-Inspired by The Selection by Kiera Cass-
Summary: In a world seperated into a caste system, a system where people are separated by their profession and wealth, thirty five girls are given the opportunity of a lifetime. The chance to marry the charming prince, Shawn Mendes. Aubrielle , a six, is given this opportunity and she can only hope she is good enough for Shawn.
Word Count: 1k
Author’s Note: I read this series a long time ago, so I apologize if a few details are not accurate :)
“You missed a spot,” said Mrs. Sallow, pointing to a small spot on the counter, in a slightly demeaning way, that I was now used to.
“Oh, um I’m sorry, I will uh get on that immediately Mrs. Sallow,” I stammered and began cleaning the spot vigorously.
After sweeping the kitchen and dusting off some shelves, I left the Sallow estate that was surrounded by the homes of other two’s. I walked in silence for a while on my way back to my house, when I was approached by a familiar voice.
“Oh my gosh! Aubrielle!”
I turned around and was greeted by a warm smile.
“Hi Blair,” I said in a soft voice.
“I haven’t seen you in a while Aubri. What have you been up to?” she asked.
“Oh you know, I’ve been working a few jobs and helping out my family.”
“Aubri, I’ve told you many times, if you ever need any financial help, I am right here,” Blair stated.
“Thank you, really, but I could never accept your offer. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for dinner.”
I walk away and hear Blair’s voice saying goodbye behind me. I have always felt slightly uncomfortable associating myself with Blair. Why? Well, it’s very simple actually. Blair is a two. I am a six. Sixes don’t associate with twos, unless they are serving them, cleaning their house, or cooking their food. But Blair didn’t agree with this. She didn’t see me as a number, she saw me as a person. Which was strange, but sweet.
I continued on my walk home, which was about a twenty minute walk from the Sallow estate. I had checked the clock before I left the Sallow’s home and it was ten past five, leaving exactly twenty minutes for me to be home in time to cook dinner for my family.
In my country, Illea, the wealthier you were, the lower your number is. Ones consist of royalty and religious leaders. These people are praised and have more money than you could ever imagine. Two’s are celebrities, Three’s are businessmen, teachers, and doctors, Four’s are Jewelers and managers, Five’s are artists and performers, Six’s are workers, Seven’s are manual laborers, and Eights are the “untouchables”.
My family is often looked down on due to our caste. Sixes consist of workers. Just two steps above eights, or the “untouchables” which consists of the mentally ill, disabled, and addicts. We obviously didn’t ask for this lifestyle, but it has been passed down for generations, since no one has been able to marry up.
Which is why I’m hoping I get chosen for the selection. I got the application letter in the mail a few weeks ago and my family didn’t notice since they are always too busy working. About a week ago, I went to turn in my application, telling my family I had booked another job. I didn’t want to get their hopes up so I kept the whole thing a secret. Tonight was the night that the selected would be announced, which is the main reason I’m in such a rush to get home.
The selection is essentially a competition between thirty five girls from different castes to win the prince’s heart. The current prince is Shawn Mendes. He seems charming on screen, but I am not hoping to get in this competition for love. I want the money. It may sound shallow and it probably is, but I want to give my family a better life. My parents have worked so hard their whole life to provide us with everything we need. My two younger brothers Kyle and Louis deserve to go to bed with a full stomach and my two older sisters Addison and Adeline are so overworked and deserve a break.
I finally get home and head straight for the kitchen.
“Hi mom,” I greet my mother that has already laid out all the ingredients on the counter that I would be using today.
“Hello darling, just in time,” she smiled at me.
“Where are the rest of the potatoes?” I ask noticing there’s only two.
“That’s all we have,” my mom said.
“Two potatoes for seven people, great,” I mumbled.
“We have some bread too,” my mom said matter of factly.
I sighed, “Thank you mom.”
I began cooking and was done about forty-five minutes later. Kyle had already set the table, so I simply just placed the small portions of food on everybody’s plates. Dinner was pretty silent tonight, most likely because everyone was exhausted from a long day of hard work.
I cleared my throat and said,”The announcement for the selected airs tonight.”
“So?” said my older sister Adeline.
“I just- I don’t know, maybe we should watch it.”
“Wh-” my sister began but was interrupted by my mother.
“That sounds fun Aubri,”
I smiled and quickly finished my dinner then waited for the rest of my family to finish as well. After everyone was done, we all moved to our small living room that had the ugliest couch you’ve ever seen. It was vomit green with brown accents on the side.
The capital report started and I began to zone out. But I then heard two keywords. “The Selected”. My attention was immediately caught and I hoped and prayed that my name would be called. The host, Stellen, began calling out names and castes of the selected girls.
“Harper Fernsby, Four”
“Zadie MacQuoid, Two”
“Amora Loughty, Five”
“Reagan Dankworth, Two”
“Blair Berrycloth, Two”
Blair was chosen, I sighed and listened to the rest of the names. Soon twenty nine names had already been called and I was beginning to lose hope.
“Henley McCaa, Three”
“Aubrielle Boldon, Six”
It took me a moment to realize what was said.
“OH MY GOSH, WHAT?” yelled my sister Addison.
My family immediately hugged me, not even asking how my name was called. I glanced at the T.V and saw Shawn Mendes’ face. He could be my future husband.
part two coming soon :)
Shawn’s instagram stories (April 5)
Shawn’s instagram stories (April 5)
this gives me frat boy!shawn. Can come one write a frat boy!shawn fic?
OMG so I went for something a bit different - the parts in bold are normal time, the parts in italics are throwbacks, mostly consisting of smut so if you don’t wanna read them then don’t but if you do, then you do you, boo. Sorry if it does not live up to expectation I just let it flow 🥰🥰🥰
Warnings: smut, bad writing and not proof-read 🥺🤪
The St. Christoper trailing from his now flushed, marked neck bobbed up and down, where it rested at the top of his chest, with the rhythm of his heavy breathing. The love heart shaped earrings he’d brought you back from some quirky, independent store whilst he was on tour and lifelong silver anklet were the only things covering your bare body. But one thing you both did have in common was the fact you both felt nothing but heaven and ecstasy all rolled into one. Your head rested on his solid chest, the feeling of his breath brushing through your hair every so often. “God, I’ve fucking missed you”, he sighed happily, pressing his lips to the top of your head, almost eating a mouthful of your hair.
His holdall dropped to the floor immediately, slamming the door shut behind him with his foot. You were sat in the kitchen, the steaming pasta dish you’d made displayed nicely across the dining table, a selection of his favourite garlic breads in the middle. “Babe?” He shouted, instantly making you chuckle. His first point of call was the living room, where the television was muted, but playing re-runs of some dumb reality show to itself. He stood in the door frame, as if he was double checking you weren’t in there as you crept up behind him, your tip toes aiding you in reaching up to cover his eyes with your hands. “No, a robber, actually…” you smiled, unable to keep him from doing a 180 spin on the spot, knocking your arms away from his face.
Your breathe paused - taking in all of the glory that was known as Shawn Mendes. He could be gone for 5 minutes or 5 months - which, unfortunately, he had - and you’d still be surprised at how incredible breathtakingly beautiful he was every time. He, of course, would say the same thing about you, one hundred times over. His eyes were sleepy, presumably from the long haul flights and endless amount of shows, but somewhere in there you saw the lustful, loving look he always gave you. “Sexiest robber I’ve ever come across”, he laughed, before you knew it, bending down and gripping around the back of your thighs to pick you up. He walked a few steps forward, your legs wrapped around his waist, until your back pushed against the grey wall in the hallway, closing you in with no way out. Not that you minded one bit. His lips were eager to meet yours, hungry for the taste he’d missed so much over the past months. It was sloppy, but perfect, making up for every second he’d missed whilst being away. “I made…” he interrupted your sudden speech with more kisses, pausing you, “your favourite…” and again, “dinner. Thought…” again, “you’d be hungry”, you finally rushed out, continuing to accept his attack. “Oh, I’m hungry for something” He smirked, walking you both away from the direction of the kitchen and towards the bedroom.
Summary: You’re a soprano, touring the world and you meet Shawn Mendes in a bar in Toronto the night before your concert. It’s the start of something beautiful.
Word count: 3.8k
I hope you’ll like this! Please tell me what you thought, feedback makes my day!
“That was you?” Shawn gasped, pointing his finger towards you. His eyes were all wide, giving away just how intrigued he was. His mouth was left slightly agape as he regained his composure. He was taken aback, sure, but this momentary lapse of reason was definitely fuelled by the few too many shots he had just downed.
You looked at him amused, waiting for some kind of signs that would prove his question was rhetorical. None came. He kept looking at you with a wide smile that was threatening his cheeks integrity. “Yes” you finally exclaimed, “That was me”
He shook his head, as if helping the newly acquired information to settle, “No way” Shawn gawked, “You should be a singer. Hell, how am I famous when someone with a voice like yours exists?”
“Shawn” you gushed, leaning your head to the side. “That’s sweet of you, thanks”. As your cheeks started to blush, you hurried to set things straight, “There are thousands of sopranos out there. Nothing special about me”
“Are you serious?” he belted, standing up from his chair. Not that he was to go anywhere, he just needed more space to let his overly enthusiastic gestures materialize. “You carried that whole song as if it was nothing!”
“I can’t even reach any of those notes!” he yelled, not allowing you to speak.
“I was born with this. That’s what being a soprano means” you laughed.
His explosive approach died down. He was calmer now, his words gentle and eyes all warm, “That doesn’t take any of your credit away, (Y/n). You’re an extraordinary singer, it’s all you. All you-” he spoke determined, “You really don’t see how out of this world your voice is?”
p.s. I love you
Remaining a shawn stan throughout all of this is like being dickmatized by a dick you’ve never recieved
a little funny blurb, dedicated to the anon who wanted something with playing with his culrs!
word count: 623
“You think it’s gonna be enough?” Shawn asks, eyebrows furrowed as he stares down at the pile you just gathered in the middle of the living room.
“My obsession with blankets finally pays off. It’s more than enough,” you smile at him. “Come on, let’s get down to business.”
still don’t understand this hair…
Somedays I’m like damn I miss the Shawnblr fandom and then I log on to that side and realize why I left.
shawnmendes via Instagram stories (April 5th, 2020)
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