Tumgik
#you mean to tell me you listened to patrick say ‘you said please don’t ever change but you don’t like me the way I am’
earthfromadistance · 8 months
Text
I can’t believe that there were/are mania haters like how can you hate an album that gave us hits like stay frosty royal milk tea and last of the real ones and hold me tight or don’t and Wilson (expensive mistake) and church and heaven’s gate and champion and sunshine riptide and young and menace and bishops knife trick??
250 notes · View notes
harrywavycurly · 2 months
Note
I’m selfishly asking for some Uncle Steve and Dot content please Sarah 😘😘😘
Hiii babes!! I friggin LOVE Steve and Dorothy’s relationship so I will happily give you some convos between them!💖
-find all things It Was Just One Night here✨
*for these Dotty is in middle school*
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Hey there she is! My favorite niece!” “I’m your only niece…what are you wearing?” “Even if I had other nieces you’d still be my favorite…what you don’t like the new vest?” “Your old one had all the patches mom and I sewed on for you.” “Oh…I mean I still have them if you wanna add them to this one?” “Eh it doesn’t matter…so dad said you’re in charge of me until they get done with dinner and then…my mom told me to tell you if you make me work then you better pay me.” “When have I ever made you work when you come hang out with me at the store?” “Uh…last week? I stocked the candy for you while you talked to what’s her face on the phone for ten minutes.” “God you sound just like your mom when you say what’s her face…her name is Nancy by the way.” “Nancy? Isn’t she married?” “Yeah…so? What’s your point?” “Uncle Steve…” “it was a friendly chat okay? She called to see if we had a certain movie in stock that’s all….but uhm…don’t tell your mom please? She’s still weird about her.” “Okay but it’s gonna cost ya…” “red vines or Swedish fish?” “Red vines.” “Deal.”
“You did great out there!” “Thanks uncle Steve…did you watch the whole practice or just the end?” “Oh I was here for the whole thing…that little kick and jump thing you did was just…out of this world good.” “You don’t know anything about cheerleading do you?” “No…not really…” “dad said you dated a lot of them so you should know a thing or two.” “Your dad doesn’t know shi…anything…about who I’ve dated so don’t listen to him.” “I can show you a few new tumbles I learned last week if you want?” “Tumbles? Is that like when you…oh wow that’s impressive! Look at you go!” “What’d ya think? I really want to make the squad in high school.” “Oh you’re going to make the squad alright…probably even head cheerleader.” “Shut up you really think so?” “Yeah you’re great!” “Thanks…oh can we go to Benny’s on the way home? It’s half off cheese fry night.” “You and your mom with this sick obsession with cheese fries…” “is that a yes?” “Yes…it’s a yes.”
“Hello?” “Hey Uncle Steve.” “Hey my little polkadot what’s going on?” “I was calling to see if you could come pick me up from school?” “School? It’s like five in the evening what have you been doing since two thirty?” “Uhm…detention…” “do your parents know you were at detention?” “Yes they are just at work right now and I don’t feel like walking home and Granddaddy Wayne is taking his pre dinner nap.” “I’ll come get you if…you tell me what you got detention for?” “I may have accidentally hit someone in the face with my hand.” “Right…was this hand balled up into a fist?” “Possibly….” “Who’d you hit?” “Patrick Carver…he’s an asshole.” “Did you say Carver? As in his dad’s name is Jason?” “I don’t know his dad’s name all I know is mom said the whole family is bad news and that’s why she wasn’t that mad….” “But?” “But dad wasn’t happy and told me I’m grounded for two weeks and to keep my hands to myself.” “I hate to say this but I agree with your dad but also…the Carver family is full of asshole so…just next time don’t hit him on school property and it’ll be fine.” “That’s what mom said!” “Just sit tight and I’ll be there in a few minutes…you hungry?” “I could do with a snack yeah…” “we’ll grab some dinner on the way to drop you off at your mom’s work.” “Okay sounds good…thanks uncle Steve…I love you.” “I love you too Dot but do me a favor and stop getting so many detentions.” “You got it.”
57 notes · View notes
bitches-who-write · 3 years
Note
Can you do headcanons siblings of the gang ? Like, how they act with them and how they treat them and how they let the gang act with them ?
Somewhat important note below~
So we know we said we take requests on a first come, first serve basis; however for the sake of time today (and due to the fact that we did not post anything last week) we decided to take on this request early. PLEASE do not be offended or upset if you are still waiting for your request! We promise we will be getting to them ALL. After this post now, we will go back to our fist come, first serve rule.
We have a few requests which we'll be writing longer stories for vs casual headcannons. Stories typically take us several hours to complete since your 2 lovely bitches who write do not live close enough to one another. We write together via FaceTime and Google Doc. We appreciate all your support and patience with us as we write you guys the best content possible! Enough rambling now, Enjoy these headcannons!!!
Patrick With A Little Sister-
Oh boy… Patrick is crazy over protective of his little sister.
Maybe the word should be obsessive and controlling instead~
He watches her every move. He even comes into her room as she sleeps just to occasionally check on her.
Whenever she gets out of Belch’s car heading to school, Patrick keeps a close eye on her again. Mentally noting everyone she talks to.
He makes sure everyone is in line. It doesn’t matter if it’s an adult or a kid. If they do something Patrick doesn’t like, they’re getting fucked up.
Patrick refuses to let guys talk to her. Only Henry, Vic and Belch are allowed to.
When Patrick isn’t around, he puts the other Bower’s Gang members in charge of her. And she knows well enough to listen to them.
He sometimes makes inappropriate comments about her, resulting in a smack off the head by the other guys.
Patrick LOVES to mess with her.
Always holding things over her head so she can’t reach.
Laughs as she tries to jump up and grab it from him.
He’ll lean down and rest his arms on the top of her head since she’s so much smaller than him.
When she doesn’t listen to Patrick, he will literally just pick her up and throw her over his shoulder and laugh as she struggles to get down.
Even though she’s a girl and a few years younger than him, doesn’t mean she’s safe from how rough Patrick gets.
He still wrestles her to the ground and puts her in a damn headlock.
Definitely gets a few bruises from Patrick playfully hitting her. (Patrick doesn't realize his own strength.)
One word… tickled. Patrick is always tickling the shit out of her to tease her.
It’s even worse when the entire Bower’s Gang joins in on torturing her.
Look… this is Patrick. So he still has a mean, sadistic side.
He gets off on fear so he loves to scare her anyway he can.
Whether that is by jumping out at her, or doing something dangerous and reckless like picking her up and dangling her over the cliff edge to the quarry. (she hates heights and doesn’t know how to swim.)
“Uh no! You’re slipping! Better hold on, sweetheart. I know you don’t know how to swim.” He chuckles darkly, smirking down at her as she grips onto his forearm tightly and cries.
Patrick doesn’t hesitate on the low- blows, either. Making comments that he knows will make her cry.
If she threatens to tell their parents on him, Patrick will grab her from behind agressively, making her gasp as he covers her mouth tightly and whisper tauntingly in her ear:
“Now, Now.. Just why would you say that? You know that only gets you in trouble, little one..” He chuckles darkly and tightens his grip in a painful manner.
Patrick With A Little Brother-
…… I think we all know how this ended…. Patrick disliked his little brother, Avery… a lot. You see, Patrick likes being the only male sibling. It’s less competition and less hassle for him. Only Patrick is allowed to make (more like break) the reputation of his family’s name in the small town of Derry, Maine. Bottom line, if Patrick had another little brother, it would result in the same outcome as Avery. Sorry.
Belch With A Little Sister-
Very protective. Does not let her out of his sight for a second.
Hovers over her when they walk in the woods so she doesn’t trip or fall down.
He brings her along when he goes out with the guys sometimes, unless he knows they will be partaking in illegal activities.
Keeps snacks in his car for whenever she rides with him and always makes sure she eats 3 proper meals during the day.
Not only does he have extra snacks but he has a first aid kit, too.
He’s always prepared knowing she’s small, so there’s a good chance she’ll accidentally get hurt hanging around the guys.
And yes, it has happened on more than one occeasion.
He checks on her during school and makes sure no one is messing with her.
After school, Belch makes sure she does her homework but never really helps her with it. Why would he? He doesn’t even do his own assignments.
For the most part, he’s pretty sweet but sometimes the big brother power goes to his head.
He makes her do her chores and his around the house.
If she ever did something wrong, Belch goes right to blackmail.
“I won’t let mom know about that F on your report card… only IF you wash my car everyday the rest of this week.
Henry purposely spills his drink on the hood of the car right after she just got down cleaning it.
“Opps.. looks like you missed a spot. Better get to it, kid.” Henry says mockingly as he ruffles her hair walking by.
Belch always makes sure she’s safe in bed by the end of the night though.
He even kisses the side of her head when the guys aren’t around.
Belch With A Little Brother-
He takes him under his wing.
Loves to talk about cars- the makes and models, horsepower, you name it.
Even though his little brother isn’t old enough to drive yet, that doesn’t stop Belch from giving him driving lessons.
But bet your life he threatens him before taking off. “I swear to fuck though man, if you crash my car, I will end you. Okay, now put it in reverse. Let’s go”
Belch watches sports with him and even plays in the backyard, as well.
Belch acts as if he’s his coach to prepare him for the school’s team.
He also teaches him how to properly lift weights and spots him, too.
Belch told him “the ladies love a man with muscles, so to keep lifting bro.”
Speaking of girls, Belch was the one who gave him ‘the talk’... in very elaborate and explicit detail leaving his brother shocked, disgusted, and intrigued all at once.
Although he does hang out with his brother from time to time, sometimes Belch chooses friends over family and takes off for long periods of time.
Belch for the most part tries to be patient with him, but still gives his brother tough love as a form of preparing him for the real world.
Overall, Belch is a pretty decent big brother.
He means well but sometimes misses the mark.
Henry With A Little Sister-
Their father works long shifts, often resulting in an absence in their home life.
Henry’s dad basically tells him he’s fully in charge of his little sister.
Henry acts pissed off about that like she’s a bother and interrupts his life but deep down, it makes him feel important for once in his life.
Henry is both very strict and protective over her.
He’s also very controlling such as who she’s allowed to talk to or what she’s allowed to wear.
Nothing short or low cut is allowed. She better not even think about talking back, either,
Henry doesn't have much patience for anything and his temper is even worse.
For example- Her short legs means she walks slower than the rest of them.
Henry rolls his eyes and ends up dragging her by her wrist or sometimes just throwing her over his shoulder because he can’t stand waiting for her.
When it comes time for school, Henry makes sure everyone knows she’s a Bowers. If anyone (child or adult) even just so much as looked at her funny, Henry is throwing hands.
Speaking of school, Henry doesn’t help her with any bit of projects or homework. “Don’t fuckin’ ask me! You do it, or don’t, I don't really give a shit.”
When it comes time for dinner, Henry makes simple stuff like peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, mac n’ cheese, or sometimes just fixes a bowl of cereal. But he always makes her clean up the mess / dishes after.
If she talks back, Henry has no problems getting in her face and yelling loudly.
Sometimes when his anger gets the best of him, he’ll smack her across the face.
He stiffens up when he sees the tears form in her eyes. Sometimes he just walks away and doesn’t want to deal with it, and other times he stands there stiffly and gives her an awkward hug.
“Sorry kid. I didn’t mean to hit you. You just pissed me the fuck off.”
Henry would never let anyone ever see this but occasionally he gives her a quick kiss to the side of her cheek when he’s feeling extra guilty. 
Similar to Patrick, Henry loves to get on her nerves.
Tripping her as she walks by.
Embarrassing her in front of the other guys just to see her blush.
Smacking her off the head as he walks by- her angry face makes Henry laugh.
Tickling her to make her admit something or as a form of punishment because he knows she hates that.
Barges in her room without knocking first.
Warns her she's never, ever allowed to have a boyfriend. And if she has a crush on either Vic, Belch, or Patrick...she’s dead meat.
Won’t allow her to drink alcohol or smoke. If she sneaks and does it, Henry teaches her a ‘lesson’.
“Find you wanna drink? Then here, take it. But now you have to drink the entire thing.”
He smirks and watches her get sick from the alcohol thinking that actually taught her a lesson and will deter her from it in the future.
Speaking of drinking-
When their dad comes home drunk, Henry is the one to take all his shit just to protect her because deep down he does care about her even though he calls her a “little fucking shit” daily.
Henry With A Little Brother-
In Henry's warped mind, his brother is a guy too, so he doesn’t need to be coddled like his little sister does.
If Henry has to withstand hits and verbal abuse, then his little brother should too. “Why should he get a pass?” Henry scoffs.
Henry gives him a lot of tough love.
He tries to make him ‘stronger’ by saying some really rotten shit to him. “Builds character, get used to it, kid.”
Henry does teach his brother how to fight though. “Put those stupid fuckin’ books down pussy. Books can’t teach you how to be a fucking man, but throwing punches will.”
Henry gave his little brother his own knife for his birthday.
He told him since he’s a Bowers, he's a target so it will come in handy~
Gives his brother “advice” on girls and sex; telling him which girls around town ‘put out’ the most.
One day when his brother asked Henry about a particular girl Henry responded with: “Ooh yeah, (random girl’s name), the only thing good about her is her pussy. Face is busted.”
Overall, Henry isn’t too bad towards his brother but once again, when his temper is raging, no one is safe from him.
Vic With A Little Sister-
Overly cautious and protective of her. He’s basically like a helicopter parent.
When the guys are swearing around her, he covers her ears and tells the guys to cut it out.
“Guys! Language!”
“I’m only a few years younger than you guys, I’m not a child!” she retorts.
Patrick, being classic creepy Patrick circles around her. “Just give it a few more years babe. Based on how your mom looks...” Patrick licks his lips envisioning Vic’s mother until Vic smacks him in the balls making Patrick hunch over in pain.
Vic likes to keep her in sight so right after school, he goes straight to her locker and makes sure she rides home with them, too.
When they get out of the car to bully some kids, Vic tells her to stay put. He doesn’t want her involved in anything.
When walking through the woods to the quarry, He always has a hand around her upper arm for support when climbing down the embankment.
He watches her like a hawk when swimming, so paranoid something will happen. Again, think helicopter parent
While he’s sweet for the most part, there’s times he just loses his temper.
He’ll explode and begin yelling at her, only inches from her face.
Sometimes when she does something really, really out of line, Vic will shove her into Henry and Patrick.
“Here guys, teach this little bitch a lesson for me. And don’t go easy on her.” Vic says walking off to calm down.
A part of him feels a little guilty when he sees her cry but other times he feels it’s justified.
He isn’t overly affectionate with her around the guys, the most he does is put an arm around her shoulder.
Sometimes sneaks behind her and tasers her sides and laughs when she jumps and collapses to the ground.
But when no one is around, he 100% gives the best hugs.
When she’s going to a sleepover at a girl-friend's house, Vic tells her to be safe and mumbles, “love you.”
Back at home before bed, Vic will tease her for being paranoid as she makes her way around the house, triple checking to make sure all the windows and doors are locked.
“What? Afraid the boogeyman is gonna getcha?” Vic mocks.
If she’s having a nightmare and calls for Vic, he’ll come and sit on the bedroom floor next to her bed until she falls asleep again.
Vic With A Little Brother-
Vic isn’t as protective over his little brother as he is with their little sister; but he still cares for him.
He just feels that his brother is able to hold his own while his sister needs more protection/ guidance.
He let’s his brother tag along with the guys. They all don’t mind. If anything, they refer to his little brother as Vic number 2.
He genuinely listens to his brother’s interests. Okay.. sometimes he zones out when he drones on and on but he always acts interested.
Vic is pretty book smart so he helps his brother with school work, especially in math.
Tries to make his brother more confident when it comes to talking / picking up girls.
Basically acts as his wing man.
The guys try to give his brother tips on how to pick up girls...Vic usually tells him to ignore everything they say because all that's gonna earn him is a slap in the face.
Tells him not to listen to Henry or Patrick for girl advice.. EVER.
He does teach his brother how to fight though.
Just because Vic is one of the sweeter ones in the gang; that doesn’t change the fact that he’s in a gang to begin with…
When his brother told him he was being picked on, Vic taught him how to fight, but also got involved himself.
Nothing like sending an intimidating message to a few assholes.
When Vic and his brother fight with each other, he doesn’t hold back just because that’s his little brother.
Overall, they get along for the most part and Vic is a pretty decent older brother to his siblings.
212 notes · View notes
tommyspeakycap · 3 years
Note
Can you do a jealous John stones please 🥺🥺🖤
jealous stonesy coming right up! feel like john is the quick to get jealous type :) this gif does things to me
Black Tie Turbulence
Tumblr media
John’s hand is both a constant and comforting presence on your lower back from the moment you both stepped out the car. He’s careful with his feet to not step on the bottom of your beautiful long dress that was matched in colour to that of his delicately placed pocket square.
“Aren’t you two a sight?”
John leads the turn so you can both face Kyle and Annie, also both dressed to the nines and offering each of you a glass of sparkling champagne. “The heels are already a killer,” you joke, making Annie giggle immediately. Heels were a must for almost all black ties, but more so when your boyfriend is an absolute giant.
It was a charity ball that a good few England and their players had been invited to, mostly in order to try and sweet talk the donors into giving more of their money than they originally would. You had gotten used to these events and liked to think you had actually gotten very good at sweetly chatting the vendors into emptying the metaphorical pockets. John wasn’t the world biggest fan of these events, but he knew they had to come hand in hand with the joy of doing what he loves each and every day. Plus, he gets to see you all dressed up. That’s good enough for him.
“I’m gonna go see if I can grab another drink.” You tell John, leaning up to press a chaste kiss into his jaw. He nods, eyes following you intently as you walk off with your heels clinking and dress swaying. “Earth to Stones.” Harry Kane waves, clicking his fingers to get the defenders attention. John shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “He’s fucking whipped, mate.” Kyle laughs heartily, eliciting similar laughter from Kane and his wife.
You stood up at the bar as the tuxedo glad bartender went off to collect your order for you when an older man appeared next to you. He too was looking to order a drink. “I hear the sambuca shots are exquisite this year.” You suggest with a teasing grin and a sparkle in your eyes, very successfully gathering the full attention of the silver fox who you had turned to face. He chuckles, eyes meeting yours as his tongue hits out to lick his lips. He was probably in his mid fifties, so you didn’t feel gross for a little bit of flirting to get some cash for a children’s charity.
“I’m just joking,” you note softly, “But the whiskey is fantastic.”
He nods, a smile overtaking his pink lips and stretching his face to fill a happy 60 years worth of laughter lines. He seemed truly sweet, not that you were at all interested. But he wasn’t sleezy, didn’t have a wedding ring in and looked a little younger than you knew he was. A little bit like Patrick Dempsey, actually. “A woman after my own heart.” He responds, flagging down the waiter for two whiskey’s.
As you got to talking, you learned he was a CEO. You had always been in awe of the kind of money that John had immediate access to in his bank account, what with you still paying off student loans and such until John took went behind your back and payed them off with an insistence that “his girl shouldn’t be worrying about anything ever.” But this man had even more money than that, you suspected. He just screamed out overpriced whiskey, fancy holidays, houses on every continent and boatloads of cars that you hadn’t even heard of. Yet, he seemed very sweet. You told him about some of the work you had gotten up to on a year abroad doing aid work during your second year of uni and he had been extremely curious about it, genuinely listening which shocked you significantly.
John would have said it was because the way that you spoke, completely captivatingly as you got lost in your own stories. You made people feel as though they were part of the adventure, drawing them in and leaving them hanging on every word. Most would claim that you were the only reason John still got invited to these black tie charity events because he certainly wasn’t so good at wooing older men out of their money.
“You’re definitely a whiskey lady, then.” You nod your head at the statement from the older man, a small laugh as you remove your hand from his arm that you had reached for when he made you ‘laugh’ with his last joke. “Mhm…well travelled, beautiful, very elegant and clearly incredibly loved.” You furrow your brows slightly his words, eyeing him carefully in search of their meaning. He leans in slightly, his eyes soft with a kind smile of his face. He nods his head behind you, “He’s been watching you since the moment I stepped up next to you.”
Your eyes land on John when you turn around, trying to look as though he wasn’t watching the interaction intently with those fiery blue eyes. You giggle to yourself with a soft sigh. “You made an old man feel incredibly young again,” he begins with genuine joy in his eyes. “You could change the world with that heart. It’s that reason and that reason only that I’ll be making such a hefty donation. None of this wining and dining, fancy ballroom party they’ve thrown. Passion,” he pauses, “Your kind of passion for better is what this is all about. But I reckon you best get back to the man who looks like he’s going to eat me alive.”
His words were touching and incredibly sweet, but the end was also true. You could hear your boyfriend’s footsteps approaching at a pace that might make you question his fifa rating from last year. You turn yourself back around to offer a thank you for the donation in your name, but all you see is that head of salt and pepper hair disappearing off into the crowd. John has suddenly remembered why he hates these things so much. You’re very clever at getting exactly what was needed from these men and you had no shame at all for flirting with them. If you had it, why not use it? You always said.
Despite knowing it meant nothing, it still sent John absolutely crazy and though you’d never admit it, that was one of the biggest reasons you did it. He used to bring you these things as his friend before you had started dating, which was very coincidentally where he burst and told you he loved you when you had asked what had irritated him so much afterwards.
His jealousy wasn’t something you exactly regarded as a demon, a little bit more of a treat.
Seeing him hot and bothered, angry flush to his cheeks with his jaw set firm and his muscles tense in irritation. It was beautifully hot.
“Flirting with older men again, eh?” He says sharply, his eyes burning a hole in you with the fire of their irritation. You shrug nonchalantly and take a sip of your drink. “Not a big deal,” you hum softly in response, watching carefully as anger flickers through his eyes. He turns his back to you with a scoff and a shake of his head, grumbling something under his breath.
“We’re going.” He states. You roll your eyes. “Oh don’t be like that, John.”
“Like what, eh?” He presses, still not turning to look at you.
“All angry and shit, it’s not a big dea-“
John isn’t having it. He whips around quickly, using his large body to press you back into the bar and takes the drink from your hand with ease when you still, enjoying a sip of it before he places it down on the bar, out of the way easily with those long arms. His hands come down to hold onto the dark mahogany surface of the bar top, trapping you with your back against it between his arms and your front against his chest. “Not a big deal?” He challenges, being careful to wedge his thigh in between your legs, he presses it up against you.
“It’s all for charity, John.”
Your face remains unchanged as you look into his eyes, darkened by lust with his pupils swallowing the blue of his iris.
“I don’t care,” he rumbles, his voice low, reverberating through your ear where he had loved his mouth to, his lips and hot breath tickling your neck with each word he speaks. You open your mouth to response, but John sees this and ceases the opportunity he has primed himself for so you can’t speak before he does. The words are lost on your tongue, dying before they ever have the chance to exist when he flexes the muscles of the thigh between your legs, tightening and pushing it up against you. He swallows your squeaky whimper with his mouth over yours.
“You’re mine.” He growls against your lips, continuing to make his presence between your legs known, very very known. He does pull back k slightly though, his darkened smirk flattering to a soft smile as he tilts his head to take in your rosy cheeks. “My sweet, kind girl.” He coos, lifting both his hands to cup your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over the soft surface. You giggle at his words, blush deepening. “Seriously though, love,” he hums, “Hate the action, love the cause.”
That prompts another giggle, your head falling to rest on his chest gently. His hands strokes over your hair softly as his lips press down on the top of your head.
“Not mad?” You query, listening in to the soft and slow thud of his heart against your cheek. John has moved you effortlessly to the ballroom dance floor from the bar with only a few backwards steps, letting you lean in against his chest again. “Little bit, of course.” He replies.
John has his arms wrapped tightly around your body to keep you flush against him in every way, swaying back and forth in time with the music.
To any onlookers, it would appear as normal, mundane and incredibly sweet to see the relatively young couple enjoying each other so close on one of his few nights off. Truly, it was adorable when you factored out the reason for the proximity John keeps to your body.
“John?” You lilt, your voice a daring misfire between sweet and sultry. “Mhm?” He rumbles in response, keeping his cheek rested on the top of your head. “Your hard-on is pressing into my stomach.” He chuckles to himself, your words too quiet for anyone else anywhere near to eavesdrop on but enough to flush his cheeks ever so slightly.
“And I would much rather it was in some far more pleasurable places.”
John does not need those words explained to him, nor does he waste even a moment leading you hastily off towards the exit of the ballroom, sure that he could find somewhere in this venue suitable enough to let everybody hear just who you belong to.
212 notes · View notes
1-800-amortentia · 3 years
Text
teen romance (sirius black x reader)
summary: sirius talks with y/n. (marauders era)
word count: 1k
genre: angsty ass smut enjoy u pervs!1!1
a/n: ib a random patrick hocksetter imagine i read lol. 
masterlist!
Tumblr media
“ go away” i mumbled at siruis as he followed me towards the gryffindor common room. i had been avoiding him for about a week, and he was quick to notice. 
“no, i want to talk to you.” he replied, quickening his pace. i stopped walking and turned around as the stair case we walked on started to move. 
“well, i dont want to talk to you-” 
“why not.” he asked, stepping up a stair, and looking down at me. i sighed, slowly beginning to walk up the stairs again once we started moving again. 
“love where are you going?”
“my dorm.” i said, before saying the password and quickly walking through the portrait hole and into the completely empty common room. 
“but i haven’t gone down on you yet.” he says. i can hear the smirk in his voice. i scoff, turning around.
“it’s not like you don’t have other options.”
“what’s that supposed to mean?”
“just saying you regularly have sex with multiple other people besides me.” i say, turning around to face him, looking up, since he was at least 6 inches taller than me. his deep grey eyes meet my e/c orbs that are now glossed over. 
“listen-” 
“no. now will you please leave.” i say. he gently grabs my jaw, kissing my lips. i feel my knees go weak as he brings his other hand around my waist. 
“s-siruis.” i whisper as his lips go farther down my neck. 
“you love me, y/n. admit it.” he mumbles, sticking his hand up my skirt, meeting the hem of my panties. 
“stop” i say sternly, pushing him away from me. he obliges, stepping back slightly. he caresses my cheek with his thumb. 
“what?” i ask him as he stares deeper into my eyes. he smirks, placing his arm against the cold stone wall behind me. i can smell his cologne. a deep amber and wood smell.
“just thinking about how beautiful you look riding me” he whispers. my breath hitches. i roll my eyes, stepping away from him. he grabs my wrist quickly. 
“let...let go siruis.” i say. his grip gets tighter.
“no love. im tired of watching you walk away and get your heart broken” 
“then stop breaking it” i say, pulling my wrist away. he sighs, running a hand threw his hair. 
“i’m not! you’re doing it to yourself by giving yourself to other guys who dont love you the way i do. this is the last time i’m letting you go y/n.” siruis says, pulling me back into his chest. he presses his lips back into mine, picking me up and gently pressing me against the wall. 
“how do i make you feel love? huh? everytime i kiss you, or when i fuck you?” he asks. i stare at him. 
“it feels good” i mumble. 
“exactly, so why do you hang around asshole guys who will never be able to make you feel as good as i will?” he asks. i feel my heart drop. 
“b-because they distract me from how hard it is to to not be with you.” i whisper. he looks at me for a minute. 
“then why not be together?” 
“because you hurt me siruis! it’s so easy for you to stand here, look me in the eyes and lie to me.” siruis clenches his jaw. 
“lily told me about maggie. how you kicked james out of your dorm and she sucked you off” you said. 
“but i wouldnt have lied if you asked me i would’ve told you the truth.” he says, his voice cracking, meaning he was about to cry. which never ever happened. the only other time you saw him cry was when he stopped seeing his parents and he spent christmas alone. 
“okay maybe you didn’t lie but it still hurt sirius. you still hurt me” i whisper. 
“i know” he mumbles. he bends back down, reconnecting our lips. 
“god you drive me insane, y/n” he groans, setting his hands on my thighs. i moan as he connects his lips to my jaw, making my knees. 
“siruis...” i moan. he sucks hard on my sweet spot. 
“do you love me?” he asks, still working at my neck. do i? yes, i do. more than anything.
“y-yes” i whimper. he picks me up, setting my legs against his hips as he countines sucking and kissing my neck. 
“say it. tell me how much you love me doll” he mumbles. 
“sirius i love you so much, god please.....” i moan as he moves from my neck to my chest. 
“i know what i do how i drive you crazy and make you all hot and bothered in class” he says, dragging his hand towards my heat as i blush. he slowly slips his middle finger into me, flicking it up and down. my breathing quickly fastened, my head falling into his neck as he pins me harder against the wall. 
“i know you think about me all the time. when you’re with lily, or in class, or showering or eating. you can never get me to leave that pretty little head of yours.” he says, speeding up his fingers. i moan in response, making him smile. 
“you’re so pretty” he whispers. i gasp as he goes faster, if that was even possible. 
“i-im close” i whimpered. 
“let go for me” he whispers into my ear, my head still set in his neck. i oblige, feeling myself finish through a series of whimpers and groans. my breathing is still heavy as siruis lifts my chin revealing my pink tinted face with his clean hand. he wipes his finger on his pants. 
“you’re so beautiful love.” he whispers. i smile as he kisses my cheek. 
“i love you so much” he whispers, kissing my other cheek, then my forehead, and finally my lips. 
“i love you too” i whisper. 
“so what are we now?” he asks. i pretend to think for a moment. 
“boyfriend and girlfriend?” 
“nah love, you’re my wife now” he says, setting me down on my feet, lacing our hands together as we walk out of the common room to find our friends. 
440 notes · View notes
twinklelilstarkey · 3 years
Note
hiii can you do angst 3 with nolan please 🥰
"You shouldn't be here." - Nolan Patrick
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It has been a rough week. You feel like all your movements consist of you crawling in and out of your bed. Your pillow is constantly wet with your tears and your chest is permanently tightening in the void of nothing but heartbreak.
You don’t exactly need to leave your apartment since all of your classes are still online, and your cabinets are still full enough for you to survive for a little bit longer. So, honestly, if you were to leave, it would be out of a spontaneous decision, something you’re sure won’t happen any soon.
The only bit of fresh air you’ve caught in the last few days was when you opened your bathroom window to get your shower’s steam out of the small room, yet other than that... just nothing.
Today marks 7 days since you have broken up with your boyfriend of a year and a half, Nolan.
The reason behind your break up is a complete result of the snowball effect. It all started with small fights which always ended with you apologizing and him sort of forgiving you, and with small fight after small fight, a whole shouting argument was bad enough to mark the end of your relationship.
Nolan said so much, that he now admits that not even 1% of it is true, but it was enough to break your heart and force you to walk away.
It was definitely a break up. It was no Hollywood movie argument with an open ending in which the main characters never actually say the words. You two said it, and you two agreed on ending everything and cutting all tights right there. Right in the middle of his apartment.
You feel miserable and you’ve caught yourself trying to call him at crazy hours of the night a few times already. You never ended up actually doing it, but there was a time that it was close enough for it to ring one time - not even enough for it to even reach his phone.
Your week consists in at least 3 full days of classes, which does sound awful, but you feel like everything just gets worse when you’re left to stay by yourself and with your reality. All because even though you’re not listening to what your teachers are saying, you’ve got at least some sort of noise to occupy your mind.
But, god, nights are the worst. Looking out of your window to stare at the city view is not the same anymore, having sweet or salty sneaky snacks is not the same anymore, watching your favorite show under all your blankets is not the same anymore. You’re suffering so much that you can’t find anything even slightly enjoyable.
Now, Nolan, on the other hand, has to leave his apartment. He has to work, go to the ice rink, and practice every morning. And, in reality, no matter how much his coaches are screaming in his face, he just can’t find a way to fix whatever he’s doing wrong.
For the first days, no friend of his knew about the breakup, so, they just thought he was just going a little crazy over a bad hangover or whatever. But that didn’t last long. It only took TK to ask him if the offer for the double date still stood for everyone to notice.
His silence and serious expression made his best friend frown and even stop what he was doing. He couldn’t believe he was seeing.
Travis honestly thought that Nolan hadn’t heard him for a good few seconds, but as soon as he went to make sure, Nolan just stood up and left.
He wasn’t reacting like you were. He wasn’t crying every time his brain brought him back to you, he was just staring into nothing and letting his mind work free through it. Battling his feelings away.
You still watched the Flyers’ games, even though he wasn’t spending much time on the ice, and you still wore his jersey like any other night.
Sleeping after those nights were even harder. Today is one of them.
You turn on your bed, eyeing the large window beside your bed and all the lights of the city you’re blessed to see from high above, and your mind soon travels to all the memories you own and protect.
All the times you cuddled with a sleeping or just sleepy Nolan after good or rough games while staring at the calming night. All the times you enjoyed late mornings in bed, talking about life and laughing at absolutely everything.
A soft grin plays over your lips at the light-hearted memories but at the same time, it breaks at the realization it is not your truth anymore.
You sniffle softly and blink your tears away, bringing your hands to your warm cheeks to wipe down the wetness you’ve grown so familiar to.
A soft knock on your front door fills your apartment and you quickly sit up in surprise. It’s 3 am.
It’s way too late for your landlord to come over now, right? Sinks don’t usually get fixed at this time of night... Right?
The knock repeats itself and you sigh. It won’t hurt to check.
You stand up from your bed, ignoring the mess you’re leaving behind, and you bring your hood over your head. On your way down the hallway, you wipe your face one more time to make sure that no tears are to be shown to anyone, and as soon as you’re done, you’re standing by the door.
You unlock it slowly and Nolan feels a sudden wave of cold hit the walls of his stomach as anxiety becomes evident to him, again.
The door opens slowly, creaking slightly in the silence of the night, and your eyes meet up at the same time.
You feel frozen in place while Nolan is just lost for words. He hasn’t seen you for more than he has ever before and that made his body almost go into shock.
“Wha-” You try to ask but your voice cracks a bit, “What are you doing here?”
He stands silent for a few seconds and he continuous to stare you down, analyzing your face. Eyes slightly swollen, as well as your lips, your soft sniffling. You’ve been crying.
“I wanted to talk.” He finally speaks, his deep voice breaking through the hallway harshly.
“You shouldn’t be here.” You tell him.
“I know.” He agrees, “But... Can I please come in?”
You bite the inside of your lip in thought and your hand slides over the side of the door, grabbing both of your attentions.
Hesitatingly, you take a step back and swing your door open further, giving Nolan enough space to walk in comfortingly.
He’s careful with his steps, and soon the door closes behind him again. Your apartment is still extremely comforting and warm to him. And for a second, it almost made him forget what he was doing there in the first place.
“Want to go sit?” You whisper.
He looks over his shoulder to look at you and gives you a small nod. You break your glance and decide to be the first one to walk towards the couch.
Nolan follows you and soon the two of you are seated beside one another.
Even though with straight serious looks on your faces, you two have racing hearts and sweaty hands. Everything that could make their bodies react to the situation in the middle of all this silence.
“Did I wake you up?” He firstly asks and you just shake your head.
You look down at your hands over your lap and unconsciously, you pull your sleeves over your hands, hiding them from your own eyes.
Nolan decides to start.
“I shouldn’t have said all those things.” Nolan says as he also looks down at your, now covered, hands. “I was mad and I made all of... that, up.”
The words slowly register in your mind and you force yourself to look at him in the face.
“I know it’s stupid.” He says before you can even try to talk, “I know I shouldn’t have even fought back. You were right and I was just being an idiot.”
He shakes his head, staring back into your confused eyes.
“Nol-”
“I don’t know why I even did it. It was like I didn’t want to be in the wrong when I was. It was so childish of me...” He continues, “And all the things that I called you were ju-just awful. And I want you to know what I didn’t mean any of it and that not even one of them is tru-”
He sighs in desperation, finding it ridiculous how he found himself lost in his own thoughts and just rambled all his worries in one breath. Your hands finally stop playing on your lap.
“I wish I could take everything back.” He says more slowly and calmly, “And just act like none of it happened.”
“Me too.” You agree.
He stays silent and his chest tightens at the idea of this not going as he wants to.
“I just... I’m sorry.” He whispers the last part. “You don’t have to forgive me...” He pauses, “Now or-or even ever, but I just want you to know that I am so, so, so sorry.”
You stare back at him as his words fill your ears and his soft expression of pure hurt is all that emphasizes your overthinking.
“And...” He starts again, almost as if saying sorry for talking with his eyes, “I’m also sorry for only talking to you a week later. It-it’s stupid of me. Again.”
The corners of your lips lift slightly at his last words and you swallow harshly, preparing yourself to talk. Yet you stop yourself as you don’t exactly know what to say.
You look down, biting your lip in thought, and quickly, your hands lays over Nolan’s. And even over your hoodie’s thick material, you can feel how cold they are from standing outside at the crack of dawn.
“I’m sorry too.” You whisper to him.
“You don’t need to-”
“I do.” You look back up, “I walked away during a fight and in some way, I feel like it was my fault that you exploded the way you did.”
Nolan shakes his head and you peek your fingers from your sleeves, interlacing them with Nolan’s cold ones. You bring your hand up around your conjoined hands and trace slightly over his fingers to warm them.
“Well, then I forgive you.” Nolan says to you, following your gaze down to your hands. “I really do, even if I think you didn’t do anything wrong.”
A soft grin grows over your lips and you look up at him.
“Than I forgive you too.” You say, “Just- Please, promise me that we’ll never go for that long without talking or trying to sort things out again.” You cringe slightly at your request as if there’s a possibility that he will reject.
“I promise.” He says right away.
“And that we’ll never walk away like that or break up like that.”
“That too. I promise.”
A smile finally breaks through your features and soon also did Nolan’s. You bring your hand up to his face and with a quick movement, you cup his cheek and lay your lips over his.
The kiss is simple, more of a peck if anything, but it’s longer than a normal peck.
You two pull away and Nolan is quick to kiss your cheek a couple of times before actually leaning back and look at you.
“I think we should go to bed.” You tell him with a soft smile, “It’s almost 4.”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
328 notes · View notes
dumdumsun · 3 years
Text
Of Starlight
A/N: The last two chapters of this story (19 and 20) are currently being written y’all. I wrote this book faster than I thought I would...
Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, death/dying, sexual assault
Word Count: 2176
————————————
Chapter 4: Moved On, Too
Tumblr media
“Okay, but just so we’re clear on the finer details,” Klaus started as he and Five exited the latter’s room, gaining the attention of (Y/N), who was in her own bedroom. “I just gotta go into this place and pretend to be your dear old dad, correct?”
“Yeah. Something like that.” Five answered as (Y/N) joined them in the hallway.
“What’s our cover story?” Klaus questioned, looking between the two teenagers. Five furrowed his brows and shook his head a little in confusion.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“I mean, was I really young when I had you? Like, sixteen? Like, young and…,” Klaus dramatically placed his hands over his chest. “terribly misguided?”
“Sure.”
“Your mother, that slut. Whoever she was. We met at…” He trailed off in thought. (Y/N) thought to humor them a little.
“The disco?”
“The disco! That’s, good, (Y/N)! Okay? Remember that,” He excitedly agreed, Five muttering a ‘you’re unbelievable’ to the girl as Klaus continued on with his story. “Oh, my god, the sex was amaaaazing.”
“What a disturbing glimpse into that thing you call a brain.” Five began walking away. (Y/N) followed him as Klaus stayed back in thought.
“Wait, what about (Y/N)?” He asked, the two turning back to him. “Who is she gonna be?”
“She’s my friend.” Five plainly answered, Klaus gasping.
“Or girlfriend.”
“No.”
“Oh, you two don’t have to kiss! We gotta sell it and you two have way too much chemistry to be just friends.” He pointed between the two, (Y/N) and Five rolling their eyes in irritation. She’d be lying if she said she disagreed, and it wouldn’t have bothered her to pretend to be Five’s girlfriend, but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Especially not now.
Huffing, Five looked to his brother again. “If I say yes, will you shut up and come on?”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At Meritech Prosthetics, the three Hargreeves were sat in front of the executive’s desk. Well, (Y/N) and Klaus were sitting, Five was standing in between them, his jaw severely clenched as he listened to the man speak, “Like I said to your son and his girlfriend earlier, any information about the prosthetics we build is strictly confidential. Without the client’s consent, I simply can’t help you.”
“Well, we can’t get consent if you don’t give us a name.” Five grit his teeth as he leaned forward.
“Well, that’s not my problem. Sorry. Now, there’s really nothing more I can do, so-”
“And what about my consent?” Klaus suddenly spoke up, the three turning to him with furrowed brows.
“Excuse me?” The executive questioned.
“Who gave you permission… to lay your hands… on my son?” He took a shaky breath and pointed at Five. Both the executive and the boy let out a ‘what?’. “You heard me.”
“I didn’t touch your son.”
“Oh, really?” Klaus stood up from his chair, and (Y/N) knew what he was going to do next was not going to be good. “Well, then how did he get that swollen lip, then?”
“He doesn’t have a swollen-” The man was cut off when Klaus struck Five in the mouth. The boy grunted on impact and (Y/N) quickly stood, in total shock. Did Klaus really just hit his brother across the face? The Seance turned to the man and leaned forward against the desk.
“I want it. Name, please. Now.”
“You’re crazy.” The executive pointed up at him, receiving a chuckle in response. (Y/N) went to Five’s side and silently checked his lip. It wasn’t bleeding too bad, but he definitely had a mark from it. He gently placed a hand on her wrist to let her know that he was fine.
“You got no idea,” Klaus then picked up a snowglobe that was sitting on the desk and smiled at it. “‘Peace on Earth’. That’s so sweet.” He remarked before smashing his head through it. Everyone jumped as glass shattered and fell from his bleeding head, a piece getting stuck in a strand of his hair. “God, that hurt!” He groaned.
The man quickly picked up the phone. “I’m calling secur- What are you doing?!” He exclaimed as Klaus snatched the phone from him and held it up to his ear, a gasp leaving his lips.
“There’s been an assault… in Mr Big’s office, and we need security, now. Schnell!” As he hung up the phone, the man could only stare up at him in fear. Klaus sighed and seemingly shook off the pain in his head. “Now, here’s what’s gonna happen, Grant.”
“It’s… Lance-”
“In about sixty seconds, two security guards are gonna burst through that door, and they’re gonna see a whole lot of blood, and they’re gonna wonder ‘what the hell happened?’,” (Y/N) glanced over at Five who, despite his bleeding lip, was smirking at Lance. “And we’re gonna tell them that you… beat the shit out of us,” And just when they thought he was done, he quickly grabbed (Y/N) by her wrist and yanked her to his side. “And that you inappropriately touched my son’s girlfriend.”
“What?!” Lance and (Y/N) exclaimed. Klaus gently pushed her behind him and patted her head.
“It’s alright, sweetie, you can say it…” He gently spoke. It was silent for a minute and Lance was frantically glancing between her and Klaus. Eventually, she cleared her throat.
“I-I told him to stop.”
“Oh… You’re gonna do great in prison, Grant. Trust me, I’ve been there. Little piece of chicken like you. Oh, my god, you’re gonna get passed around like a…,” Klaus circled his hips. “You’re just- You’re gonna do great. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Jesus, you are a real sick bastard.” Lance shakily spoke as he looked around at the three. Klaus simply nodded at him.
“Thank you.” He whispered, spitting a glass shard out of his mouth.
It was safe to say that Lance was convinced to give them the information they needed. He led them to a desk and started going through a drawer, occasionally glancing up at Klaus, who was sitting on the desk and sweetly smiling at him. (Y/N) was sitting on the desk on the other side as Five simply sat in a chair in front of him. Finding the folder he needed, Lance started looking through it. “Oh, that’s strange.”
“What?” Five frowned.
“Uh, the eye. It hasn’t been purchased by a client yet.” The executive explained as Klaus hopped off the desk and got in his personal space.
“What? What do you mean?”
“Well, uh, our logs say that the eye with that serial number…,” He trailed off and was clearly uncomfortable by Klaus stalking behind him. Lance frowned as he scanned the information. “This can’t be right. It hasn’t even been manufactured yet. Where did you get that eye?”
Five sighed and locked eyes with (Y/N), whose were staring back in concern.
As the three walked out of the lab, Five and Klaus started to get into an argument about why the eye was important, but (Y/N) couldn’t have been bothered to listen at the moment. She was wondering how Michael and Jada were doing. Have they eaten yet? Of course, they have. Mom’s taking good care of them. Well, what about Michael? Is he getting homework done? I really hope he isn’t slacking off...
She stopped when she noticed Klaus and Five weren’t walking with her anymore. She turned to see them on the stairs in front of the lab.
“Hey, you know, I’ve just realized why you’re so uptight,” Klaus gestured towards his crotch. “You must be horny as hell!” He laughed. (Y/N) contemplated whether or not she really wanted to listen to this, but joined them anyway. “All those years by yourself. It’s gotta screw with your head, being alone.”
“Well…,” Five started quietly. “I wasn’t alone.” This caught both their attention. Klaus raised a brow.
“Oh? Pray tell.”
“Her name was Delores,” He told after a second of silence. “We were together for over thirty years.”
“Whatever happened to the clone I sent after you?” (Y/N) questioned. “Did it get left behind before you jumped? I told it to look after you.”
“Must’ve left it in 2002… It was just me and Delores throughout the apocalypse.”
Delores. That name again… sounded so familiar. (Y/N) was honestly very happy for Five. Happy that he wasn’t alone, happy that he’d moved on from whatever they had as kids. She’d done it, after all. So, she couldn’t have asked him to not do the same. Though, she couldn’t help the pit that formed in her stomach at the thought of it. She snapped out of her thoughts when she heard Klaus yelling about his money. Only then did she notice that Five had left in a cab. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and took her wallet out of her jacket pocket, handing a twenty to her brother.
“Buy yourself something pretty.”
“You are a saint, sister dear.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Returning to the Academy, (Y/N) found Allison in one of the upstairs rooms, sitting on the windowsill and smoking a cigarette. She tilted her head with a smile before silently walking up to her. “Hey, Ally.”
“Oh, shit,” Allison jumped and turned to her sister. “Jesus, (Y/N), you can’t do that.”
“May I?” She held her hand out for the cig, Allison raising a brow before handing it over. She watched her sister take a long drag as she sat beside her on the windowsill. (Y/N) raised a brow at her. “What?” She exhaled the smoke.
“Nothing… It’s just that… I thought you were trying to quit.”
“Yeah, Anthony would’ve wanted me to… but I really need it right now,” She heavily sighed before staring up at the night sky. “I miss my babies…”
“That makes two of us,” Allison shook her head and took back the cigarette once it was handed back to her. “God, what I would give to know how she’s doing…”
“Why don’t you call?”
“Because Patrick is being a grade A asshole… He wouldn’t let me speak to her.”
“What an ass,” (Y/N) shook her head. “If Anthony and I had ever split up, I would’ve never kept the kids from him… What’d you ever seen in him?”
“I don’t know…,” Allison leaned her head back, eyes sliding to her sister. “Speaking of rocky relationships… What’s going on with you and Five?” Her question made (Y/N) quickly sit up. “Oh, come on, you two were smitten when we were kids! Everyone knew it.”
(Y/N) shook her head and plucked the white stick out of Allison’s hand. “We’re not starting with this, Ally. Nothing is going on. We’ve both moved on from that shit.”
“That shit? That ‘shit’ was love and it’s still there. Neither of you truly moved on.”
“Well, Five definitely did. Told me about a woman he was with for years. Delores…”
“Oh, Delores… You think she’s cute?” Allison teased, receiving a shove. She laughed and shoved (Y/N) back. “I’m being serious!”
“You know she is, Five wouldn’t go with some hag, even if she was the last woman on Earth… Probably a babe, even at fifty-eight…”
“You sound… so jealous right now.” There was a long silence between the two, Allison waiting patiently for her sister to respond, but she laughed at what she said next,
“Piss off, Allison.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The wind howled as Five spun his body around, still taking in what was left around him. Right by his side was (Y/N)’s clone, seemingly observing the current state he was in. Its eyes moved all around his face, then to his current line of vision. A single hand stuck out of the debris not too far away from him, holding what looked to be a bloody eyeball. Quickly moving forward, Five bent down and pried it out of the dead hand and wiped off the blood before looking to who the hand belonged to. His stomach dropped when he got his answer.
Luther -- or who he assumed was Luther, older and dead, crushed under rubble. Moving around the area, he found Allison, Diego and Klaus in the same state. All older, all buried under remains, and all dead. He had been staring at Klaus’s lifeless body when he heard rustling from a little ways away. Turning in the direction, he saw the clone moving some bricks around. Five made his way over to it, and what he saw made him collapse to his knees immediately.
There was (Y/N). His (Y/N). Bleeding from her mouth due to the rubble that was once crushing her, now moved away by her own clone. She was the same age as their siblings, the light from her (e/c) eyes slowly draining as her fingers slightly twitched. Right as Five went to hold her hand, her body gave one last twitch before going completely still, her eyes devoid of any light they’ve ever had.
————————————
Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @43sparrows @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandomkingdom
201 notes · View notes
butgilinsky · 4 years
Text
hold this // rc
warning; language, underage drinking, violence, ig it talks about sex? it says pussy like once i think, protective/soft rafe(((: 
summary; a touron hits on the wrong girl at the boneyard one night
word count; 1.6k+
here i go with the ‘mamas’ again. i’m sorry it just sends me
Tumblr media
rafe used to swear up, down and backwards that he wasn’t a jealous person. he always said he never had a reason to be jealous. he was the kook prince, he got just about everything he wanted in life. and his girlfriend was no different. 
y/n had seen something in rafe that nobody else took the time to see. it was one of the things he adored about her, and one reason he seemed to freak out every time there was reason for him to believe his relationship was put in jeopardy. 
though, y/n wanted to be with rafe. she wanted rafe as much as rafe wanted her, and that’s one of the reasons the two worked so well together. rafe cameron was no angel, and y/n made it a point to tell him that every time he messed up, though he never seemed to mess up with her. 
everyone on the island knew that y/n was off limits. after the incident at kelce’s house, when patrick mccarthy put his hand a little too low on y/n’s back and rafe had broken his nose, nobody made a pass at the girl. some people were too scared to even talk to her, afraid that rafe would misread the situation. 
but that was a year ago. and no matter how common knowledge their relationship was to every kook and pogue on the island, the information was unknown to tourons. 
she’d seen the boy’s gaze on her all night long, though she tried to ignore it. it made her slightly uncomfortable, her every move under somebody’s eyes, but telling rafe meant starting a scene at the boneyard, and that wasn’t something she wanted to deal with right now. 
for a while she thought he might just keep his distance all night, but that proved to be a wrong assumption when she found herself at the keg, exchanging a few words with john b when the touron popped up over her shoulder. 
“hey gorgeous.” she swallowed the groan that bubbled in her throat and took a large gulp of her beer. 
john b almost laughed at the guy’s oblivion. he wasn’t going to be the one to tell him to back off though, not wanting to insert himself in any situation that was between rafe and one of y/n’s many admirers. 
“hi.” she responded dryly, flashing him a quick smile before waving to john b and walking back towards where she had left rafe not too long ago.
“i’m liam.” she sighed to herself when the boy started following after her, all wishes and hopes of shrugging him off being rudely denied by the universe. 
“y/n.” she raised her cup to her lips, hoping her dry and slightly rude nature would send a message.
“you here alone?” she stopped at that, turning to the boy with a heavy sigh. 
“no, i’m not. listen, i don’t mean to be that girl, but i have a boyfriend.” the boy hummed softly, giving her a once over before he smirked widely. 
“not a thing to me if it’s not to you.” he shrugged easily, not finding it much of an issue for him. 
“you’re gonna regret you said that, buddy.” topper’s arm hooked around her shoulder, making her slightly relieved that she might’ve found an escape with the opportunity to avoid a scene. 
“there’s no way you’re her boyfriend.” the guy easily dismissed topper, not buying the act for a second. 
“i’m not, but i have the ability to save you from ever meeting him. i suggest you take the opportunity and run.” y/n clicked her tongue at the threat, knowing that topper would pounce on this guy if he felt the need to. 
“look, i’m just trying to get to know a beautiful lady, no harm no foul.” she felt another hand on her back, turning over her shoulder to find kelce giving her a quick glance before giving the boy across from her a stern look.
“is there a problem here?” the guy glared at kelce, glancing down to y/n for a moment before scoffing the same way he did with topper just a second ago. 
“you seem to have a lot of boys at your side, honey.” she cringed at the pet name, hating the way it dripped from his tongue. “seems like that boyfriend of yours is just a myth, huh?”
“what about her boyfriend?” y/n sighed heavily, head dropping to topper’s shoulder before a hand sneaked its way around to her stomach. 
“jesus christ, how many guys do you juggle princess? seems to me like you have room for one more.” 
y/n’s eyes went wide at the guy’s words, thinking she was going to have to stop all three of them from jumping him at this point. 
“what the fuck did you just say?” she turned quickly to face rafe, the boy not even glancing at her as he glared harshly at the guy behind her. 
“baby, please don’t do this right now.” she mumbled softly, hands pressed firmly to his sides. she squeezed softly in an attempt to have him look at her, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the touron. 
“she’s got an ass on her man, you guys pick ‘em well, i’ve gotta say.” 
“say one more thing about her and i’ll break your jaw.” rafe’s voice was low, and to anybody else on the island it would’ve been the end of the conversation, but this guy couldn’t pick up a hint if it was put in the palm of his hand directly, it seems. 
“c’mon, if you all share her what’s the issue, man?” 
“baby, please.” rafe glanced down at her then, jaw clenched tightly and steam pouring out of his ears. 
“hold this.” he raised his cup to her, waiting for her to grab it but she shook her head. “y/n, hold this or i’m going to throw it in that prick’s face.”
“whatever, man. she seems to have all of you on a tight leash anyway. no pussy’s that good.” 
rafe lost it then. he took the cup in his hand and chucked it over y/n’s head, clocking the guy in the face. he was covered in beer now, and the cup bounced off the side of his face. 
the touron’s face grew red, and though y/n tried to keep rafe away from him, rafe’s quick glance to kelce was loud enough for kelce to wrap an arm around the girl’s waist and lift her out of her spot. 
“tell me about it, man? how’s it feel when she’s on her knees? i bet it’s-” 
he never got to finish his statement, seeing as it’s difficult to talk when someone’s fist collides with your face. y/n winced at the sight, shying into kelce’s chest while rafe unloaded every ounce of frustration into the touron’s face. though, unfortunately for him, seemed to be a lot at the moment. 
the guy didn’t stand a chance. he had fallen onto his back after the second punch, a cracking sound coming after the third or forth. y/n’s pleas for rafe to stop never registered with rafe, ignoring everybody that had gathered to watch the fight. 
the guy was sputtering out apologies, gasping for breath and trying to beg rafe to let up on him, but it was no use until topper pried his best friend off of the boy. topper was yelling that the guy had had enough, and rafe growled under his breath while he shoved topper away from him, clearly not letting out all of his frustration quite yet. 
y/n watched rafe walk away from the spot, fighting the urge to kick sand up at the guy when he stormed off. he pushed past people that were staring up at him with various expressions, not having seen rafe get into a fight like that in a few months. 
y/n ran after him, trying to call out to him but was ultimately ignored as rafe’s anger took over. she followed as quickly as she could, though her shorter legs and the sand around her feet slowed her down a bit. 
“rafe, please!” he finally stopped when he seemed to be miles away from anyone, spinning around and glaring gently at the girl. “rafe.” 
“i don’t need a lecture. i went too far, i get it.” his voice was low and rough, though he wasn’t angry at the girl before him. he was angry at the situation that had just ensued, and the idea of her lecturing him made him want to punch something else. 
“i’m not going to lecture you.” she sighed softly, her shoulders slumping as she stepped forward. 
she wrapped her arms around the boy’s back, leaning her head against his chest and sighing gently. it only took rafe a few seconds for him to wrap his arms back around the girl.
“i’m sorry, he just wouldn’t shut the fuck up and he ticked all of the boxes.” y/n sighed gently, not wanting to forgive him right away, since he knew how much she hated him getting into fights over her, but she couldn’t be angry at the boy. 
“i know. i’m sorry.” rafe moved a hand up to her chin, tilting her head back to force her to look at him. 
“hey, don’t apologize. you didn’t do anything wrong.” his voice lowered to a whisper, the look in his eyes filled with remorse and love for the girl in his arms. he hated upsetting her, but all it took was one wrong word about her to make send him into a trance like that. 
“can we just go home?” rafe smiled softly at her and nodded, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before letting the hand on her back drop to her ass and squeezing it softly. 
“rafe!” she squealed softly, hearing the boy laugh when she shoved him playfully. 
“sorry, mamas. let’s go.” he kissed her quickly and grabbed her hand, practically dragging her to where his truck was parked. 
1K notes · View notes
shadowscans · 3 years
Text
Translation of natalie.mu's Interview with Soumatou
Source: https://natalie.mu/comic/pp/shadowshouse03
With the TV anime “Shadows House” starting its broadcast on the 10th of April, Comic Natalie is running a special feature on the work. In this third installment of the series, the original author Soumatou makes their long-awaited appearance. Here, we are given the chance to hear them talk about the behind the scene of the production, the sense of speed that comes from the short amount of time between the adaptation decision and the broadcast, the background behind the creation of the original work where the characters have no face and whose expressions cannot be seen, as well as the story behind the creation of the 2-person unit Soumatou, with Nori in charge of design, and Hisshi in charge of drawing. It should be noted that in this interview, they are answering not as Nori and Hisshi but as Soumatou.
“It’s probably a work that’s hard to adapt into anime”
──Soumatou-san, when did you hear of the anime adaptation?
In 2019, about 50 chapters were made free to read online, and amidst the great response, we learned that the anime adaptation was greenlit.
── Making something open to the public has such an effect, huh?
When “Shadows House” started, it was a relatively subdued serialization. With the chapters being made free to read, people started sharing their thoughts through various means like Twitter, and the paper volumes were selling out. In regards to the public release, back when the person in charge proposed the idea, we approved of it since our impression was that “If not many people were reading it anyways, then let’s just give that a try.” Therefore, in the midst of all that, when we heard of the anime adaptation, we were very surprised. “Is there such a thing?” Because production starts immediately after the decision, it was very speedy.
──With how short the time period is between the decision and the start of broadcast, it doesn’t seem like you have much time to rejoice huh (laugh).
We were happy at the time of the decision of course, but apart from that, “It’s probably a work that’s hard to adapt into anime” was what we thought. In the first place, we’re the type that only believe in something we can see, so it didn’t really sink in for us. We were thinking something like “This project might not even fall through” (laugh). That is why ever since the anime adaptation was publicly announced, the feeling of joy finally sinked in.
──Soumatou-san, in what ways were you involved with the anime?
We supervised roughly all the main processes. When the anime adaptation was greenlit, since the person in charge advised me that “If you will be involved, then be involved with everything. If you won’t be involved, then don’t be involved with anything at all,” we thought “If it’s going to be like that, then we will do as much as we can.” However, the supervision of the script was quite hefty, and having to do that concurrently with the serialization was rather physically difficult.
──I had the chance to watch the first episode, and the thing that surprised me was the original development related to Emilyko’s establishment. Was it difficult to supervise these parts?
We had thought to draw that in the original work, though we decided not to since we thought it wasn’t particularly important. That was just a story from the original work which was added on. However, what was difficult were the adjustments made based on the decision at the script meeting to also depict elements or episodes which are not yet revealed in the original work. We have to think two steps ahead of the current plot of the ongoing serialization, then we have to put in stories or elements that would put us closer to that in the anime. It was a maddening task (laugh).
──If that’s the case, then it seems like it would be fun to compare the original work with the anime huh. Even though it’s difficult, was it refreshing to work on the anime?
Yes. Since we didn’t know anything about anime, or rather, we had no production know-how, so at first, we had no idea how everything would progress. To begin with, we gave them the material created for the serialization. Because we have already created a vast amount of material like the building’s 3D layout, it was easy to say “This is what the layout looks like.” In addition, even though the creation of the colored edition was intended for overseas readers, that material seemed to have been of use for the creation of the colors in the anime. In that sense, there might have been little materials that must be created when it comes to adapting it into an anime.
Supervising as far as the way soot is emitted and the movement of the Clingers
──Soumatou-san, what kind of impression did you have when you saw the anime?
We were amazed by how much more profound the atmosphere was than what we expected. We knew the character’s line drawing and the colors that go on them since we supervised it, but we can’t visualize the final image with just that. However, when we saw the processed recording with the background attached, we felt it was close to the impression of the original work.
──How about the directing?
Expressions that aren’t possible in the manga, such as the movement of the soot, Emilyko rolling on the ground or the inclusion of the song that the Living Dolls sang to themselves, left me with a strong impression.
──As for the soot, I was convinced that it would move like that. Was that also supervised by you?
As for the soot and the clingers, we were shown a few patterns, then we fine-tuned it from there.
──By the way, what kinds of patterns were there?
As for the soot, there was a difference in how it was emitted, be it softly or firmly. For the clingers, there was a difference in the movement, like whether it would move slowly like a cockroach or quickly. Such were the patterns that were there. We did quite a bit of trial and error.
Only the voice actors for Kate and Emilyko were entirely decided by others
──Did you go to the dubbing location?
We only visited for the first time to say hello. The voice actors went through the performance about 3 times. As we listened to the anime staff's directions without giving any input ourselves, we felt it fit our image. On the other hand, when the voice actors were asked by the director “Is there any part you want to re-record at the end?,” they responded with things like “I want to re-record this part” or “would this part be better like this instead,” one after another amending it. It was also the first time we observed a dubbing session, so we were very impressed.
──Well then, did Soumatou-san have any particular request?
There were one or two scenes where we thought “This doesn’t seem to come through, so we want it like this,” and asked them to redo the intonation. However, because anime has a fixed length, I felt that it was better to leave it to the director to draw out the best performance within that time limit. The rest of the time, it was alright for us to really just watch.
──That’s roughly how I imagined it to be. Well, then, please tell us about the impression you got from the main characters. First , how were Kate’s by Kitou Akira-san and Emilyko’s Sasahara Yuu-san?
The rough images of Kate and Emilyko’s voices in our own heads were just “calm” and “cheerful.” That’s why we were able to express our wishes after the audition for the other characters. However, just for these two, we only said, “Please use the person that fits the best'' and left it for others to decide (laugh). When we heard the audition, our impression was that Sasahara-san would fit Kate’s voice, and Kitou-san would fit Emilyko’s voice. However, when we looked at the results, it turned out to be the other way around. There are differences between the performance they did at the audition and at the start of the dubbing, though now we felt that this way was definitely more fitting.
──The other shadow and living doll pairs are played by one person each. What was your impression when you heard of that?
We stated in the original work that the shadows and living dolls have different voices. However, for the anime, when the idea to have the same person performing the roles was proposed, we told them that “we are looking forward to the voice actors doing their best.” The voices are altered based on vocal ranges, and I think the end result is that you will be able to enjoy the voice actors’ varied performances.
──Currently, the cast for four sets of characters has been announced. Please tell us your impressions about each of them.
Sakai Koudai-san’s duet between the hearty, easily carried away John and the cool-headed Shaun is very amusing. Both characters sound good, and their voices are cute. As for Sakura Ayane-san, she was able to portray the very different atmospheres between the lively Louise and the calm Lou.
──Those two consist of clearly different characters so it might be easy to work with, but I felt that the remaining two seem difficult.
Indeed. Kawashima Reiji-san has to play Patrick and Ricky - two characters whose voices and personalities are quite similar, so we thought it was quite a hard role. However, he was able to perform the roles with the understanding of the fine differences in the character of the two. For Shimoji Shino-san who plays the role of Shirley and Ram, there is a lot of dialogue with the imaginary friend, and she has to portray a different image than that of others. She said that “It’s a type of character that I have never played before,” but her voice fitted perfectly.
The pair’s 20-year relationship
──Well then, let’s move from “Shadows House” and let's hear about you Soumatou san, and your past works. You two work together as a pair, but when did you get to know each other?
We have known each other since when we were students, so it is already a roughly 20-year relationship.
──Why did you two start making manga together?
When Hisshi stopped submitting to manga awards, they no longer drew their own manga and ended up settling down as an assistant. I thought that this was a waste of potential, so when I quit my own job, I told Hisshi that I would write my own stories and asked Hisshi to draw them.
──Afterwards, you seemed to have created doujinshi for a while huh.
Yes. Because Nori normally doesn’t read manga and had not created a manga before, we thought to make a lot of them and send them to publishers. Since around 2008, we made a few and showed them at exhibitions. Afterwards, we were able to thankfully get in touch with Shueisha.
──It sure is amazing that you called out and said that you would “make your own story” even though you had no prior experience. Nori-san, what is it about the manga that Hisshi-san made that drew you in?
The composition is very skillful. To phrase it slightly poorly, even if the story is not that interesting, the skillful composition has the power to make you read from beginning to end. That is why Hisshi was able to receive rewards from various magazines.
──I see.
However, since I’m the type to make a manga from whatever episode or idea I want to draw, I have a good grasp on it, but I’m bad at putting things in order over a long span of time. I can draw one-offs, but they did not lead to serialization at all. It seemed like I was slowly running out of things I wanted to draw.
──How do you two divide the work for making the manga? For example, please teach us the making of a single chapter of “Shadows House.”
Firstly, Nori describes the entire course of events, then after bouncing the ideas off of Hisshi, it’s all put together into the plot. With that as the base, Hisshi makes the mini storyboards, which Nori then uses in the briefing session with the editor. Afterwards, Hisshi draws up the real storyboards, and after another meeting with the editor, we head to the rough draft. Hisshi checks that rough draft, then we work on things like new characters, backgrounds, minor characters and the frontispiece’s design. Then, Hisshi inks a pen sketch while Nori does assistant work around the characters. Finally, Hisshi puts the finishing touches and the manuscript is complete. Also, Nori makes the final adjustments to the dialogue right before submission.
──You sure communicate in great detail.
We think we go back and forth more than others whose original works and drawings are separated. Furthermore, we also consult each other when we come to a standstill in our work.
Both “Kuro” and “Girigiri out” have the same ingredients
──Well then let’s return to “Shadows House”, please tell us how and from where you got the idea for the work.
I was staring at a mannequin at a clothing store when the idea suddenly flashed in my mind. The rest is a mishmash of things such as Hisshi’s specialty of clothes and backgrounds, as well as our shared interest in buildings and everyday life in a strange setting.
──Even if you have come up with the idea, it must take courage to make the main characters pitch black, right?
Mangaka are tasked with doing works like drawing facial expressions, though we wondered whether it was possible to present emotions without facial expressions in “Shadows House.” Nori simply thought that “It can be done in novels, so it should be possible in manga too,” and Hisshi hates drawing characters’ faces (laugh). Hisshi even says that “I just want to draw clothes and backgrounds” all the time. Of course Hisshi tries to draw the characters cutely, but that’s without a spontaneous desire to do so.
──That’s surprising to hear, since in your previous work “Girigiri out”, the charm of the beautiful heroine is pushed to the forefront.
Originally Nori was a graphic designer, and Hisshi was a Mangaka’s assistant, so it was deeply ingrained in us to accede to others’ demands. There wasn’t anything that we could say “We want to draw that!” about as Soumatou. Because of that, basically, we are the type to start by fumbling at themes and genres that the editor has an interest in. From there, we come up with various things, and the engine gradually starts. Moreover, at the serialization meeting, among the three works we submitted, “Girigiri Out” was a discarded idea to give the impression that we were trying our best. We thought that if we submitted three works at the serialization meeting then it could look as if we’re trying our best (laugh). Since we didn’t think of anything aside from the 3 chapters submitted at the meeting, when the time came for the serialization, we were worried about what to draw from there.
──”Girigiri Out” is about a situation surrounding a girl who wets herself when she’s nervous, and a boy with the power to suppress someone’s urge to urinate through touch. Even though you have only thought of 3 chapters, during the serialization, you drew quite a few variations on wetting oneself huh.
Generally speaking, we were motivated to make every chapter a different situation (laugh).
──Furthermore, among your previous works, “Kuro” has parts that felt connected to “Shadows House”, but “Girigiri Out”’s style was surprising. I understand now that it’s a story that started from fumbling about with themes and genres of interest to the editor.
However, maybe it’s hard to notice, but the themes drawn in “Kuro” and “Girigiri Out” have quite a bit in common. Everyday life in a strange setting, strange characters that are not people, restlessness, action, surreal jokes, familial love, release from trauma, folk beliefs… the packaging is different, but “Shadows House” also has roughly those same ingredients.
We want to do a gag manga next, but it might be difficult?
──Please let us hear a bit more about “Shadows House.” The story was carefully foreshadowed from the beginning, but just how far ahead did you plan at the start of the serialization?
Since the beginning we have faintly thought about what happens very far ahead into the future, and from there we flesh it out. However, we don’t know how long each part will take if we haven’t drawn it, and parts do change due to the characters’ relationships. For example, at first we had planned for the Debut to end in about 3 chapters.
──In reality it took a volume and a half. That sure is a big change.
We have a bad habit of putting off thinking about the minute details.
──The garden in the Debut also had such a complicated map that I didn’t think it was planned to end in just 3 chapters.
The person in charge is someone who likes exciting and shounen-like things, so we were told that “If I go to the garden then I want a map of the garden.” Though, since we haven’t thought of anything, we spent the next day making a map of the garden as well as all of the gimmicks (laugh). We feel like without that, the story would have been aimless, so we appreciate the advice.
──It certainly has an exciting adventurous feel to it, so the Debut looks like something that would shine in an anime huh. By the way, when I was reading “Shadows House,” the thing that surprised me the most was how screentone was not used at all. I’m sorry that it’s a simple question, but isn’t that quite difficult?
It normally is difficult (laugh). Originally, for a drawing method that suits the work, we wanted something that is reminiscent of old printed works. It started when Nori, who was simply bored, lightheartedly suggested that “This time let’s use hatching (Method of filling in space using uniform parallel lines).” It limits the range of expressions, so now we do regret it a little bit.
──I will continue to enjoy your wonderful drawings from now on. Lastly, you mentioned that “there wasn’t anything that you wanted to draw as Soumatou,” but when you finish drawing “Shadows House,” please tell us what genre you want to tackle next.
Let’s see… how about gag manga? We originally started with drawing gag manga, and the works submitted together with “Shadows House” at the serialization meeting also had comedy in them. However, the gag portion was so hard to do that the editor was put off by it. It might be difficult, but it would be nice if we could publish it some day (laugh).
103 notes · View notes
nicknellie · 3 years
Text
Anonymous requested: Alex meets Willie at a coffee shop and they’ve been talking for a few weeks but Alex is afraid to admit anything of liking Willie. But his friends push him to and he finds out that Willie likes him back and they go on a date.
I combined this with a prompt from this amazing list because I thought it was funny. I didn’t include the actual date because I know nothing about skating but if enough people want it then I’d be more than happy to do a part two of this!
I also added Julie, Carrie, and Alex being best friends because we deserve it.
Batman and the Barista
Aside from his co-workers, there was not one single thing about working at Eats ‘n’ Beats that made Alex Mercer’s job there bearable. If the coffee machine wasn’t straight-up not working, it was spurting scalding water at him; the customers were generally speaking entitled and rude; his boss was so laid-back and carefree that it was painful and no problems in the workplace ever got solved; and the hours were ridiculous – for example, some days Alex worked from four a.m. until nine a.m. Who in their right mind wants coffee at four o’clock in the morning?
The only other thing – or rather, the only other person – that might have stood any chance of making Alex’s job worthwhile also made it worse. They would have been perfect if only for the fact that they wouldn’t tell Alex their goddamn name.
He was a regular at Eats ‘n’ Beats and seemed to come into the shop at least once on every one of Alex’s shifts. He was, in Alex’s eyes, utterly perfect – beautiful tawny skin, long dark hair sometimes twined into a bun at the base of his neck, and the most adorable smile Alex could imagine. It was downright unfair how attractive he was, and how funny, kind, and smart he was too.
If only he would tell Alex who he was.
Every single time he came in the shop, the guy ordered the same drink (hot chocolate with cream, marshmallows, sprinkles, the works) and every time Alex would ask for his name. Every single time he had received a different answer.
The first few times he had hardly noticed. The second time the guy came in the coffee shop he had told Alex his name was Horatio – Alex could have sworn his name had been Patrick the week before, but it was possible that he was misremembering, so he hadn’t thought anything of it. But the next time the guy came in his name had been Edmund. After that it had been Marcus, then Jason, then Rudy, Stewart, Bob, Milo. The names had got increasingly weirder; just yesterday Alex had scrawled Megamind on the guy’s to-go cup. Before that it had been Sherlock.
As lovely as the guy was, Alex often found himself complaining to his friends about him and his lack of naming consistency, usually on his too-short breaks.
“He just seems like a really cool guy,” he was saying to his co-workers Carrie and Julie one day as they all sat around a small, cramped table in the staff room. “I’d really like to get to know him but he seems intent on me not knowing him at all!”
Alex could practically hear Carrie rolling her eyes. “We know you’d like to get to know him,” she muttered, “it’s all you ever talk about.”
“That’s not true,” Alex protested. “I talk about other things!”
“Like what?” Carrie asked, raising a perfectly trimmed eyebrow.
“Like the band,” Alex returned.
Julie shook her head. “Only if I bring it up first. And your contribution is usually something along the lines of ‘I wish coffee shop guy would come to one of our gigs, how cool would that be?’”
“That’s not– I– okay.” Alex sighed, then said under his breath, “Although it would be kinda cool if he did come to one of our shows.”
Carrie sighed dramatically. “You are so far gone it’s painful to listen to.”
“Just ask him out,” Julie said, smiling fondly. “I see the way he grins at you when he gives you a ridiculous fake name – his smile is so wide it practically falls off his face!”
“I don’t want to ask him out,” Alex lied. It wasn’t as if a lie like that could work on Julie and Carrie anyway; they both rolled their eyes and crossed their arms, eerily in sync with each other. “I don’t! I just want to get to know him.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?” Julie said.
“No. I wanted to get to know you guys without wanting to date you.”
“That’s because you’re gay,” Carrie said matter-of-factly, “and Julie and I are, correct me if I’m wrong, girls.”
“That’s fair,” Alex conceded. “But I don’t want to ask him out.”
Julie patted his hand. “Sure, Alex.”
A few minutes later, their break ended and the three friends made their way back out front to the shop. It was bustling and busy, and the co-worker Alex took over from on the register looked one customer away from breaking down into a mess of tears.
Alex, Julie, and Carrie (each manning their stations either on the cash register, at the coffee machine, or calling orders) started working, getting drinks and snacks for everyone. In the first five minutes, only one person yelled at Alex for accidentally spelling their name wrong on the cup, which passed as a good five minutes in his book.
Alex wouldn’t deny that he was watching the door, waiting for someone specific to come in. So maybe he was a little distracted, and maybe he did mess up a few orders or names, and maybe he could feel Julie and Carrie fondly glaring at him for being a little bit elsewhere, but it wasn’t really his fault. It was entirely Cute No-Name’s fault and if asked that was exactly who Alex would blame.
Eventually, with only ten minutes to go until closing time when the customers had dwindled down to just one or two every few minutes, the door swung open and the guy finally came in. There was something a little different today, and Alex’s throat went dry when he saw it – Cute No-Name had a skateboard tucked under his arm and removed his helmet as he entered the shop.
There was no queue at this hour, so he sauntered right up to Alex, a wide smile on his face.
“Hey, hotdog,” the guy said. It was a name he’d started using for Alex after seeing that one of the many things he had embroidered on his work apron was a hotdog (right between the rainbow flag and the drumsticks). Alex didn’t like the nickname, but No-Name couldn’t be stopped.
“Hey,” Alex replied, clearing his throat. “Hey, how are you?”
“I’m good,” No-Name replied. “You?”
“Yeah, yeah, great,” Alex said. He was aiming for a casual tone, but judging by Carrie and Julie’s poorly masked snickers he was not doing a very good job. “You want the usual?”
“Yeah, thanks, man,” the guy said. “To-go, please.”
Alex nodded, punching the price into the cash register and giving the guy his total. After he had been paid, Alex picked up a to-go cup and a permanent marker, turning to No-Name again. “So, what’s your name today?”
No-Name considered for a moment, then grinned. Maybe Julie was right, Alex thought – nobody could find this whole thing so funny that they’d smile that wide.
“I’m Batman,” the guy said. The worst part was that he did the voice too.
Alex groaned and shook his head, fighting a smile as he scrawled ‘Batman’ on the cup. “Of course you are. Carrie,” he called over his shoulder, holding the cup out. “This guy’s usual, please.”
Carrie didn’t take the cup. Instead, giggling along with Julie, she said, “Sorry, but who is ‘this guy’?”
“Carrie,” Alex said warningly.
“Who is he, Alex?” Julie asked, face bright with laughter.
“Not you too,” Alex said. Carrie, Julie, and No-Name were all properly laughing now. “I seriously can’t be the only one who doesn’t find this funny.”
“What’s his name, Alex?” Carrie asked between laughs.
Alex scowled at her. “Batman.”
Finally, Carrie took the cup and started making ‘Batman’s’ drink. Alex, shaking his head exasperatedly, turned back to face No-Name.
“Can I ask what your actual name is?” he said while Julie and Carrie were distracted by throwing marshmallows at each other, clearly not listening. “Genuinely. Because you always give a fake or different name and I… I mean, I just want to know who you really are.”
No-Name’s beam faded to a smaller, more delicate, warmer smile. “Sure, hotdog. It’s Willie.”
It was really that easy? All he’d had to do this whole time was ask?
“Really? No joking around this time?” The guy nodded. Alex thought for a moment and then said, “Willie what?”
Willie shrugged and leaned on the counter. He wasn’t that close, but Alex felt as if they were practically nose-to-nose. He wouldn’t have admitted how much that made his heart race.
“It depends,” Willie said. “What’s yours?”
Alex furrowed his brow, confused, but still said, “It’s Mercer.”
The mischievous grin was back. Willie straightened up and said, “Well, in that case, hopefully one day it’ll be Willie Mercer.”
Alex felt his jaw drop, heard Julie gasp, and heard Carrie not-so-quietly utter a swear.
Willie was the only one who seemed unaffected. He beamed over at Carrie, saying, “Is my drink nearly ready? I’ve got a skatepark to get to.”
With shaking hands, Carrie passed Willie his drink, and after they’d all said their goodbyes she slapped Alex’s arm. Repeatedly. Hard.
“He likes you,” she hissed. She almost sounded angry, but Alex knew that she was simply passionate about something potentially going right in his love life for once. “He totally likes you!”
“You think so?” Alex asked sceptically. “Because he could have just been joking–”
Julie scoffed. “That guy’s idea of a joke is giving a fake name at a coffee shop, not the implication of marriage.”
Alex couldn’t help it. He let himself smile and felt himself blush.
“So,” Julie continued, “will you ask him out now?”
Alex looked at the floor, still smiling sheepishly. “I’ll think about it,” he mumbled through his smile.
In the end, it didn’t really take much thinking about. Willie came in again the next day, even though it was one of Alex’s four-til-nine shifts. At six a.m. on the dot, Willie pushed the door open, the only customer in the shop.
“Hey, hotdog,” he greeted as usual, coming over and leaning against the counter.
“Hey, Willie,” Alex returned, smiling. He couldn’t believe he had a real name to use for this guy now; it made his heart beat in a way that was far too over the top for the situation. Without asking what Willie wanted or for a name to put on his cup, he set about making the drink. “You went skating yesterday, right? How was it?”
Willie grinned, fiddling with a ribbon on a charity collection tub. “It was fun. I mastered a trick I’ve been trying to learn for months. Have you ever skated?”
“Yep,” Alex said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Loads of times.”
Willie laughed. Alex adored the sound, and the way Willie’s eyes crinkled with his smile as he giggled. He felt his heart beat even faster. “So that’s a no. Maybe I could teach you sometime.”
“I’m not sure you really want to do that,” Alex said, handing over the drink, the name ‘Willie’ written on the side of the cup. “I don’t think I’m exactly badass skater material.”
“Still,” Willie said with a shrug. “It’d be fun. And we could make it a date. If you want.”
Yet again, Alex felt his jaw drop. “Wait, really? You want to… okay. You want to go on a date with me?”
Willie said nothing, just smiled brightly.
“I… I mean, yeah,” Alex continued, feeling very flustered, overwhelmed by the butterflies in his stomach. They were happy butterflies though – unnaturally happy. “Yeah, I also want to go on a date. With you. Thank you. People probably don’t say ‘thank you’ when they’re asked on a date, do they? That was probably weird, I’m sorry–”
Willie laughed and Alex stopped talking. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the whole world stopped, if the Earth ceased its spinning every time Willie made that sound.
“It’s a date,” Willie said, grinning. “Are you free today?”
Alex choked to find his voice and said, “Yeah, I finish at nine.”
“Cool, bro, I’ll be here to pick you up then. Sound good?”
“Sounds great,” he returned. Once again, he wasn’t quite sure he hit his target of ‘coolly disinterested’ and instead landed at ‘so disinterested that it was obvious that he was interested’. “I’ll see you then.”
“Catch you later, hotdog,” Willie said, saluting as he left the coffee shop, the bell on the door ringing behind him.
Alex couldn’t help but do an excited little jump and something that might have passed for a happy dance, but there was nobody there to see him so it didn’t matter. He couldn’t wait to tell Julie and Carrie about this.
173 notes · View notes
peakywitch · 4 years
Text
Little Hands - Michael Gray
PART ONE
MASTERLIST
WORD COUNT: 2K
warnings: none (i think this one has angst?)
gif: @oberelias
Tumblr media
A knock on the bar door caught Harry's attention. He immediately knew who it was. He opened the door, seeing the young woman from a half hour ago.
"Y/N?" he asked, not understanding anything. A girl of about 17 years, crying at the door of the Garrison. Harry thought he would never see such a thing.
"Sorry Harry, I had nowhere to go..." she sobbed; Harry invited her in and poured her a glass of water as she sat down at the bar.
“Are you better?" he asked her, after a few minutes.
The girl had been staring at the glass of water since Harry had offered it to her. The silent tears kept falling from her eyes. What will I do now? She would go home alone. She would forget about being a teacher and would have to dedicate herself to whatever she could, so her son would have something to eat.
Her son.
Y/N still didn't get it. She was seventeen, a minor, and her ex-boyfriend had just left her. She could not abort, she had found out too late.
"What the fuck am I going to do..." she whispered, asking Harry.
"You in trouble?" he asked, worried that she was hurt.
"Yes, in a giant problem." She replied, drinking more water.
“I think whatever it is, you can work it out. If you have people who want you by your side, you'll be fine." He said, as he rearranged the liquor bottles.
“The person I love doesn't want to be with me, Harry. He said horrible things to me and I…”The poor girl bursted into tears, Harry felt so out of place.
The man, not knowing what to do, approached the small kitchen that was at the back of the bar and took out some pieces of brownie that were carefully protected. When he returned to her side, he opened the noisy bag, filling the Garrison with a strong chocolate smell.
"You know?" he asked “My mother was a baker, and she made the best cakes in town. She made these brownies when I was sad or had a broken heart." He smiled wistfully; Y/N's red eyes focused on him “Last night, I felt a heavy sadness. And all I could think of was brownies." He placed the two brown squares on a gray plate. "I firmly believe, these brownies will heal you a bit." He held out the plate to the crying girl, she tried to grab one "Wait, not yet."
He reached under the bar, pulling out a glass bottle of milk: “There is a kitten that had a baby, and in the morning when I am leaving, I serve her some on a plate outside. But a broken heart deserves a sip to accompany brownies. "
She poured the milk into a pint, and told her she could eat now.
Between brownies, laughter, and some milk, she was able to stop crying and laughed at some stories Harry was telling her.
When night fell, Y/N stayed in one of the rooms upstairs. Harry had offered it to her for free, as Y/N had been very good company while he set up the pub for that Friday night. However, she insisted that she would return the favor by cleaning up on Saturday morning with him. Also, she wanted to see the kitten and her baby.
Ten o'clock at night showed up on the clock, telling Y/N that in two hours this hellish day would end. She was lying with her dress still on. The poor deluded woman had thought she would return home with… Michael. The more she thought about the subject, the more her heart ached.
“I won’t be with you, get rid of him. It would be easier. "
It was final: she would be a single mother.
Michael entered the pub at ten o'clock, tired, nervous, angry, sad, helpless, and heartbroken. He was disappointed in who he was. He had been infuriated by the fact that this new person that he was, had hurt Y/N. Michael could be called Henry, Benjamin, Patrick, or Mirtha. It didn't matter his name, he loved Y/N. So when he walked into the private booth at the Garrison alone, Tommy knew why. How was he going to find her, if she was as far as she was near?
"I thought I told you not to come back if it wasn't with her, Michael." said his cousin.
Gray sat down dejectedly in one of the chairs. He snorted and poured himself a whiskey.
“Looked everywhere. Shit, I even walked into that disgusting station with idiot Campbell. I looked in every square, on the outskirts, I asked in each hostel: nothing. I know her, she got on the train hours ago and she must be in her bed crying." His gaze was so lost on the beer bucket on the table, that he did not notice the knowing looks of his cousins.
“Tom,” said Arthur “go on. Tell ‘im. Look at ‘im.”
John slipped a chuckle.
"Tell me what?" Michael asked, looking at Thomas. "Tommy, if you know something, please tell me ..."
"Michael," tommy cleared his throat, "you well know that nothing happens here without me knowing."
"Here? Small Heath? As I said, I don't think…” the Shelby interrupted his cousin.
“No, here like the Garrison. And I think you forgot that if you go upstairs, you will find a lodging that I mount..."
Michael didn't let him finish, cutting him off as he stood up abruptly.
"You knew all this damn time where she was!?" he roared.
"I have known for a few hours." he answered calmly, after drinking more Scotch.
Before Michael could say anything, Tommy spoke again: "Third door to your right."
And just like that, Michael came out of the booth like a bullet. He crossed the bar quickly, no matter who he shoved in his way. The stairs were climbed even faster, leaving him in a matter of seconds in front of Y/N's door.
He breathed. He realized how nervous Y/N must have been. He knocked on the door with a simple double knock.
Both knocks woke her up, bringing her back into the world. She stopped and approached the door carefully. Meanwhile, Michael was dying of nerves.
"Who is it?" Y/N asked.
"Me." Michael said.
"Who is Me?" she ask.
Y/N recognized that voice, of course she did. But she didn't know who the person with the voice was. She felt totally alien to this Michael Gray. Henry would never, ever have yelled at her.
"Y/N... lovey, please..." he begged.
"Do not call me that way. You don't feel that about me. Neither do I, I don't know you. "
Y/N was being too harsh for her liking, but Michael knew perfectly well that he deserved never to see her again.
“Y/N, I need to talk to you. Please…”he asked, he was about to cry.
"No. Goodbye." She sentenced.
Michael sighed in frustration. He sat in the doorway; he would sleep on the floor if necessary.
Now what can I do? If he opened the door, it would bother her even more. But if he left her alone, he would lose her forever.
"Y/N..." began the boy, and waited for an answer, nothing.
"Do you want me to leave you alone?" he asked again.
Silence.
"Well, here goes nothing." He sighed.
“Hello Y/N, my name is Michael Gray. I was born in 1903, and when I was four years old my father passed away. I was taken away from my mother, Polly, when I was five. I had a sister, they also separated us. The government changed my name to Henry. I was in an orphanage for about three years, until the Johnson, a very nice couple, adopted me. I grew up in the suburbs in a beautiful house with an apple tree in the garden. I met my first friend, she had your name, you know? "
Y/N was sitting on the other side of the door, listening to her favorite person speak. When she hear herself in the story, she smiled through tears.
“When she asked me to play family, I always pretended to propose to her. I never knew why. After a while I realized: the girls did not have germs. Then she started to seem like the prettiest girl, then the most beautiful young woman. I was in love with her for several years, I realized late. But one day..." Michael smiled wistfully" One day I plucked up the courage... a year ago and something, maybe. And I told her everything that happened to me with her. She kissed me and we started dating. She would come to my house after school. We would eat apples from the tree and study a little. And then we’d kiss a lot in the neighbor's barn at night. "
Y / N gave a little laugh, and that triggered Michael's pulse.
“Then I reconnected with my family, with the Shelbys. And I was so mad at the Johnsons for keeping my true story from me… they had told me, they’d abandoned me. When Tommy told me the truth, I was blinded by the pain of the lie and the thrill of finding my family. I did not realize that by meeting my old family, I would be abandoning one that was beginning to grow, you know?" They both wiped away tears.
“So, my girlfriend, she came to my homwtown angry, alone and pregnant. She was super, super angry and sad. And she told me everything, and I never felt worse. For having abandoned her, for seeing her cry about it and for abandoning her again when she told me she was pregnant. So..." he sighed "I am this, a simple stranger, who tells the story of his life, to the love of his life. Hoping that she forgives him. Because, you know, I know she knows I'm a bloody idiot. I mean, when we kissed for the first time, I accidentally bit her lip and left a small scar. "
They both laughed, listening to each other and wiping their tears.
“So…yeah. If you ever see her, tell her that for me, I know she doesn’t want to see me.” Michael said, with remarkable sadness.
Y/N wiped away her tears and gently pulled her hair. She stand up and knocked on the door three times. She then heard Michael stand up quickly.
"Who is this?" Michael asked.
"My name is Y/N, can I come into your life... again?" she asked, crying.
Michael's heart began to skip multiple beats and his smile spread across his face. He opened the door and saw his girlfriend standing, tired and crying. When their eyes connected, both bodies exploded into a loving embrace. They were both crying, they missed each other.
"I’m so sorry Y / N, so, so, so, sorry..." he stroked her hair.
"I love you, Michael Gray. But the next time you leave without saying goodbye, I will kill you with my bare hands. "
"Your hands are little, lovey, you can’t." She laughed, while Michael was filling her face with kisses.
"So, wait to see what a woman with little hands does to you at three in the morning when you don't want to take care of your baby."
Michael stopped the kisses and looked into her eyes.
"For a moment I had forgotten." Laughed Michael.
"Oh my God." Y/N joined in on her boyfriend's laughter.
451 notes · View notes
the-witty-pen-name · 3 years
Text
Can’t Help Falling in Love
Loki x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Summary: When Loki learns the traditions of Valentine’s Day, he asks you to be his Valentine- and reluctantly takes advice from Steve Rogers. 
Warnings: none; just fluff
Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: Thank you to @squadleaderchase​ for the suggestion! This was so fun to write!
Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!
I recommend listening to Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley towards the end of this imagine!  
There is also a female reader version of this fic, available here!
Tumblr media
“Can’t Midgardians have a holiday that doesn’t involve such a grotesque display of… red?” Loki asks walking into the living room of the Avengers compound. Loki arrived at the compound a few weeks before Christmas and so far, he’s experienced two Earth holidays: Christmas and New Year’s. Of course, Tony had picked the theme for both parties to be elaborately red and gold- he claimed the fact that it matched his suit was merely a coincidence.
“Just wait until next month,” you reply casually, your eyes not leaving the brief you were reading while you sat cozied up in one of the large armchairs. “I think you’ll like St. Patrick’s Day much more… color scheme wise at least.”
Loki looked up curiously at the hearts of all shades of red and pink Natasha had hung up to decorate the Avengers’ living quarters. She had gone to visit Clint’s family and his kids spent hours making Valentines and decorations out of construction paper and glitter. Loki looked almost puzzled at the lopsided hearts that hung from the ceiling on transparent line so they looked like they floated mid-air.
“Perhaps I might,” he mumbled to himself, the lovesick aura of his surroundings making him slightly disgusted. “Though I suppose I find your rituals as bizarre as you’d find on Asgard.”
“Mhmm,” you mumbled in response to his thinking out loud. It was rare that the compound would be this quiet. It was a Friday evening and in the middle of a team meeting earlier today, Tony declared exhaustedly that everyone needs to start the weekend early and dismissed everyone despite Steve’s protests. You weren’t sure where everyone else went and you didn’t particularly care- enjoying the rare peace and quiet.
You didn’t mind Loki’s company. He was a little aloof but overall, you found him more to be misunderstood than anything else. He wasn’t like Thor and sure, he had a very trouble ridden past to downplay it- but he’s confided in you all it wasn’t entirely his doing. Out of everyone living at the compound, he probably had grown the closest to you, or as close as Loki would allow himself to be to someone.
“What even is this holiday?” Loki asked, pulling his attention from the decorations to where you sat, binder in your lap. You looked up and closed the brief, tossing it onto the coffee table in front of where you sat.
“Sunday is Valentine’s Day,” you say looking back over to him, meeting his eyes. “I mean overtime the traditions and how we celebrate have changed but it’s originally the day meant to honor St. Valentine and commemorate his death. There’s a lot more to it than that and there’s all different of different origins, but now it’s more like a day where you celebrate love, because he was the patron Saint of Love.”
Loki nods, liking the idea of this holiday much more than New Years already. He didn’t mind Christmas, but the elaborate parties made everything not very appealing to him. You can’t blame the god for not having a good time at parties where every guest fears him or hates him. He walks over and takes a seat on the couch and crosses his legs. He was intrigued enough to continue the conversation and ask you more questions. “What are the traditions?” He asks curiously.
“Traditionally, you would ask someone to be your Valentine, and that’s the person you want to spend the day with,” you answer with a small shrug, trying to explain a holiday you’ve never had to explain before. “Some people have it easy and they ask their significant other, and if you don’t have one, you ask someone you’re romantically interested in to be your Valentine. Then you give each other gifts, like chocolates or flowers, anything really that’s romantic and you go out on a date, like a nice dinner but it doesn’t have to be. That’s the basic gist.”
“Thank you, (y/n),” Loki said, mulling over your explanation. “You’ve been helpful, as always. Tell me, who’s your Valentine?”
“I don’t have one,” you answered honestly. The only time you really celebrated was when you had been with someone. You’d never really participated otherwise. You planned to just spend the night alone or with Nat if she also didn’t have plans and probably watch a movie- most definitely Pride and Prejudice.
“Shame,” Loki said with a tsk. “Perhaps, if you would be interested, you could be my Valentine?”
“Really?” you ask, honestly surprised.
“I actually like the idea of the day,” Loki shrugged. “And I don’t know many people, people seem to hate me on this planet- no idea as to why. You’ve always been kind to me, and you are the most tolerable person I’ve encountered on this planet.”
“That’s oddly very kind of you,” you say with a chuckle. “I appreciate the sentiments. Um, yes. I’d be happy to be your Valentine.”
“Excellent,” he grinned. He clapped his hands together and stood up. “Splendid. I’ll ask Thor to help me plan something.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” you smile, picking up your paperwork again as Loki heads off to find his brother.
***
“Brother,” Thor’s voice echoed in the training room. “Spar with me?”
“As much as I would love to,” Loki said sarcastically, “I need your help with something I need to plan.” Loki walked over to the side of the mat where Thor had been training with Captain Rogers.
“Plan what?” Captain Rogers asked curiously. It was an innocent enough question but Loki took it as Rogers insinuating his distrust in him. Of course, Loki can’t blame the man but it did rub him the wrong way.
“If you must know Captain Rogers, I’m making plans for this upcoming Valentine’s Day,” Loki said matter-of-factly. “I’m sure since you have quite the active love life recently, your words of wisdom are probably of infinite value.”
“You can learn a thing or two from me,” Steve retorted as he put the punching bag beck into place. “But I don’t like your attitude.”
“I don’t know how I’ll ever manage without you,” Loki scoffed. He turned his attention back to his brother. “I need help to determine where I should take (y/n) and what I should get for a present.”
“(y/n) agreed to this?” Thor asks, his eyebrows raised in confusion. Rogers kept his mouth shut, deciding to see where this conversation will go before
“Yes, brother. I asked (y/n) to be my Valentine as stated by tradition and they said yes.”
“Ah! Good for you, brother!” Thor exclaimed, happily. “I’m glad you’re immersing yourself in the Midgard culture.”
“Yes, yes,” Loki waved him off, “Now, please, tell me what I should do.”
“I’ve never celebrated Valentine’s Day,” Thor says with a shrug and a sympathetic look. “I haven’t had much opportunity to explore the culture. Every time I’m on this planet I’m a little busy preventing its destruction. Perhaps Rogers can help you?”
Loki let out an exasperated sigh. He avoided Rogers as he knew the man had such a smug look on his face. Loki refused to give him the satisfaction. However, he realized that wouldn’t be fair to you. Rogers not only knew what to do, but he was also close friends with you. He quickly realized if he wanted to celebrate with you properly, he’d need to rely on the infamous super soldier.
“Captain Rogers,” Loki said with a charismatic smile, turning back to the man. “I wholeheartedly apologize for my lack of… social niceties. If you’d be willing to help me, to ensure your dear friend enjoys the holiday, I would be sincerely grateful.”
“Only because of (y/n),” Rogers says skeptically, waving a finger at Loki. “They deserve to enjoy their time and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you screw up their evening.”
“What a loyal friend.”
Years later, the Avengers would still talk about the fact Loki cared about you so much, he sought out advice from Captain America and Thor. And as Captain America said, he helped Loki with every last detail and Steve never let Loki forget it.
***
Loki had told you that he’d come to your room to get you at 6 o’clock Sunday evening. He wore clothes he had picked out, black dress pants, a white button-down shirt and shiny, black dress shoes. He had kept the last button of the shirt unbuttoned and he had rolled the sleeves up, a styling tip he had gotten from Thor. He had his long hair gelled back and tamed, ignoring Captain Roger’s horrible suggestion for a haircut. He felt very weird not wearing any green, but he took the advice he was given on his ensemble.
You were just putting on your shoes when he knocked at your door Sunday promptly at 6pm. Of course, Loki would be very punctual. You gave yourself one more quick once more in the mirror in your room before heading to answer the door.
You kept your appearance simple, sticking to how you usually styled your hair. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you quickly opened the door, your jacket in hand.
“Wow,” you say with a grin, when you take in Loki’s appearance. “You look very nice.”
“You look stunning,” Loki said, his eyes widening, taking in your appearance. The compliment made you have butterflies.
“Thank you,” you said with false confidence. Underneath, you were a nervous wreck as you took the arm that he extended to you.
“So,” Loki began to walk down the hallway with you. “Apparently, this planet has something called reservations, and anyone who tries to get one a few days before Valentine’s Day is a “moron,” according to a very rude young man I had the pleasure of speaking with- the first time using a phone too on top of that. So, I hope you don’t mind if the evening is a little… makeshift.”
“I’m sure it’ll be great,” you reassure him. You feel him relax slightly. You found how hard he was trying so endearing.
Where else did he bring you but just down the hall to the living room. At night with the lights dimmed, combined with Natasha’s homemade decorations, it actually looked quite beautiful. He had decorated with an eclectic array of candles as well that covered most surfaces of the room. It also looked like he had swiped every throw pillow in the whole compound and had them arranged the coffee table in the center of the room.
“Did you do all of this?” You ask in awe.
“Yes,” he replied, just watching you. “Do you like it?”
“It’s perfect.”
“I had to make my own version of advice I received,” he disclosed to you. You sat opposite each other on either side of the coffee table, you kicked off your heels and he did the same with his shoes. “Captain Rogers said- and I’m trying my best to quote verbatim, ‘You need to show a special someone a good time if you care about ‘em . You gotta take ‘em to dinner and dancing.’” He even mimicked Steve’s voice perfectly. It made you laugh.
“I can’t believe you subjected yourself to Steve for me, I’m touched,” you smiled. “I mean I love Steve,” you continue, “But I can’t imagine you too being best friends anytime soon.”
“No, I suppose we probably won’t be,” Loki chuckles.
“I hate to point it out,” you continue, “but I think you missed both the dinner part and the dancing part of that plan.” Loki smirked and when you blinked, he transformed the whole room.
“Did I?” he asks, with an eyebrow raised. You gasp, looking around the room you were now in. You knew it was an illusion, but it felt very real. The atmosphere, the breeze coming in from the large bay windows that weren’t there before. The coffee table now a table now one of many dining tables in an incredibly high-end restaurant. The table had food, and a bottle of wine. You were stunned. There was a live band and other couples in other tables and out on the dancefloor.
“Loki?” You exclaimed, looking around at your new surroundings. It was amazing. You couldn’t believe the magic right before your eyes. Of course, you knew it was just one of his tricks, but it felt so incredibly real. You picked up your fork and took a bite of the food in front of you. It was incredible, you questioned if you were even eating.
“It’s real,” Loki said, like he could read your mind. Honestly, he had only just anticipated your next question. “I made it. Well, I made it with Friday’s supervision.”
“It’s fantastic! I can’t believe you went through all this trouble just for me.”
“Sweetheart, you are very much worth it- worth much more than this,” he responded casually, throwing in the term of endearment to see how you’d react. He caught the way it made you smile.
You continued to talk for a little while, and shared stories. You were worried that compared to his life on Asgard, he’d find your stories incredibly boring and mundane. It seemed to be the opposite. His attention was only on you and he held on to every word you said. He created this elaborate setting just to keep you the center of his attention.
“Should we dance?” He asks suddenly, a glimmer in his eye. You looked down apprehensively.
“I’m not really a dancer,” you tried to insist.
“Do you actually not want to dance, darling? Because if so, I will not bring it up again,” he says earnestly, “But, if you’re saying no because you’re afraid I’m going to judge you, I honestly can promise you I would never dream of doing so.”
You give it another moment to ponder over his words. You were taken aback at how well he seemed to know how you were thinking. You let out a sigh of defeat, and smile. “I’d love to,” you reply.
He stands up and offers you his hand. His smile is enough to make you weak at the knees. You take his hand and he leads you over to the dancefloor as the band starts playing its next song. “Does that singer sound like Elvis?” You ask, the small glitch in the illusion throwing you off for only a moment.
“I don’t know who that is,” Loki says with a laugh. He pulls you in close and rests one hand on the small of your back and the other grasps your hand close. You wrap your other arm around his shoulder. You are both pressed up incredibly close to one another. You rest your head on his chest comfortably, and you can’t see how much the action makes his whole face go red. Guiding your movements together, it mostly just swaying in place. The steps were small, and with the music playing for the two of you.
“This place is incredible,” you sigh happily looking up at him. “But I think I liked the first place a little better.”
He nodded in agreement and you got to watch a green hue encompass the walls of the restaurant as they almost melted away, and everything around the two of you just fade away. The sconces on the walls, revealed themselves to be the candles that cluttered the living room and the couples evaporated with the green mist. The table you had both sat at, turned back to the coffee table but the empty plates remained. The elaborate statues that surrounded the room turned into the furniture you knew well, and then the live band faded away to reveal Steve’s record player indeed playing a 45 of Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley.
When the room finished revealing its true appearance to you, you laid your head back on Loki’s chest and mumbled that now it was perfect. He smiled to himself, thinking about how without a doubt in his mind, Valentine’s Day is his absolute favorite holiday on Midgard. He now couldn’t believe this reality was real. If he wasn’t holding you, he’d pinch himself. You were here, with him, in his arms, dancing in the middle of the living room on this godforsaken planet.
“(y/n)?” he whispered softly as the song was coming to an end.
“Mhmm?” You responded, your eyes closed, really just basking in the feeling of being so close to him and the smell of his cologne.
“Will be mine?” He asks carefully, remembering the phrase from Captain Roger’s advice. That phrase apparently being very important if today went well and he wanted to ask you to “go steady.” You chuckled softly, hearing Steve’s influence in the phrase.
“I would love to,” you say with a shy smile looking back up to him. He beams, incredibly happy you said yes. Swept up in his emotions, he swiftly leans down and presses his lips to yours capturing them in a passionate first kiss.
“Oh gross!” You hear someone exclaim, making you both pull away. It’s Tony- who was currently holding his side in pain as Pepper elbowed him in the side.
“You really had to do that?” she chastised him, rolling her eyes and giving an apologetic look to you and Loki before pushing Tony down the hallway to give you both your moment back, as sullied as it had become thanks to Tony.
“I never gave Rock of Ages permission to be… lovey dovey in my building! (y/n) you can do so much better than that greaseball!”
“I’m so sorry,” she said embarrassed by his outburst, ushering him out as quickly as possible.
Loki turns his head back to you, immediately after they are out of view. “Where were we, darling?” He smirks, pulling you in for another kiss.
81 notes · View notes
dex-xe · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(And an ask requesting Captain + anyone Angst #5 - I lost all the asks by accident cause I’m an idiot!!)
Pat & the Captain Angst #5: “I don’t want to feel this. I want to be numb again.”
Pat & the Captain General #48: “I won’t hurt you.”
(I combined these three because I really felt they’d work well together. I didn’t wanna make the romance obvious but it’s definitely implied!! Anyway, thank you to you for sending these I really love this one!!)
Prompt list
Inbox
Pat had always felt fairly content with his tiny attic bedroom. Four walls barely metres apart, a sloped ceiling, and small window that gave him a rather pleasant view of the gardens of Button House. He’d chosen the room mere hours after his tragic and sudden death. One glance at the miniature single bed tucked into the corner was all he got before he was forced to dedicate his afterlife to those four walls, hoping his choice of attic room would place the least amount of burden on the apprehensive ghosts already haunting the other bedrooms. It had suited him just fine. Being a man of small stature, he wasn’t particularly bothered by the cramped nature of his quarters, always one to make do without complaining.
That was all until the past week, when the suffocating closeness of his bedroom became abundantly clear. A few nights prior, the Captain had entered Pat’s room following their nightly patrol. They’d been deep in discussion about the best way to build a shelter; so that if, in the unlikely event the deceased pair managed to get lost in the wilderness, they’d thrive and survive. The conversation wasn’t finished so Pat didn’t hesitate to invite the Captain in to sit and continue.
Very quickly, Pat had realised his mistake. He was hesitant to even call it a mistake but, as the discussion developed and continued, they had strayed, as ghosts often did, to reminiscing about their lives. Comfortable ground for Pat, slightly more treacherous for the Captain. It had started innocuous enough with the Captain regaling the odd story of woodland walks and the flora and fauna he had discovered.
But soon enough, Pat had watched the Captain begin to slacken both physically and mentally and his stories had become looser and more personal. He told tales of his overbearing father and doting mother, his more successful and respectable older brother, and his grandmother; his adoring grandmother who lived up on a hill and waited every day for her nervous little grandson to trek up to help her bake bread and plant flowers. Pat couldn’t lose the golden opportunity that had fallen straight into his lap.
The Captain had returned the following two nights and Pat had learned more about him in three days than in the previous seventy years, and he was determined to bring the Captain to a place he wasn’t even sure the soldier knew existed. Very strategically, the Captain had been avoiding bringing up anything that could potentially lead to his romantic life, he’d refused to indulge Pat in talking about Carol and had quickly shut down Pat’s amusing first date anecdotes.
It reached night four before Pat finally broached the subject, waiting for the perfect moment. The pair sat in comfortable silence, curled up and knees pressed together, in the window seat of Pat’s miniature bedroom gazing out over the shadowy gardens.
“The stars are rather bright this evening, no cloud cover, see?” The Captain muttered contemplating the inky black sky. “I wasn’t much of an astronomer in life, I can’t say I know very much about the cosmos but I can appreciate its beauty.”
“I don’t know much either,” Pat confessed, but he pointed up into the sky just to the Captain’s right. “But that one’s Ursa Major.”
“It is?”
“No idea, could be!” Pat chuckled. The Captain smiled softly at him and turned back to the view. “The best date I ever had was taking Carol stargazing.” “Mhmm,” the Captain shuffled awkwardly in his seat, but said nothing to drive Pat away. So he pressed on.
“We’d only been together a little while. We wrapped up in so many layers and went up Bromley Hill, I held her hand the whole way up, to keep her warm, you know? And we lay down and just talked and drank hot chocolate. It was so wonderful: that was the night I realised I was in love with her. Yeah, good night!”
“Sounds lovely,” the Captain mumbled. Silence fell between them as Pat waited patiently for the Captain to talk, a technique he’d picked up over the past nights: give the Captain a minute to think and he’ll be willing to share.
“When the soldiers were getting rowdy of an evening,” he began slowly. “I would take myself off. The banks of the lake have a rather wonderful view of the sky. I’d just lie there and wait until the early hours, when the men had disappeared for bed.”
“A regular occurrence?”
“Now and again,” the Captain said non-committed. “Occasionally, very occasionally. I wouldn’t be alone, friends would join.”
“Friends?”
“Friend.”
“This friend would keep you company?” Pat asked carefully, eliciting the smallest hum of agreement from the Captain. “It’s nice, isn’t it? To have someone to share a night with?”
“And what precisely do you mean by that, sir?” The Captain turned suddenly. Pat realised he’d stuck his foot in it - rookie mistake really. He sat staring back at the Captain in silence before deciding on a response: in for a penny. “Well, you and this... friend. You’re like myself and Carol. Someone you can talk to, relax with, and truly be yourself around.”
“And how do you gather that from me telling you of my friend?” The Captain interrogated.
“You wouldn’t let just anyone gaze with you,” Pat pushed his glasses further up his nose. “I know you, Cap. They must have meant a great deal to you to let them anywhere close to you.”
“Do not compare him to your wife, Patrick,” the Captain huffed and turned back to the window.
“Why not?” Pat pushed.
“You loved Carol,” the Captain said. “She was your wife, he was but a friend.”
“And?” Pat avoided the Captain’s glare pointedly.
“Completely different situation.”
“You know, Captain, I’m not entirely sure that’s true.” The Captain spluttered and raised his stick towards Pat. His eyes were wide and very, very afraid of wherever the conservation was going. Pat half thought he might get up and run from the room as, like a deer in the headlights, his fight or flight reflex was taking far too long to kick in.
“Now listen here!” He stuttered. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating about Havers but I shall not sit here and listen to you slander a good man. You did not know him, he was nothing like your beloved Carol.”
“I wasn’t saying anything about him,” Pat argued. “But he was ‘beloved’ to you, as you put it?”
“How dare you-,” the Captain started. “I don’t understand, what are you- I don’t understand? He was never... ‘beloved’. Not by me.”
“You cared for this Havers?” Pat waited before the Captain nodded slowly. “You cared what he thought, what he had to say?” Another nod. “You wanted to spend time around him, make him happy? He made you happy?”
“What is this is aid of?” “Your face would go red when you saw him, yeah? Hands would get sweaty? You wanted to be the very best version of yourself in front of him?” Pat locked eyes with the man opposite him, both deathly afraid of the unspoken words. “You found him... physically attractive?”
“Now, what are you-,”
“I hate to be the one to break it to you, Captain.” Pat said quietly. “But that sounds rather like what love is.”
“No, it isn’t. It wasn’t.” The four walls of Pat’s tiny bedroom closed in, suffocating the pair despite their  lack of need for breathing. “It wasn’t love.”
“Did you ever feel that stomach-flippy thing? When he walked into the room? Like you’re going to explode with emotion, or be sick, or perhaps both,” Pat asked. “Think about your other friends. Think about Robin. Does that happen when you see him? Or Mary? Kitty? Does that feeling happen?”
“No.”
“Now think of your Havers.”
Oh God. The Captain’s stomach fell over itself with the image of Havers’ dark eyes floating in front of him. His insides twisted and turned as he listened to Havers’ voice describing the intricate details of their weapon plans, the silky smooth tones of his voice flowing straight into the Captain leaving him shell shocked. How had he never noticed that feeling before, that horrifying swirling feeling. It made him feel both comfortingly warm and ridiculously sick at the same time, as if every illegal thought he’d ever had for Havers were about to burst out from inside him.
“It’s there, isn’t it?” Pat prompted. The fear in the Captain’s eyes told everything Pat needed to know, guilt overrode his body. “It’s okay, Cap! You’re okay.”
“I- I- is that?” He stammered. “It- love?”
“I shouldn’t have pushed you,” Pat conceded.
“No. No, it’s not love! What are you talking about?” The Captain was overcome with anger all of a sudden, frustration threatening to spill out. “He was, well. No, he was a ‘he’ to begin with. That’s not- that’s not how love works.”
“Love is love is love,” Pat told him. “You can fall in love with anyone. Legal now, Cap.”
“I- I’m sorry,” the Captain’s head was scrambled.
“Don’t you dare say sorry, mate. You’ve bugger all to be sorry about.”
“I really- I don’t want to feel this. I want to be numb again,” he stumbled over his words, avoiding Pat’s gaze and pointedly staring out of the window instead. “I can’t feel this-.”
“Feel it, please,” Pat grabbed the Captain’s wrist in a tight two-handed grip and locked him into place. “It’s not healthy to keep everything inside.”
“We’re dead, Patrick!” The Captain urged. “We have no need to feel, no health to maintain.”
“Up here,” Pat tapped the Captain’s head carefully, the cold tip of his finger brushing through the thin grey hairs at his temple sending a small shiver through the Captain’s spine. “Healthy, up here. You need to take better care of yourself. It’s like a dam, holding back gallons of water simply increasing the pressure inside. Let a little emotion spill over once in a while, keeps your head on right.”
“Water will not spill, Patrick, it will flood. And then where will we be left: vulnerable to enemy attack, that’s where.”
“There’s no enemy,” the Captain moved to interrupt. “No, no enemy. Just allies. Let me in, just for a little while.”
“I can’t-,” he stopped, a single tear tracking its way down his cheek, burning hot onto his skin. “I wouldn’t know where to start.” Pat finally released his tense grip on the Captain and opened his arms, nodding to give the Captain silent permission.
“I won’t hurt you,” Pat whispered, brushing his hand over the scratchy khaki uniform at the Captain’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be the big, brave Captain you always try to be, not in front of me. Just for a moment, let go.”
After only a moment’s hesitation, the Captain dove forward head butting Pat in the chest, pushing him back against the window frame and practically folding himself in half to curl into the open arms. Seventy years of denied feeling poured out of the Captain to pool in their laps, warming their lonely ghostly forms. Pat dropped his legs to either side of the Captain, allowing him to curl closer and lie steadfast against his shoulder taking as much affection as he could having suppressed anything he wanted for years.
“Thank you for talking to me,” Pat whispered. “It’s a big thing to come to terms with, a big, big thing. But a good thing, yes? It’s good that you cared for him, good you felt a way you didn’t know you had. It’s all very, very good and very, very okay. And it’s for you to know and me to hopefully find out a little bit more about, okay? No one else need know.” He paused, his calloused hand finding the Captain’s in the darkness. “You can talk to me, Captain. Whatever you want to say, whenever, and I’ll listen. Hey, I’ll listen to you rant and rave about the shades of brown in his eyes for hours if it means you can start feeling again. Is that okay?” The Captain nodded vigorously, unable to trust himself to produce words.
Pat’s tiny bedroom no longer felt quite so suffocating to either man, nor did it feel like the dingy attic, barely tall enough to stand straight, that it had before. Instead it was a sanctuary to whispered secrets and profound confessions of adoration, four beige walls protecting the Captain in a way his emotional barriers had never quite been sufficient at. He tilted back to glance up at Pat, who smiled softly down at him running a hand over the Captain’s back and leaning to rest his chin among grey hair. The gentle look in Pat’s blazing blue eyes causing the Captain’s stomach to give off a familiarly warm flipping sensation.
34 notes · View notes
goldinavonlea · 3 years
Note
19!
hahaha okay so another one that needs context—from the call the midwife AU that, again, i absolutely am gonna fucking write one day. for those not familiar enough with CTM for it to be immediately obvious where i’m going with this, the fundamentals of the AU are this: Anne is a midwife along with several of the other girls, Gilbert is the community doctor (because can you say Dr Patrick Turner vibes? i mean it writes itself, it really does), everyone’s in london. more specifically in my conceptual AU, Anne was a workhouse kid who managed to liberate herself and ended up living on the streets during the blitz, but eventually got evacuated to Kent and sent to live with Marilla and Mathew who then adopted her after the end of the war. a fair whack of years down the line, Anne, Diana (who were reunited in Kent when Diana was evacuated to live with Aunt Jo, though they originally met in London when Diana came across Anne robbing the Barry’s kitchen during an air raid), and Ruby (whom they both met as teens volunteering in a nearby TB sanatorium where Ruby was getting treatment) are all newly qualified midwives and end up taking up posts with a community nursing team in Poplar—the part of London Anne originally came from. Again, Gilbert is obviously the local GP, and is living with Bash, Mary, and a primary-school aged Delphine. All this to say: enjoy a weird little exchange between Gilbert and his niece:
Gilbert turned and—with a muscle memory only achievable through years of infinite familiarity with the action—pitched himself backwards onto the sofa, landing with a satisfying thwump as the cushions swallowed him and his ankles hooked neatly over one arm while a well-placed scatter pillow protected his head from too violently coliding with the other.
Turning his gaze to the ceiling, he released all the worst of the days’ exhaustion on one extensive sigh that summoned first one, then two small hands over the back of the sofa. Gilbert tilted his head to watch as the rest of his niece followed, hauling herself up onto the back of the seat till she was perched lengthways above him, peering down with wide, waiting eyes.
“Hello.”
“Hello,” she replied, with a level of calm that immediately raised alarm bells. He’d barely had time to narrow his eyes in suspicion before her intent became apparent, already too late. “No, don’t—“
With an expertly timed and executed twist, Delphine shoved herself from the back of the sofa, straight as a rolling pin yet still managing to land with an elbow perfectly positioned in Gilbert’s ribs. His exhalation this time was less a sigh and more a swiftly bitten off curse.
“Thanks for that.”
“You’re welcome,” Delphine replied, managing to get a bony knee in his hip as she snuggled into a more comfortable position.
“Feral brat. How was your day?”
“Good. I made Molly Bowe cry.”
“That’s actually not good. What did you do?”
“Not my fault she’s a baby: I was just telling history stories.”
“History stories with dead people in them?”
“Live ones today, the ones they bricked into old bridges for good luck and then they starved or suffocated so the bridge didn’t fall down.”
“So not that alive, then. You know, one of these days you’re going to have to stop doing that.”
“One of these days other people are going to have to grow up. How was your day?”
“Long. Tiring. You know, you’re very lucky you don’t have a job.”
“Do too: going to school and telling history stories.”
“That’s not a job.”
“Only ‘cause no-one pays me. Which means my job is worser, actually.”
“Worse, not worser.”
“Worser’s like worse but even worser.”
“As ever, young madam, you are too clever and too liable to disobedience in all matters for your own good.”
“Thanks. Mister Sir said I would make a very excellent lawyer.”
“Mister Sir was almost certainly being rude. And please don’t go into law: we’re all still hoping you’ll use your powers for good.”
“I don’t want to be a lawyer anyway.”
“What do you want to be, then?”
“A historian. Or a mortician.”
“... You’re very creepy sometimes.”
“Mister Sir says that too.”
“I’m beginning to think someone might need to have a word with Mister Sir about some of the things he says to you.”
“Oh I’ve had lots of words with him. He isn’t a very good listener.”
16 notes · View notes
weasleydream · 4 years
Text
Forever and a day
Hey guys Hope you’ll enjoy and as usual, likes, reblogs and feedbacks are greatly appreciated!
Masterlist
(gif not mine)
Tumblr media
The night was like the ones you only see in the middle of summer even though it was Christmas. The deep blue sky, almost dark and dotted with thousands of bright stars, was only lightened by the moon, a fantastic crescent illuminating the garden of the Burrow along with Fred and me. The only thing blurring periodically our sight was the cloud forming in front of our mouths when we breathed, except that, this was a magical vision. 
The Burrow, as each and every Christmas, was animated and full of joy and laughter. It was awesome, really, but Fred and I had needed a bit of time alone as we hadn’t had a lot of occasions since his departure from Hogwarts, a few months ago. We had escaped the loud cheers, preferring the peaceful silence of the night, accepting the biting cold as it gave us an excuse for cuddling, losing ourselves in the stars. 
A particularly violent shiver shook me, and Fred tightened his grip around my waist. 
“We can go back inside, if you want.” he said while rubbing my sides with energy. 
“No, I want to stay.”
I looked up again to the stars and noticed a few seconds later that Fred’s gaze hadn’t followed mine. 
“What? Do I have something on my nose?” 
“Except that adorable red colour, no, you have nothing.” 
“Yeah, that’s because I love Rudolf the rednosed reindeer.” I declared before chuckling when Fred frowned. 
“Is that another muggleborn reference?” he asked. “Dad never told me about this one.”
“I guess you know him as Patrick the red tailed niffler.” 
In front of Fred’s incomprehension and once my laughters had eventually calmed down, I explained who Rudolf the rednosed reindeer was. 
“And we wonder why muggles don’t believe in magic,” he mumbled. “If they present it like something that childish…”
I didn’t want to debate on the muggle’s capacity of imagining what magic could be - I knew it could turn into a heated argument - and decided to change the subject. 
“If nothing was hanging from my nose, then why were you eyeing me so intensely?”
Fred’s cheeks and ears, who were already red because of the freezing air, darkened and I smirked when he scratched the back of his neck, a recurrent gesture that never failed to show when he was nervous.
“That’s because, well, the moonlight… It makes you look, err- it makes you look cool, I mean- Stop laughing, I just wanted to compliment you!”
Indeed, I was laughing softly, melting on the inside because he was so cute when he was nervous… And Fred was almost never nervous. He was always so self confident, such an adorable and cocky boy, yet when he wanted to express his deepest feelings, he became a stuttering mess. And I loved this side of him, way more than the side that always wanted to dye my hair in green, that was for sure. 
“And you did well complimenting me, Freddie. The moonlight suits you too pretty well, love.”
And it truly was, from the freckles on his nose that contrasted with his pale skin to the sparkle in his eyes and including his hair that seemed softer than ever, everything of him which was usually awesome appeared just perfect under the moonlight. No kidding, my boyfriend was the best of all. 
Fred chuckled, mumbling something that sounded like “Your compliment was still better than mine” and pulled me closer to him. We were sitting on a bench, far enough from the house to be sure nothing - or no one, and especially not George or Ginny - would disturb us. We were still stargazing, both lost in thoughts deeper than the other could imagine, and not necessarily really happy. When a shooting star crossed the sky, that’s all naturally that my dearest wish crossed my mind, and fear flooded suddenly in my body. 
I hope we’re all gonna survive this war. 
I immediately felt the urge to be comforted by Fred, like every time I thought of the war inexorably approaching, and like every time, he tightened me a bit more and laid soft kisses on my hair. 
“It will be okay love. We’ll be okay.”
“How can you be so sure? Fred, it can happen so fast…”
“Y/N, listen to me.” His tone was firm but it was only to make me calm down, I knew it. “As long as I’ll be there, nothing will happen to you, I promise. And as long as you’ll be there, nothing will happen to me because I just cannot bear the thought of you being alone. Do you understand? I’ll be yours for forever, and you’ll be mine for forever. If you keep that in mind, then we’ll stay together.”
Our foreheads were now pressed against each other, and my hands were cupping his cheeks. Fred’s eyes were burning, a flame I had only seen a few times making them shine brighter than the sun. It was pure love. At the moment, I was so scared, so terrified and yet feeling so stupid for doubting of us that I reacted the only way I knew. 
“Forever? It isn’t long enough for me, love.”
“Then let’s say for forever and a day.”
“It doesn’t make that much of a difference, does it?”
“A lot can happen in a day.” he whispered before leaning in and pressing his lips against mine. 
And as the fire of our love was slowly consuming us, as the cold air seemed to disappear to be replaced by a warm atmosphere, I was so absorbed in the moment, so focused on his lips and his hands, that it never crossed my mind that Fred had expressed his deepest feelings without stuttering once. 
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
“Molly, you better tell these delinquents to stop their traffic!”
“That’s not traffic, dear aunt Muriel, that’s business.” said Fred with a smirk before tying an imaginary tie. 
Muriel grumbled and threw an imperious glance at Molly, who didn’t do anything but shrugging. 
“They don't listen to me, Muriel. I’m sorry.”
This dear old aunt Muriel had accepted to hide her family, the Weasleys being in danger now that everyone knew Ron was with Harry, and Fred had made a scene as he wanted me to hide with them. Muriel had firstly refused, pretending she wouldn’t have the energy to bear one more person. 
“Trust me, you’ll never survive with me if she doesn’t come with us.” He had muttered, after what Molly had ordered him to shut up for once and had pleaded my cause.
Muriel hadn’t had any other choice than accepting, and I suspected her to know Fred would have found a way to make me come here anyway. As a revenge, she had decided to be more insufferable than usual, which was an exploit according to George. 
“Shut up, it will begin!” suddenly exclaimed Bill, who was here with Fleur for one of the visits that were becoming more and more frequent as the weeks passed. 
Everyone gathered around the radio, Muriel complaining that she was busy writing a very important letter - Ginny confessed to me she had read a few sentences, and Muriel was in fact writing to one of the old blabbermouths she had for friends. After several hissing begging her to shut up, we all waited for Lee to begin his emission. We waited, but… Nothing.
“I don’t understand…” muttered Bill. “I thought-”
“Do you think it means something happened to him?” I asked, petrified at the thought that one of my best friends could be hurt because he had always kept bringing us hope. 
“No, he’s too smart to be caught.” assured George. 
But I caught the worried glance he exchanged with Fred. The silence seemed to last forever, and Bill eventually stopped trying.
“Maybe he just can’t right now,” he said. “I’ll keep trying to catch the signal, we’ll see.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Ginny’s voice was blank, and I turned to see that her face was pale. However, the flame of her determination was burning in her eyes. 
“Harry is at Hogwarts, and apparently the fight is for soon.”
Fuck. That was the first thing that came to my mind. As my brain was trying to process what Ginny had said and what it implied, Molly pressed her on with interrogations. 
“How do you know that? Ginny, is Ron with him? Is he safe? Ginny!”
Without a word, she handed her mother the false galleon I recognized easily. 
“Mum, we’ve got to go to Hogwarts.” said George. 
“How?” asked Molly with a quiet voice.
“The Hog’s Head. There’s a tunnel leading to the room of requirements.” replied Ginny. 
Molly sighed and murmured she had to warn the order. Fred and George got up in the same movement, and I immediately did the same. 
“Y/N, you stay here.”
For a second, I thought it was a joke. A particularly bad one, but a joke. However, I had never seen Fred being so serious. His jaw was clenched and he was frowning, and at the moment his eyes were darker than they had ever been. 
“I- what?” I asked in disbelief. 
Fred glanced at George before sighing. He grabbed my hand and half dragged me to the room we shared with his twin. He sighed once more and quickly passed a hand in his hair. 
“Y/N, I want you to stay here with aunt Muriel.”
“Are you crazy? I won’t stay on the sidelines, Fred. Don’t count on it.”
“Love, please, I just-”
“No!” I yelled. Fred winced. “There’s no way you’re going to fight without me!”
“Love, I just want you to be safe.” He grabbed my hand and lightly kissed my knuckles. “How long will be our forever if something happens to you?”
“Why do you keep thinking I’m the only one who could get hurt? Fred, I know how- how reckless you can be and… And I need to be with you, Fred, I need to be sure you won’t do anything stupid, you understand?”
“And if something happens to me? Y/N, if I die-”
“Don’t say that!” I squealed.
“If I die, who will keep you safe?”
Maybe Fred hadn’t heard me, all absorbed in his thoughts as he was, or maybe he felt the need to get this out of him. I would understand, I was feeling the exact same thing, I wanted to say out loud that maybe I would die too. This way, it would be real, totally real, and I could focus on something else. The way of keeping us alive, for example. But if something had to happen to Fred, if despite all my efforts, his fate was to leave me, then I knew what I would have to do. It was obvious.
“If you die,” I murmured, “then I’ll make sure our forever is still a thing.”
“Don’t say that. Y/N, please, don’t say such a thing. I- I forbid you to… Y/N, if I die- if I don’t make it out alive, promise me- promise me you’ll live. No matter what love, I need to know you’ll carry on.”
“Only if you promise the same.”
And that promise was sealed with the saddest kiss we had ever shared, our tears giving it a salty taste, our hands grabbing the other’s clothes in the same way you grip on the last thing that makes you alive. And it was true; at the moment, Fred was the only thing that helped me stay sane, and I had the firm conviction that our survival depended on each other. 
From the moment I had stepped in the room of requirements until the moment everything had gone black around me, from the moment Fred had made me swear to stay next to him until the moment I had lost him between two green flashes of light, from the moment I had stumbled upon Percy to the moment I had run into Fred’s arms, my own body had been controlled by the most primitive survival instinct. A rage I didn’t suspect had taken over me, making me kill enemy after enemy, without ever considering the fact that they were human. One the wrong side, maybe, despicable, for sure, but still human, with maybe children that were waiting for them at home. Not one second did I think of anything else than being enveloped in Fred’s arms after the end of the war, enjoying our victory hopefully without any loss and living our life like we deserved. But I had to get through this, I had promised him I would, and he had promised me too. 
I was unable to open my eyes, my body being entirely sore and my head seeming on the verge of the explosion. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t move to get rid of this small pebble that was planting itself in my shoulder blade. The blood was rushing behind my ears, and the sound was not without recalling the sound of a river. It was somehow soothing. 
And slowly, or as it seemed for me as I didn’t have any way to measure time, the adrenaline in my veins disappeared, letting my heart beat less quickly and I could eventually hear what surrounded me. At first, it only sounded like a buzzing, and some noises gradually distinguished themselves. Steps near my head. Loud voices. Laughters. Cries. And after the hearing, it was my sight that came back to normal. 
The light surrounding me was forming a bright halo behind my closed eyelids. When my eyes were finally used to such a brightness, they flickered open. The very first thing I saw was a bunch of vaults above me, some of them half destructed and the sky being visible in some places. The second thing I saw was a glimpse of red hair. A smile immediately stretched my lips before disappearing. It was George, and something was wrong.
“George?” I asked quietly, my throat being so sore that this only world almost made me throw up. 
When George looked at me with puffy red eyes, my stomach twisted into a painful knot. It took a lot of energy for me to do something as simple as looking around me, but nowhere did I see the smile I needed. I wanted to ask him where Fred was, if everyone was okay, but I only managed to moan weakly. Much to my horror, tears flooded from George’s eyes and he pulled me against him without an ounce of delicacy. He just tightened me against his chest, clutching desperately on the back of my shirt, loud sobs shaking his shoulders. Without even knowing what had happened - or knowing it but refusing to believe it - I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him as tight as I could, feeling the tears rolling on my cheeks despite myself. 
George cried for a long time, and so did I without even being fixed on why we were such a wreck at the moment. When finally he stopped crying, he pushed me back just enough to look at me in the eyes without letting go of my shoulders. And when I looked into these eyes I knew so well and not only because they looked like Fred’s, when I saw the most heart wrenching desperation I could ever see, I slowly understood. And slowly, I felt the same desperation invading my eyes, and an excruciating pain taking over my body, because he had promised. He had promised nothing would happen to him. 
George grabbed my hand and without a word, he helped me get up.  My legs were too weak to support my own weight, let alone the weight of my pain, and I clung onto him like the lifeline that prevented me from drowning in my sorrow. We walked slowly, one step after the other, and it felt like we were struggling against a powerful courant. When they saw us, George’s siblings - I couldn’t recognize who -  stepped backward, none of them saying anything. Another step, and another. Arthur helped Molly get up, and she obliged in a painful sob. 
When she got up, I saw Fred’s body.
His clothes were torn and dirty. Blood covered the fabric and his skin. His eyes were closed, and he was still smiling. But he was dead. 
My knees gave up on me and I fell on the ground. I grabbed his hand desperately, his skin was as cold as ice and I didn’t recognize its touch, which used to bring me so much comfort because it was always so warm. And the tears were continuously rolling, blinding me whereas I wanted to memorize each detail of his face. Then the sobs arrived, all more painful than the precedent but still pleasant compared to the pain in my heart. George was crying next to me, an arm still around my shoulders, and we stayed like this for a long time. 
The night was falling on the castle, yet what remained from the Great Hall was still full of broken souls like George and I. People who weren’t ready to leave the last place they had seen their loved ones. George’s family had come back to the Burrow, preferring to mourn Fred in the intimacy of their house, but we weren’t ready yet. We were still sitting on the ground, in front of an empty place where Fred’s body had been laying before being carried away. 
We were staring blankly in front of us, George’s arm around my shoulder and my head resting on his, probably doing the same thing, namely recalling Fred. 
“I didn’t say I loved him…” My throat was sore after all the sobs that had shaken my body, yet I needed to say it, because the guilt and the regrets were suffocating me. 
“He knew it.” replied George, his voice as weak as mine and oh so broken. 
And I couldn’t know it, but George was remembering the last time Fred had rambled about me in front of him. “You have no idea on how much I love her, Georgie.” he had said with a goofy smile. “I would do anything for her… She’s the love of my life, I know it. You know what? When all of this is over, I’ll marry her.” 
“He knew it and he loved you too, Y/N.”
“And he loved you too. He was so proud of you, George.”
And we burst into tears, hugging each other with the same strength we wanted to hug Fred with, with the desperation we shared of having lost one of the most important persons in our lives. 
We cried because Fred was dead and at the moment, it felt like we would always cry because this loss was too much for us to bear. 
“I’ll be yours for forever, and you’ll be mine for forever. If you keep that in mind, then we’ll stay together.”
“Forever? It isn’t long enough for me, love.”
“Then let’s say for forever and a day.”
“It doesn’t make that much of a difference, does it?”
I was so stupid, because now, I would give anything for just one more day with you.
One day to say I love you. 
One day to live the forever we deserved. 
115 notes · View notes
nanasarea · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
VII
𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵: In a world where soulmates can visit each other in their dreams and can only remember the dreams once they found each other, what happens when you’re disappointed at the man of your dreams?
𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: angst and fluff
𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: reader x Jaemin
𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1.6k
𝘢/𝘯: please tell me what y'all think of the series so far!!
𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵  𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵  𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵
Tag list: @keiboo @minavenue​ 
I  II  III  IV  V  VI VII
Tumblr media
“You get so much more surly when you drink, do you know that?” Chenle asked as he watched Jaemin chug another drink down. 
“I am not surly!” Jaemin yelled before sitting down next to Chenle and resting his head on his shoulder. 
“How do you smell so much like tequila? You hate tequila.” Chenle sighed.
“Is he always like this?” Jisung asked, chuckling at the interaction in front of him. 
“Most of the time, yes.” Chenle answered. “Thanks for keeping me company, I couldn’t handle taking care of him by myself.” He added.
“No problem. Besides, I like scolding my friends once they get sober again, it intensifies the nagging.” Jisung joked. “Huh, smart.” Chenle said as he continued to down his drink.
“What about your girlfriend?” Chenle asked, making Jisung both confused and amused. 
“Girlfriend? First of all, what part of me made you think I was straight so I can change it immediately.” Jisung laughed and took a sip from his cup. “Second of all, if you’re referring to Patrick, that’s my younger cousin and she caught a ride home with a friend, she still has a curfew.” Jisung explained.
“Oh, sorry, man, should’ve guessed from your cuffed jeans.” Chenle joked.
 “And? Do you also listen to boy in blue? Or whatever the equivalent to do you listen to girl in red is.” Jisung asked. 
“Indeed, I am the gay.” Chenle said, raising his cup. “And we shall drink to that!” Jisung announced, so they both drank before Jisung took a seat next to Chenle.
“Do you ever wonder like.” As Jisung looked at Chenle, he saw him looking at the abyss with a calm expression. “Why do we urinate?” Chenle asked, turning to face Jisung, who only stared at him in disbelief.
“Are you really that drunk?” Jisung laughed, causing Chenle to shake his hand as he joined in on the laughter. 
“Then you must have a fever!” Jisung joked, placing his hand on Chenle’s forehead to check his temperature as a joke. They both laughed as Jisung took his hand away before they realised that both of their marks were fading.
“Wait-“ Chenle said, looking at Jisung’s hand, his hand shooting up to feel his forehead as he shifted his gaze onto Jisun, who just nodded, signalling that Chenle’s forehead mark has indeed faded and had been left with only the outline.
“Are we about to kiss right now?” Chenle asked, jokingly fixing his hair behind his ear. 
“Do you want us to?” Jisung asked in a serious tone, causing him to blush and slightly nod, giving Jisung the green light to close the gap between the two.
“Did you just Debby me?” Jisung asked, once he pulled away, his hand still on Chenle’s cheek, right before they both started laughing. 
“This might be the alcohol talking, but if you don’t go back to kissing me, I will extremely upset an-“ And with that, Chenle was cut off by Jisung kissing him again as Jaemin continued to drift off to sleep in the corner.
Tumblr media
As Jaemin stopped rubbing his eyes, he saw me walking towards the coffee machine. As I waited for my refill, I noticed him, shaking and curled up into a ball, his eyes red and puffy. 
“Hey.” I greeted, trying to use the softest voice possible. 
“Hey.” He greeted back, his voice cracking, making him clear his throat before making eye contact. “Guess you wanna wake up now?” He asked, making me chuckle.
“I might hate you, but I’m not gonna leave you to cry on your own.” I said, sitting down next to him.
“So, do you need comfort or do you wanna talk about it right now?” I asked, patting my shoulder, signalling him to rest his head on it.
“You sure you want to hear me cry about something so insignificant?” He chuckled, which made me place my hand on his knee. 
“You’ve heard me cry over literal spilled milk, I think we’re past that.”
“You want me to just listen?” I asked, to which he nodded while sniffling. 
“I wanted to make things right, but it's too late, isn’t it?” He asked, to which I just shook my head. 
“I’m just so use to people leaving and abandoning me, without even allowing us to have a normal conversation to sort things out. Plus, you know me. I have horrible social and communication skills, I didn’t have many friends growing up, and being an only child didn’t really help with that.” He said, trying to hold back his tears. 
“I grew up with my parents’ friends, which means I had to grow up faster, to be able to understand their conversations. I always thought it made me mature, which I have now figured out is just a fancy way of saying trauma, isn’t it?” He asked, tears rolling down his face occasionally.
“Yeah, I understand that, understand more than I care to admit.” “You too, huh?” I nodded, to which he finally smiled for second.
“I guess we’re not soulmates for nothing.” He chuckled. 
I rolled my eyes and slightly pushed him away in a playful manner before he stood up.
“Come on, while we’re still dreaming, let me buy you a drink or two to make up for being a dick tonight.” Jaemin said, extending his hand to pull me up.
“Tonight?” I asked, playfully. 
“I’ll buy you more for all of the other times I was a dick in our next dream.” He rolled his eyes. 
41 notes · View notes