the rest of my rambling under the cut.

So there are a couple different things going on here. The most superficial was that, when I had started writing, I’d been re-watching the Lizzie Bennet Diaries so I was a bit influenced by Pride and Prejudice when writing Daphne at first. Specifically the inspiration was Matthew Macfaden’s Darcy from the 2005 movie and Daniel Vincent Gordh’s William Darcy from LBD. (And as an aside Astoria was slightly based on Georgianna from the 2005 movie and Gigi Darcy from LBD.)

The inspiration became less strong the more I wrote, but her being standoffish/cold/rude to non-Slytherins (except Astoria) and the scene where Daphne tries to make a deal with Harry was inspired by Darcy's first, horrible proposal to Elizabeth. But that’s the shallower reason, let’s get into the meat of it, which is background vs appearance.

Harry Potter was orphaned at the age of one years old, was raised in an abusive family who didn’t even give him a room for ten years, had no friends until he got to Hogwarts, and was lied to by the Dursleys’ about what his parents were actually like. There were no pictures of his parents, he wasn’t told they were a witch and wizard, and he didn’t even know they were murdered. When he is told about his parents, he is given the romanticized view of James and Lily and their relationship. He thinks they were the perfect picture of soulmates, as he hasn’t been told that James was once a jerk that Lily really disliked. His first real experience of familial love was with the Weasleys and thinks of them as the best family in the world. Daphne knows nothing of this aside from the fact that he was raised by muggles; I don’t think she thought much about Harry at all outside of times parts of his adventures were found out by the school. Like the flying car incident. As she said in the fanfic, Harry just sort of existed to Daphne.

Harry is only fourteen years old at the start of the fic, and has only had a crush on Cho at this point, but he does know that he wants to have the real love and respect his parents had. He wants to have a family of his own that would actually be loving. He doesn’t want his potential future children to grow up without love. And, most importantly, he doesn’t think Daphne is capable of that.

What Harry knows about Daphne’s background is that she’s part of an old, wealthy pureblood family a la the Malfoys or the Parkinsons. (He wouldn’t know the term Sacred Twenty-Eight.) That’s pretty much it and would be about the amount of knowledge all the students from the other houses would know (except for Astoria, the Ravenclaw little sister, who is just as uncomfortable as Daphne when asked to talk about their parents). Harry is also generally dismissive of Slytherin house as a whole thanks to Draco and his gang; he thought they looked like a “pale and unpleasant lot'' at the Welcome Feast in first year.

Here’s how Daphne comes across to the kids outside of Slytherin: standoffish; doesn’t seem to talk much outside of class participation, and is often sarcastic when she does; doesn’t seem to have friends outside of Slytherin and the only non-Slytherin she is consistently genuinely affection towards is her little sister, and not everyone sees that; while not a member of Pansy’s gang is still known to be a good friend of Pansy’s, and is also close to Blaise who is seen as equally snobby.

(Speaking of Blaise, Daphne still wants to know why she’s the only one to get an insulting nickname like Ice Queen when Blaise and Theo are often just as anti-social towards the other houses as she is. In Theo’s case, more so. XD)

Of course, it’s easy to sympathize with Daphne when you know what her background is really like. Her parents, despite being soulmates, have an absolutely toxic relationship that their daughters had to witness: “Daphne Greengrass hadn’t been a fan of the soulmate concept for years now. She could even pinpoint the exact moment her disillusionment started: the night before her sixth birthday when her father finally told her mother that, soulmates or not, he had never loved her and had only married her out of both obligation to the bond and to the alliance with her family. This had then turned into a screaming match in her father’s study accompanied by the sound of glass being thrown at a wall.” This is just one incident.

Daphne was so used to her parents arguing (and to be really clear, I’m not talking about normal arguments couples have; I’m talking about full-blown trying to verbally/emotionally hurt the other as possible or just arguing to try and win against the other person) that she was already making it her job to comfort Astoria, who “was still a baby, and upset by it”. Daphne has grown up with a very dim view of romance and romantic love.

Now, Daphne does know that people can be genuinely in love. For all their many, many faults, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy are devoted to each other. Pansy’s parents aren’t on the same level, but are loving/affectionate enough with each other. However, she doesn’t think love and happiness are guaranteed so it’s better to have something more solid like respect or trust. However, that is hard to get across to Harry because she’s grown up to think being emotional is bad/a weakness and it’s hard for her to open up to people she doesn’t know well. (Pansy was her first friend at five years old and is still her best friend up until this point; it’s also the reason her other friends are the Slytherins she’s known for years at this point. People she’s used to.)

She could have approached Harry differently, flirted, or suggested dating, or tried to be romantic but she would have thought of that as dishonest/manipulative. Because Daphne knows love isn’t guaranteed for soulmates. Because Daphne knows she’s not the most likeable person. Because Daphne isn’t sure she could love Harry and doesn’t want to lie about it. Yes, Slytherins are all about cunning and clever ways to get what they want, but this is one of the areas Daphne would not even consider something like that. For all her issues, Daphne does have some standards.

Self-control and (just control in general) is something Daphne clings to because her parents were often unpredictable and she had to create a sense of being in control of her life. Her father is not a warm or empathetic person and he looks down on people being too emotional. (Yes, this is supposed to be hypocritical considering he’d get into screaming matches with his wife.) He would be out of the house a lot for both work and to get away from his wife. Her mother was emotionally and mentally in a bad place for a long time and withdrew from her children a bit. She improved by the time Daphne was at school, but her favorite is clearly Astoria for reasons that will be expanded on later. Daphne tells herself she gets it because Astoria is her favorite family member too. (Also I just want to make this clear, Daphne and Astoria are close siblings who genuinely love and care about each other. Daphne is also Astoria’s favorite family member. Their relationship, as I like to see/write it could be another post though so moving on.)

This need for self-control also was because of the stutter she had growing up. She was already self-conscious about it and she was very aware that her parents (her father in particular) saw it as a problem, which stressed her out more and made her stutter worse. The more emotional she’d get, the more likely she’d stutter. Whereas the more comfortable she was, the less often it happened. Pansy already mentioned in one of her POV’s that she barely heard Daphne stutter around her after a while; not a huge spoiler or surprise, but it was the same with Astoria. One of Daphne’s pre-Hogwarts tutors was essentially a wizard speech therapist, so she had it under control by first year but it was still recent enough at the time that she was pretty afraid of slipping up at school. Also consider the fact that some students (not just Slytherins either, but from all houses) made fun of Quirrell's stutter, and he was a teacher. (Yes he was evil, and only pretending to have one, but they didn’t know that then.) How much worse would the teasing be for a first year student? So as her father told her, sometimes it’s better not to talk at all.

Harry doesn’t know any of this.

Before things really started in the fanfic, Harry’s one interaction with Daphne that really stood out to him was that time she was sarcastic to him in first year after his first Quidditch game: “You know my family made the snitches used at Hogwarts. Please try not to choke on another of them next time.” When fourth year started, she ignored him completely in the Great Hall, and didn’t help her friend in a way he didn’t recognize/understand.

The next day, Daphne sends him a note ordering him to meet her during lunch, after not acknowledging him in public. (As Harry says, she didn’t even write please. It also didn’t ask him for a date and time to talk, just told him to meet her in a specific location.) When he asked if she was proposing to date him, she “made a truly exasperated sounding noise” which definitely hurt his pride a little. She also tried to approach a relationship (not necessarily even a romantic relationship, just in general) with him, someone she has barely spoken to, like a business deal, which he thinks is a cold way to look at it and he loses his temper. However, it should be noted that she asked him why when he rejected her out of hand and well, don’t ask a question you wouldn’t want an answer to.

Later on he sees her picking on a second year for seemingly no reason. In reality, this is a girl who did something to her sister and Daphne doesn’t let things like that slide when it comes to people she cares about.

Now afterwards things get murkier because Daphne is wanting to freeze him out/ignore him, but he is the one to poke at her. The soulmate bond is like an outside force that pushes down on two people to try and force them together, which can be downright unbearable if you really don’t like the other person. Harry finds the pressure it puts on them very hard and is stunned when she acts like she’s not affected at all. (He’d feel better if he knew she was feeling it just as much as him. Sort of like how Hermione and Ron both take comfort in the fact that Draco and Pansy are having as bad a time with the bond as they are.) He’s already under stress from the situation with his scar hurting and Sirius leaving his hideout to come back to England because of it, now add on to that the stress of an outside magical force trying to bond him to a girl he doesn't like and who doesn’t like him. No, he’s not handling it in a great way, but he’s young.

And Daphne could always try and talk to him about things good (sending him a song through the bond to help him sleep when worry for Sirius was keeping him up) and bad (the incident with the second year), but she doesn’t try. Partly it’s out of pride, but largely it’s because she’s developed unhealthy coping skills that she doesn’t realize are unhealthy.

#self indulgent #fanfiction #pottgrass #dramione #ransy #lions among the snakes #i think getting my thoughts down like this helped my muse #might ramble about my fanfiction again sometime #can you tell I’m an over thinker

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writethehousedown · 4 years

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And the Livin’s Easy Chapter One (Multi) - Zyan

a/n: me? doing yet another multi-chapter for the challenge? how original. this idea came to me while i was watching hawaii five-0 and i just ran with it. i have no actual knowledge of how the surfing world works, i’m a simple kick boxing fighter, so please bear with me and the in-accuracies you’ll find. the rest of the characters mentioned in the summary will appear in the next chapter :D my sideblog is @chachkisalpaca - oh, and also, frey is an absolute angel for beta-ing this. hope you enjoy!

Summary: The surfing season in Honolulu is at its peak, with every surfer, old and new, having their eyes on the big prize of the Hawaii Surf Association annual competition. As the day of the competition comes closer, Crystal tries to not get distracted with a certain Californian girl, Vanessa swears she’s over Brooke, Yvie tries to seduce the hotel’s lifeguard and Jaida is just witnessing everything go down as she sips on her piña colada.

It’s summertime and the beach is packed.

Crystal doesn’t expect any less, honestly; the summer season is at its peak, plus Honolulu is always a famous tourist spot. No wonder there’s barely a spot to stand in O’Ahu.

The waves are good today and Crystal engages in a playful banter when she encounters some of her fellow surfers while training. There’s a surfing competition next week, a very important one at that, and every surfer and their grandma wants that prize. To think of what she could do with the money — Crystal might just layback for the rest of the season and enjoy some very well deserved vacations before going back to Missouri for yet another college year.

She finds it sad that the waves last only during the summer, because she’s capable of surfing them even when the water temperature is below 0 and would catch a cold for the mere act of standing too close to the water (“Colds start with the feet,” her mother has been telling her since she was a child, and it just stuck.)

But she doesn’t have to worry for the winter that’s still months away; right now she just lets the Sun burn her skin as the water soaks her entire body.

She feels lightheaded, like she’s capable of doing anything while she’s on her surfing board.

“You getting’ better, Glass,” Vanjie shouts, while riding the same wave as her.

Crystal laughs loudly, the nickname ‘Glass’ still sounding so wild to her, she sometimes wonders why and how did Vanjie ever come up with that one.

“What do ya wanna bet that I’ll beat your ass next week,” Crystal yells back, and Vanjie cocks a brow, focused on keeping her balance.

“Fuck off, I bet you won’t even last the rest of training without falling.”

“If I make it through training without falling you’re buying me a drink at Sal’s.”

Vanjie meets her gaze for a brief second and laughs shortly.

“Es más fácil decirlo que hacerlo, but you got a deal, bitch.” She winks at her and Crystal takes it upon herself to win that bet.

“Veamos si puedes conmigo, perra.”

Gigi is, decidedly, not a beach person.

She gets it; the water looks pretty under the Sun, the palms make a good background for an Instagram picture, and her bathing suit fits her like a glove, drawing attention from both men and women, but despite all this — she just can’t take how crowded it is, the children running around and yelling like banshees, how cold the water is, the dirty people that leave their trash behind, and a long etcetera.

Brita’s been so kind to invite them to their family’s house in Honolulu for a few weeks, Gigi is very much aware of it, which is why she tries not to be a gigantic bitch while they’re on the beach; she doesn’t want Brita to kick her out, basically.

Besides, Honolulu is very pretty. One of the most beautiful cities she’s ever visited, actually. She doesn’t mind the rest of it; it’s this specific part of the city that she dreads. She’s also very aware of the irony of agreeing to go to a place that’s famous for its beaches while hating beaches, thank you very much.

She applies a generous amount of sunscreen to every inch of her body, still sitting under the umbrella and ignoring her friends’ pleas for her to join them in the water. Gigi merely says that she’ll meet them in a moment, and though they’re not very convinced by it, they still run towards the sparkly blue water.

Gigi clearly lied; as soon as they’re out of sight, she pulls out her phone and thinks for a moment about taking photos for her Instagram — if she’s going to spend most of this trip at the beach, she might as well take advantage of it and take some cute pictures for her feed. She didn’t pack so many bathing suits for nothing.

She’s scrolling through her DM requests —deleting the men, replying to the women— when there’s a sudden uproar from the people sitting around her. They’re cheering for something or someone. Gigi looks around, confused, until she lays eyes on the sea in front of her and the waves crashing against the shore; there are surfers in the waves, naturally, but these seem like the skilled type.

Gigi decides to film it for her Instagram Stories, because why not, they are talented, and Gigi can barely float around in her parents’ pool in a donut floatie without rolling over and drowning.

One of them falls, and the crowd gasps, though Gigi isn’t all that interested in it. Her friends wave at her from the sea and Gigi scrambles to find an excuse not to join them.

Crystal can’t stop laughing, even when they arrive at the shore and all Vanjie does is shout at her, saying that she bewitched her or something, because there’s no way she fell instead of her.

“Get over it, Vanj. You owe me now.”

She sticks her board into the sand, taking her hair tie off and rearranging her hair in a ponytail. Her hair is soaked, clearly, and Crystal’s hands are already tired at the thought of having to shampoo the sea water off it.

Crystal doesn’t mind though, it’s worth it.

Vanjie shots Crystal a deadly glare and rearranges her own hair, groaning slightly as she does so.

“I’m only paying you because a bitch keeps her promises,” she says. “Also, on the note of having drinks, you wanna grab a smoothie before going on with training? But you’re paying for your own drink, ho.”

Crystal laughs wholeheartedly with a nod. She goes to look between the pockets of her bag for money and asks one of her friends to watch her board for her; it’ll just be a moment.

They’re talking about their plans once the competition is done and what would they do if they get the prize money. Vanessa says she’ll pack up her stuff and go back to Puerto Rico for the rest of the summer even if she loses, and will chase waves on her hometown beach. Maybe teach a few of the little ones in her family to surf, if she has the time and patience for it.

“Y’know, the little shits are getting bigger and bigger, and they barely remember their aunt Vanessa! My girl Julia, bless that one, still remembers me — but, bitch, she did her first communion already! Damn, last time I checked she was still five,” Vanjie rambles, and Crystal definitely feels her on a spiritual level.

This is the part she likes about being friends with Vanjie, the fact they both have similar experiences with their Latin families and understand each other in a way most people wouldn’t. Her favourite part of summer is getting to spend it with her.

Crystal says something about her little nephew Mateo —who Vanessa adores, despite having not met him yet, just because his name matches with her surname— and how he’s gotten so big in the blink of an eye, already reaching Crystal��s hip, when she bumps into something.

Or rather, someone.

There’s a gasp and Crystal is wet yet again, though this time it’s sticky and it smells fruity.

“Well, there goes ten dollars,” a voice snarls, and Crystal finally pulls up her gaze to meet the asshole that just spilled their drink all over her.

She finds a woman with long auburn hair, skin pale as snow, think as a rail, with pink plump lips and a pair of icy blue eyes staring right back at her. Crystal thinks it’s a shame that she’s an asshole, because she is really pretty.

“Watch where you walk, pendeja,” Crystal bites back and the woman rolls her eyes, avoiding her as she goes on with her way. Vanjie and Crystal briefly look at her before proceeding with what they were doing. “At least I can wash the stickiness off once we hit the waves again,” she consoles herself, resigned to smell like fruit until she gives her bathing suit a proper wash.

“I hate the beach,” Gigi declares, settling at Jackie’s side with a huff and her arms folded. Jackie quirks an amused eyebrow, barely stifling a laugh, and Nicky casts a side glance at her.

“Why’s that?” Nicky asks, her gaze still glued to her phone.

“Some idiot cost me ten dollars, can you believe? I didn’t even have a sip of that smoothie!” Gigi complains with a whine that’s rather childish. Jackie just laughs, patting her friend’s back.

“If you join us now, I’ll buy you another smoothie later.”

“Fuck off with that motherly tone, Jacqueline,” Gigi says with a laugh, Jackie gasps offended and swats her arm playfully.

“That’s not the way to talk to your friends, baby Geeg!” Jackie scolds her, only making Gigi laugh louder.

Jackie is the eldest of them all (though, to be fair, she’s only a couple months older than Brita) and she’s naturally the mom friend. She’s pulled them out of the bar, called cabs, helped them through heartbreaks, more than Gigi can count (though Gigi isn’t good at counting). It’s only fair she gets to do these jokes.

Gigi pouts and puts on her puppy eyes, locking her hands. “Do you promise to buy me a smoothie, though?” She asks, in a tone so high-pitched she annoys herself.

But never Jackie, she’s got the patience none of them have, so she just nods with an over the top sigh and forcefully drags her to the water.

Gigi hates what the salty water does to her hair, though to be fair — Jackie did buy her a smoothie once they came back to their spot.

Sal’s Shack has grown to be Crystal’s favourite place on the island.

She discovered it when she was a little girl and came to Honolulu for the first time, after her parents saved up for a whole year and her father pushed as much as he could for a promotion at his job. It isn’t just a restaurant or a bar; Sal doesn’t like labels, so he never put one on his establishment.

It’s whatever you want it to be, though it does become a bar after midnight, that title going away once the Sun is up.

When Crystal met Vanjie, almost five summers ago, she took her to Sal’s Shack, and Vanjie was so in love with the place they kept on coming back, with or without the other.

Sal immediately smiles upon seeing them enter, even if the place is already getting crowded, Sal tells them he’d be able to hear Vanjie’s voice from a mile away.

“What can I get you tonight, girls?” He asks, with that warm, kind smile that reminds Crystal of her childhood years.

“I’m in the mood for your spicy meatballs sandwich,” Vanjie says dreamily, prompting Sal to laugh wholeheartedly. Crystal follows her suit by saying she wants a burger, and tells Sal not to be shy with the sauce.

They get settled while they wait, talking about how their college careers are going and how much they want the summer to be endless.

There’s just something about this city that makes it magical, Crystal likes to think. She’s had a few summer flings there, never seeing them again once she packed up her things and came back to Missouri, but each one of them had something special that made Crystal feel as if it wasn’t just a summer fling.

She wonders if she’ll find someone new this time around too, though it isn’t high up in her priority list.

Brita takes them to her uncle’s restaurant-bar-whatever, saying they have to visit it, not only because they serve pretty good cocktails, but also because there are always some hotties hanging around.

Though the idea of a summer hook up is attractive to Gigi, this isn’t Los Angeles; she doesn’t have any cab numbers, she still can’t properly manage herself around, and would consequently get lost trying to come back to the house. She tells herself that she’ll wait a few days until she’s a little more familiar with the place, just in case.

They arrive to the bar —Gigi’s decided to call it a bar for her own sanity—, and much like at the beach, the place is full, and she can’t see a free table.

“Don’t worry, girls,” Brita says, “I called my uncle and told him to save us a table, follow me.” So follow they do. They absentmindedly link hands and elbow their way through the place. The music is blasting through the speakers, there’s a couple of people dancing, and a lot of others just standing with their drinks and nudging on them.

Gigi has to admit Brita was right; there are some attractive people around, and it takes all of Gigi’s willpower not to stare. Perhaps sticking to the rules she’s just imposed on herself won’t be that easy.

They make it to the end of the bar and Brita smiles widely upon seeing her uncle, breaking the chain of hands and launching herself into his arms. The girls stand there awkwardly until they finish their conversation.

“He looks like Brita, but as a man,” Jan comments in a whisper, making Gigi and Nicky laugh. Jackie shushes them, though she agrees under her breath.

Brita introduces them one by one with a wide smile, and Gigi has to admit the resemblance between them is scary. Brita’s uncle gives them a warm welcome and tells them to call him Sal before guiding them to their table. It’s in a corner of the place and they can see everyone and everything, plus, they’re a few feet away from the bar. It’s a nice spot overall.

They get settled and Sal leaves them a few menus with the drinks options, including non-alcoholic drinks, and leaves to go back to work, telling them to look for him if they need anything.

Gigi briefly looks at the menu before setting it aside and looking around the bar, trying to find a face that stands out from the rest — instead, she hears a voice that breaks through the noise and makes a few heads turn around.

They voice comes from a few tables away, right in front of them. There’s a woman with dark, curly hair waving her arms around and talking with her friend, while the other woman sitting in front of her and facing Gigi is dying with laughter.

Gigi squints, finding her face oddly familiar, until it clicks.

Crystal throws her head back as she laughs, bracing her stomach as Vanjie grows louder and louder during her speech.

“And the fucking bitch had the AUDACITY to call me a fucking liar! Can you believe?” Vanjie slams her fist on the table and Crystal is hollering with laughter. She knows she shouldn’t have brought up the fact that her ex is also coming to the competition, but right now Vanjie is too worked up to back down.

For the longest time, Crystal thought Canada didn’t have any surfers — with such a cold weather, how could someone even want to enter the water? But it turns out that Vanjie’s ex, Brooke, is Canadian and a surfer, and she’s going to be competing alongside them. She found out, because she follows Yvie Bridges’ socials, and she posted a picture with Brooke, captioning it with “Excited to be reunited with my sister in Honolulu!” Except with a lot more exclamation marks.

Vanjie quickly tries to backpedal her entire rant by saying she’s not bothered at all by Brooke’s presence, because she’s over her and she’s seeing this girl, Kameron, who she met in a competition in Puerto Rico and is a sports photographer.

Crystal cocks a brow and before Vanjie can further prove to Crystal that she’s not over Brooke at all, she asks her if she wants another round of destornilladores. Vanjie nods effusively, tossing bills to her.

She heads to the bar and perches herself on it, waving at the barman. She places her order and when there’s a seat available, she takes it without hesitation.

Crystal is watching the barman as he mixes her drink, when someone slides into the empty seat next to her. She casts a quick glance over them and has to do a double take when the woman’s face is familiar.

She blinks repeatedly; this is the woman that threw her smoothie at her earlier that day.

It seems that Smoothie Girl recognizes her too, because she stares at her for a moment too long, and somehow Crystal finds the courage to speak up.

“You’re the asshole that threw their smoothie in my bathing suit,” Crystal finally speaks up.

“And you’re the asshole that threw herself into my smoothie,” she shots back, cocking one of her perfectly painted eyebrows, and Crystal has to admit that was a good one.

The barman places her orders in front of her; Crystal quickly pays him and Smoothie Girl takes advantage of his presence to place her own order. Crystal searches for Vanjie’s eyes among the crowd, and she finds her with her stare glued on her. She smiles when she sees their drinks, but frowns when Crystal points at the woman sitting beside her.

It’s her, she mouths, but Vanjie tilts her head, confused. Smoothie Girl, she mouths this time, and Vanjie looks surprised. She starts to mouth things Crystal can’t catch, but she guesses it’s a combination of get your ass over here, and that bitch.

“I’ve been thinking all day about what you called me,” she says, attracting Crystal’s attention again. She frowns, confused.

“What? Pendeja?” She asks, and Smoothie Girl nods. “Oh, that’s Spanish for asshole.”

Smoothie Girls snorts, cocking a brow. “What’s the Spanish word for ‘you owe me ten bucks’?”

“That would be ‘in your dreams,’” Crystal retorts, the brunette rolls her eyes.

She knows Vanjie is watching them closely, her stare burning a hole in Crystal’s neck, in case hands need to be thrown. But she has a feeling she won’t be needing Vanjie’s hands — not that she can say the same about this woman.

The barman leaves a drink in front of Smoothie Girl and she pays with a coquettish smile, Crystal thinks her drink smells way too fruity.

“That smoothie left my bathing suit smelling like fruit even when I washed it three times,” Crystal comments, trying to sound nonchalant. The woman cocks a brow as she sips on her drink. “What flavor was it, anyway?”

She seems surprised by the question, though she’s quick to answer.

“Uh, mango and peach, I think,” she replies and Crystal scrunches up her nose.

“Ugh, that sounds hideous.”

“It’s not! Had you licked your bathing suit you would know it’s very tasty.” She laughs at her own joke, and Crystal finds herself laughing too.

It’s weird how just moments ago they were calling each other assholes and now they’re laughing like nothing happened.

Crystal scoots herself closer in the chair, their knees practically brushing as she tries to catch her gaze.

“You got a name, Smoothie Girl?” She inquires in a casual tone. Smoothie Girl finally meets her gaze, and her blue eyes aren’t as icy as the first time they ran into each other.

“Genevieve, but everyone calls me Gigi.” She offers her hand to shake and Crystal gladly takes it. “And you?”

“I’m Crystal. Some people call me Crys, others Cryssie — and that dumbass over there,” she discreetly points at Vanjie, who’s typing away in her phone, trying to act as if she hasn’t been staring at them for a long minute now, “calls me Glass. Don’t ask me why, she just does.” Crystal shrugs, and Gigi laughs.

She feels some sort of pride blooming in her chest at making Gigi laugh.

“So, Crystal,” Gigi begins. “Do I have to assume you’re a surfer? I mean, what you were wearing when you ran into my smoothie looks like something a surfer would wear.”

Crystal nods enthusiastically, proceeding to tell her that she’s been surfing on and off since she was just thirteen and how she comes to Honolulu every year, rarely shifting her destination for the summer.

In return, Gigi confides her that she’s from California and it’s her first time in Honolulu, saying that her friend —Sal’s niece, apparently— invited them and she just couldn’t say no, even when she isn’t that much of a beach enthusiast. She hates them, in fact.

Upon hearing this, Crystal lets an over the top gasp that makes Gigi go into a fit of giggles, apparently already expecting that reaction.

“What the fuck? Dude, you can’t be serious,” she exclaims, and Gigi continues giggling.

“I’m deadly serious,” she assures her, twirling a strand of hair around her index finger.

“You don’t even like the food or ice cream?”

“I do, I hate the dirty people that leave their trash behind, though.”

“What about the kids? They’re always so cute — running around with their water guns and getting excited over everything. Some remind me of my own little cousins.”

Gigi visibly scrunches up her nose, doing a disgusted face.

“I hate kids, actually.”

Crystal folds her arms in a huff, intently staring at Gigi.

“No, there’s no way you’re that much of a… Beach Grinch,” she blurts out, the embarrassment flooding over her as soon as the words come out from her mouth. Gigi cocks a brow.

“Beach Grinch? Now that’s original,” Gigi says, leaning in closer to Crystal, a wicked smile painted in her lips. “Y’know, though I find the beach extremely boring, I can’t say the same for the people that like it.”

Crystal grins; she’s played this game far too many times, but something in Gigi makes her think this time it won’t be as easy as with the other ones.

Just when she’s lining up a witty reply, Gigi suddenly scoots back, a bashful smile where there used to be a wicked one.

“Sadly, I don’t have the time to think too much about it, ‘cause I’m here to have a good time with my friends. Later!”

She hops off from her chair, bringing her drink with her, and makes her way back to her friends, swaying her hips as she walks and making her skirt fly with the movement.

Crystal takes a moment to realize what Gigi just did, and when she finally pulls herself back together to walk over to Vanjie with their drinks, she tries to convince herself that maybe Gigi is another one of those straight girls wanting to “experiment.” It’s what she says to herself to make her cheeks cool down several degrees.

Vanjie says they can cash the bitch outside if she wants to fight, but Crystal just dismisses her with a wave of her hand.

After they finish their drinks, they hang around at Sal’s for a little longer, dancing when there is a good song playing and talking with strangers, and just before they leave, Crystal looks through the crowd for Gigi’s eyes, and she finds her staring right back. What she sees in her eyes makes her stomach twist.

‘If she’s playing hard to get, then it’s on,’ she thinks, and the next thing she thinks is that Gigi can read her mind, because the wicked smile is back into her face before Crystal withdraws her gaze.

#rpdr fanfiction #past branjie #crygi #brita filter #crystal methyd #gigi goode #jackie cox #jan sport #nicky doll #vanessa vanjie mateo #zyan #and the livin's easy #lesbian au #surfer au #summer lovin' 2020 #day 1: bathing suit #submission

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