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fortisfiliae · 4 years

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Promised Part 13 - Tom Riddle x reader

Summary: In this story, Tom didn’t grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader’s sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Disclaimer: Please be aware that I don’t condone any of this in real life. (GIF is not mine)

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Word count: 3.1k

Part 13 - Pranks & Proper Paybacks

The quill in your hand scratched lightly over the parchment as you were taking notes for Astronomy in the library. It was quiet, as usual, except for the occasional questions and thereof resulting explanations between Ben and Camille. She helped him study for his upcoming Herbology exam, for which he clearly hadn’t revised enough yet. Silly boy.

Tom was there too and sat next to you, completing the quartet round the table. He tried his best not to hiss at them every time Ben asked something. You noticed from the corner of your eye, how he gulped down every thought that built up in his head when another word poured from Ben’s mouth. It was amusing, to say the least, seeing Tom battling with himself to keep his cool. He still didn’t like Ben very much and would much rather study with you alone. But the fact that he had voluntarily sat down with the three of you, tried to behave and didn’t yell at Ben whenever he opened his mouth, told you that he probably didn’t hate him as much as he pretended to.

“So, about the Fluxweed again,” Ben whispered, browsing through his book. “How many days does it have to grow?”

Camille was about to answer when Tom pressed his palm against his forehead and exhaled dramatically. “Sixteen, Ben. It’s sixteen. She’s told you that three times at least.”

Ben took a quick look at Tom, while still fumbling through the book. “I know, mate. I just can’t memorise it. Why do I even need to know that?”

Tom flung a piece of parchment toward him, pointing at the empty sheet. “Write it down, then. There are some things you must know. Get over it.”

“Alright, alright,” Ben grinned and didn’t seem to care about Tom’s tone at all. “I’ll write it down, see? Fluxweed takes thirteen days to grow. Happy now?”

“Sixteen,” Camille, Tom and you sighed in unison.

“Oh.” He crossed out the number and sloppily wrote the correct one above it. “Sixteen then.”

Camille and you chuckled to yourselves while Tom only shook his head slightly, his eyes back inside his own book. Ben certainly was careless, or to be more precise, a lot more careless than Camille, Tom and you when it came to grades. The way he talked about homework and even exams was astonishing. He hadn’t even studied for his O.W.L. in Care for Magical Creatures in his fifth year, and he still got an ‘Exceeds Expectations’. Or so he had told you. He had always found a way to talk his way out of things, which was reasonable. Teachers really seemed to like him. Or rather do anything to stop him from talking once in a while.

“Oh, wait,” Ben said again.

“Just read your book,” Tom grunted.

“No, hang on.”

Ben stood up and stretched his arm out quickly, reaching and grasping for something to your left. You all turned your heads and saw him catching something that had been flying right at you.

“I might be bad at Herbology. But you’re lucky I’m a bloody good Seeker,” he said and twisted the thin thing between his fingers.

“What is it?” Camille asked. “Let me see.”

Ben put the thing down onto the desk, still pressing his index finger on top of it. “It’s a quill. But it appears to be jinxed. It was flying on its own and headed right for your face,” he said and looked at you. “Still wants to, I can feel it moving.”

The grey quill twitched eagerly beneath Ben’s hand, trying to escape and pointed its sharp tip right at you, ready to pierce into your skin.

“Not again,” you mumbled.

“Again?”

Things, odd things, had been happening during the week. Someone had definitely played some pranks and antics on you. You hadn’t found out who it was yet, but it certainly had become pesky. On Monday, someone had left you a note that said Professor Merrythought wanted a word with you. Once you had arrived at the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom however, you were met with a confused teacher and had a hard time explaining yourself. Tuesday, someone had poured Rash Powder over your dinner. You had almost taken a bite but thankfully had noticed the unfamiliar smell in time. Wednesday was more subtle. There had been puddles and slippery spots everywhere you stepped. Avoiding them had been a tedious task. And now, on Thursday, this. The quill didn’t look like it could badly injure you, but its vivid nature was a sign for a hex, rather than a jinx. No matter who it was, all those things did tear on your nerves. Not only because the pranks got to you, but because there was a possibility someone had been following you without you noticing. Every time you had gone to the Come and Go Room you had turned around and checked if someone was behind you, just in case. That was the exhausting part.

“Just some pranks,” you explained. “I don’t know who or why, but it’s getting fairly ridiculous.”

“Could someone,” Ben puffed. “Stop this thing? It’s trying to escape.”

Tom pointed his wand directly at the quill and rolled his wrist. It lit up for a fraction of a second and crumbled to dust right after.

“Ouch,” Ben hissed and fanned his hand through the air hastily before putting his index inside his mouth. “Thanks, mate.”

Tom smirked complacently, partly for the spell he had just cast and partly for burning Ben’s fingertip. “Anytime, mate.”

Camille dragged her finger through the ashes, took a good look at them and rubbed it off between her index and her thumb. “Who would do that?”

“I don’t know,” you answered.

“Avery and Lestrange again, perhaps?” she asked.

“Unlikely,” Tom said. “I checked on them some days ago. They’re still with Carpe most of the time, scrubbing the floors and polishing trophies. And besides, they wouldn’t dare.”

“Who else could it be then?” Camille asked as she blew the remaining ashes off the desk with a quick cleaning spell.

The four of you exchanged looks around the table. “To be honest,” Tom began. “I was suspecting you for a while, Ben.”

“Me?” Ben asked wide-eyed. “Why would I do that? I just stopped that quill.”

“‘I’m aware, I’ve seen that now.”

Camille hummed, deep in thought. “Wait,” she said. “What about Freda? Freda Morris.”

“The head girl?” Ben asked.

“Yes,” she said. “She was so jealous at Slughorn’s party, wasn’t she?”

Tom looked at you, biting on the inside of his lower lip, then nodded. “That doesn’t sound too far fetched.”

“I wouldn’t have thought she’d be so creative,” you said while picking up your books. “Well, I’ll keep an eye on her then.”

Once you had gathered all your things, you got up and waited for Tom to do the same.

“Where are you going?” Camille asked. “It’s not even seven yet.”

“I have to,” you stopped yourself. You had to tend to the potion in the Come and Go Room again. Needless to say, you couldn’t tell them that. “I have to go and look after Nagini. The snake. She’s shedding at the moment. Talk to you soon.”

“Let us know if something else happens,” Camille said and waved you goodbye.

Tom followed you silently. Of course, they didn’t ask him why he had to come and check on Nagini as well. The perks of being intimidating. Apart from this, Camille and Ben surely didn’t mind studying without him nagging all the time.

On your way out, right when you left the library and headed toward the grand staircase, Tom and you were halted by another student. Platinum blonde and blue-eyed, Abraxas Malfoy, who was one of Tom’s ever so devious sycophants, locked eyes with him.

“Tom,” he greeted and stopped right in his tracks.

“Abraxas,” Tom replied.

Oh, what did he want now? There wasn’t a lot of time until the potion had to be stirred, so you hoped Malfoy wouldn’t keep you from going any longer.

“So,” Abraxas began. “I’ve seen, you like to keep new company these days.”

Tom frowned and looked over his shoulder. Clearly, Abraxas didn’t mean you. “What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything,” he said and chortled a sour laugh. “I’m just observing. You’re dealing with mudbloods now?”

He was talking about Ben. Malfoy and Tom’s other ‘friends’ had probably seen you in the library together. Or in the Three Broomsticks, some weeks ago. Abraxas must have felt really brave to talk to the head boy in this way. His chest was swollen with pride and the glint in his gaze spoke more than he could have ever said. He was out to get something from this conversation.

Tom only exhaled sharply and stared back at Malfoy, completely unconcerned about his reproach. “And how come that’s any of your business, exactly?”

“Oh, it isn’t of course,” Abraxas answered. “I was just surprised. Shocked even.”

“I do apologize,” Tom sneered, clicking his tongue in fake sympathy. “That the gathering of other people, who don’t concern you in the slightest, has ruined your precious day.”

Abraxas stared back at him, obviously trying hard to keep calm. His smile still sat neatly on his face; it were his eyes that betrayed him. “No need to worry about me. I merely started thinking, daydreaming, that your Grandfather might not appreciate that.”

Now he had gone too far. Tom took a step closer, his nostrils flared for a moment and a vein on his neck stood out. “Abraxas,” he whispered so spitefully, it almost sounded like he was talking in Parseltongue, words spilling out of him like pure venom. “I’d advise you to worry about your own life. Because if you don’t, wouldn’t it be tragic if your Mother found out what happened last year at your house? When the maid left and never came back? What was the reason again? If only I remembered. Oh, I do.”

Malfoy’s expression changed momentarily, his head sunk and his eyes darted across the floor, trying hard to think of what to answer.

“Do we understand each other?” Tom asked.

Abraxas nodded, lips thin and full of fury. He instinctively retracted and took a step back, keeping his head low and looked up at Tom through knitted brows.

“Good,” Tom said and left Malfoy standing there.

Continuing to walk to the grand staircase with you, he appeared like nothing but a casual chat between two friends had just happened.

“Well,” you said after Abraxas was out of earshot. “That was interesting.”

“They’re all so stupid, sometimes I wonder how they’ve lived this long,” Tom replied. “I have dirt on every single one of them. And they try to blackmail me. Ridiculous.”

“Idiots indeed,” you shook your head. “Do I want to know what happened to the maid?”

“I guess not. It’s a long, repulsive story.”

No doubt it was. Abraxas was known for his dreadful ways and how he had tormented younger students ever since. He wasn’t like Avery or Lestrange, a dumb follower, who had Hippogriff crap for brains. No, he was mindful, awfully aware of his surroundings and constantly seemed to brood about his next step. He reminded you of Marvolo, they both had the same aura, cold and demeaning, always looking for ways to take advantage of other people’s misery. It was no surprise that he had tried to intimidate Tom, maybe even pass him in their hierarchy by threatening to tell everyone about his association with a muggle-born. But he hadn’t thought it through. Tom Riddle wasn’t one to mess with and he had just made that crystal clear. Ben might have not been his friend, but still, he hadn’t let Abraxas speak ill of him.

“I wouldn’t have thought you liked Ben,” you said once you turned another corner.

Tom opened his mouth and looked at you in disbelief for a moment, as if you had just insulted him, before he started talking. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, it just seemed like it. You came to his defence so quickly. That’s why I assumed.”

“This wasn’t about Hilt. It was about me, Marvolo and that bootlicker Malfoy.”

“Whatever you say,” you replied teasingly while Tom rolled his eyes.

Friday evolved to be the worst day of the week. Not only had you almost gotten detention for falling victim to a Knockback jinx during Defence Against the Dark Arts if Camille hadn’t come to your rescue. Professor Merrythought still hadn’t forgotten about your visit on Monday and thought you were trying to disturb her lesson again. But in addition, your curriculum almost hindered you from tending to your potion completely. It had become nearly impossible to handle everything at once. Your classes, homework, studying for the N.E.W.T.s, taking care of the antidote and on top of all that, those stupid pranks. It had been draining and your body ached for a bit of rest.

On your way to Tom’s dorm, when the sun had already set and you were finally done with everything for the day, you heard the clink of a door handle turning behind you. It almost had gone overheard, the only thing you wanted to do was sit down for a moment and unwind, even if only for an hour. You had already reached the door to Tom’s room and could have just entered to forget about the world for a while. But there was this unsettling feeling inside of you and Camille’s words from the library ran through your head again. You turned around. And thank Merlin you did.

Freda Morris stood in her own door frame, smirking maliciously, with her wand pointed right at you. She must have been taken by surprise, it didn’t seem like she had expected you to look at her. Her wand sank in an instant before she hid it behind her back.

“You,” you muttered, taking some steps her way. “It was you all week, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said smiling, trying to take the high ground, but you wouldn’t let her.

“Just admit it at least. Coward. You know exactly what I’m talking about and you were just trying to do it again, weren’t you?”

Freda shook her head and put a strand of hair behind her ear with her skinny fingers. “I’m head girl, dear. I would never do anything to harm another student if that is what you’re implying. I don’t know what could have given you the idea.”

“Oh shut up,” you spat. “Head girl, yes. An awful excuse for one at best.”

The door behind you opened and Tom appeared from inside. He looked out into the hallway frowning. “What’s all that noise about?”

“Your fiancée’s throwing a fit.”

“Camille was right,” you said, still not taking your eyes off Freda. “It was her. The note, the quill and everything else. I just caught her right in the act.”

Freda heaved one single, shrill laugh at your words and straightened her posture. “I just told you, I would never do such things.”

“What were you doing then? Pointing your wand at me, when I have my back turned on you.”

She pondered, taken aback, while she looked at Tom beside you until her grin appeared back on her face. “You’re imagining things. I was just leaving my room to go and talk to Professor Dippet. That’s when you started to yell at me for no reason.”

“Liar!”

She didn’t lower herself to even look at you anymore. Instead, she looked at Tom. “Is this really what you look for in a woman? Hysterical and hostile? I would have thought you had better taste.”

The need to go up to her and slap her across the face seemed almost unbearable. Your hands were balled into fists and it took all your might not to take out your own wand and pay her back everything she had done to you, times ten. Tom on the other hand stayed calm and smiled weakly while looking back at her.

“Don’t worry about my taste, Freda,” he said. “I’d rather worry about your memory. Maybe you haven’t been informed, which would be very unfortunate seeing that you are head girl, but Professor Dippet isn’t in Hogwarts today. He’s been called in by the Wizengamot. How could you have been on your way to him then?”

Freda’s smile faltered, her eyes darting back and forth between Tom and you. “I must have not gotten his owl then.”

“Certainly,” Tom said. “I want a word. Now.”

“No,” you intervened and he stopped his movements to look at you. “I can do this myself.”

Tom stepped back with a small smirk on his face. Freda was in for a treat. You walked up to her until there was only a hand’s breadth of space between your faces.

“Listen now,” you said, your heart pumping strongly inside your chest. “I don’t know what you were thinking. If you were thinking. But I swear, if you ever play another of your pranks on me again, I-”

“You what?” she asked and shoved you by the shoulder. “Do you think I’m scared of you?”

The moment she had touched you, you felt something moving by your feet. Nagini had slithered out through Tom’s open door and hissed louder than you had ever heard before. Freda gasped and took several steps backwards, startled by the snake. Nagini placed herself between the two of you and reared up, looking as huge and aggressive as ever. Her hisses were meant for one person only and when you looked back at Tom, you recognised that he wasn’t talking to the snake. She had come to your defence on her own.

“Take that thing away,” Freda yelled. “Make it stop.”

“Or what?” you asked. “You might have not been scared of me yet, but I promise you, give me one more reason and you will be.”

She didn’t dare answer, still looking down at Nagini in utmost panic and tried to foresee every move the snake was about to make. You savoured on the sight for a moment, fervently enjoying how Freda fumbled for the doorknob behind herself.

“Come Nagini,” you then said as you turned around. “Leave her alone. For now.”

Please consider leaving a comment and tell me what you think so far :) They motivate me so much to keep writing! Let me know if you want to be tagged, or untagged. Thank you for reading!

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tarantulas4davey · 3 years

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"■ - Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon" and "♥ - family headcanon" for al or race (or both)!!!!

jac, my love, you know me so well (extra proof of that is you put both because,,,, y e a h)

this post is probably going to be horrifyingly long so lmk if the read more thingy doesn’t work

tw: i mention death under both of their family hcs, and drinking/alcoholism and abuse under albert’s. it’s nothing graphic, but it’s there. oh and race’s bio dad gets arrested but i don’t describe it or mention what he did lol

- race

◻️.

his room either looks like a bomb went off or it’s perfectly clean and there’s ABSOLUTELY no in between

cause he’s either been too lazy to clean it for the past month or he’s got randomly motivated for no reason and cleaned everything in one afternoon

he has a bad habit of just putting dishes in the sink and never actually washing them

he also just leaves all the stuff he used to cook out constantly cause he’s too excited for the food

he’s somehow both the best AND the worst roommate

like yeah it kinda leaves messes everywhere BUT he also keeps your stuff how you like it and won’t eat your food

overall a bit of a mess but he means well and nothing gets burned or broken (very often)

❤️.

his birth mom died when he was,,,, 6? and his dad was arrested a couple months later (could’ve been related, could’ve not been, fuck if he knows), so he ended up in the foster system

because of this, he’s always seen his friends as his family cause they’ve been more stable than his home life

when he was 14 or 15 he was taken in and later adopted by the lovely miss medda larkin (along with 16 year old jack kelly and 13 year old charlie ‘crutchie’ morris, not the point)

his idea of family changes a lot after he’s adopted, cause he’s in a healthy, happy, stable home for pretty much the first time in his entire life

he still sees his friend group as his family, too, cause they’re his people and they understand him and they’re all trauma bonded for life

so when him and albert (yes this is ralbert we all know what you expected when you saw my username nobody be surprised) finally get together and are out in the real world living together and graduating college and getting married it’s really nothing new to him cause he’s been forging his own little family for as long as he can remember

whenever he DOES have kids, he makes sure that they get what he never got from the very beginning, cause as much as he loves his family, all of them have been through far too much and he wants to break the cycle

- albert

◻️.

everything in his room has a place but it only makes sense to him

like sure, to most people it just looks like he’s got random shit thrown all over his desk, but to HIM everything’s in its place and he can find everything easily enough

he’s generally tidier than race, but he cleans MUCH less often so if there’s a mess it’s staying there for months

he doesn’t mind doing the dishes but he has never once even LOOKED at a vacuum or duster (he didn’t even know they had any in the apartment til race was cleaning the sitting area when he got back from class one day)

he’s the type of roommate that prefers going shopping together so that there’s not really any “off limit” foods cause you bought it all at the same time but he’ll respect the ‘this is mine’ notes if they’re there

shouldn’t be allowed to cook cause he burns shit CONSTANTLY. they have a stool against the wall under the fire alarm cause albert sets it off like once a week and it’s not worth the effort of dragging a chair over

❤️.

i feel the need to state that albert (just like pretty much all the newsies, it’s just a thing babe) also has a very found family vibe but it’s different to how race’s found family works so ✨here we go✨

his mom died when he was 11, and his dad, who had always been a bit of a drunk, started drinking even more heavily after her passing

al has 2 significantly older brothers - the oldest moved out when he was 10, and both were out of the house by the time he was 12

the abuse started when he was 14. his dad lost his job and the drinking escalated even more, and he started taking his anger out on albert - especially now that there was nobody around to protect him

albert didn’t talk about it for over a year, but eventually it got so bad he was visibly busted up one day at school and his friends noticed. he was dismissive about it at first, then angry and defensive when they kept pushing out of worry

a couple days later it got even worse, and he snuck out his bedroom window and ran away. he showed up on medda’s doorstep at,,,, 3am? 4am? crying and bloody and asking for help. from there, medda got in contact with his maternal aunt that lived in the city and he lived with her until he went off to college

the abuse, coupled with the fact that his brothers had both seen what was happening but did NOTHING to help him out of fear, changed the fundamentals of how he viewed family

his main support was race, as well as medda considering she was the one that helped him get out of the situation, and he was close with his aunt for the rest of his life. she was young and ill-equipped to deal with a teenage boy, let alone a traumatized one, but they learned together and figured it out as they went.

his childhood was normal, for the most part (other than random bouts of shouting matches between his parents and drunken rages from his dad, but those were inconsistent at their worst), until the death of his mother, but he still wants to ensure he never makes his kids feel as helpless as he did

aka ralbert working together to make sure they break the cycle and create a healthy, happy environment for their kids, AND that they support eachother whenever life gets rough :))))))

i- I LOVE THEM SO MUCH FJEHHDHDVD

apparently i had a lot of Thoughts™️ cause this is such a long winded post

✨anyway✨ thank you jac ilysm !!!

25 notes · View notes

doexoeyes · 3 years

Text

Of Finches & Firsts

Ahhhhhhhh! Thank u so much for all the notes, I wasn’t expecting it but I'm very very grateful ♡ since I have 4 chapters already up on aoo3 & wattpad, I'm gonna be able to update these upcoming chapters pretty consistently so here you go, chapter 2! Thank you again and I hope you enjoy.

Things to note for this chapter : “N/y/n” means ‘not your name’ but something close to it. For example if your name is Ellie, it could be Allie. Really silly thing to note but just so you’re not confused when u get to that part ♡

In case you wanna read ahead:

Archive Of Our own link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26707513

Wattpad link:

https://my.w.tt/ZoUHpu1e59

Summary: “A Hufflepuff? Crushing on a Slytherin? Sounds like the start of a terrible joke to me, but ok.” You’ve harbored feelings for Draco Malfoy since your first year at Hogwarts. Secretly, of course, and very much from afar. But when you’re finally taken out of your role of being a background character in his life, will it be what you always wanted, or what you wish you never knew?

Chapters

Chapter 1 ♡ Chapter 2 ♡ Chapter 3

Chapter 2: The Trouble With Tournaments

Your fourth year brought on the news of The Triwizard Tournament, which was to be held at Hogwarts that very year. This induced a frenzy of excitement from everyone, especially those who were interested in participating themselves, along with the announcement that two other schools were to be competing with them as well.

The excitement died down for many, however, when Dumbledore had announced that no student under the age of 17 could volunteer to participate, which was more than half of those attending, you included. You didn’t mind it really, seeing as you had no interest in competing for the Triwizard cup (you weren’t very athletic or even brave enough for that matter), but many of your Hufflepuff housemates were upset about the newly implemented rule.

From your spot in the table you were able to look across the room and spot Draco, who was seated with his Slytherin housemates. He rolled his eyes and looked very displeased so you could only assume that he was interested in putting his name in the goblet. You felt a surge of gratitude for Dumbledore and his new rule then. If his words were anything to heed, the challenges the tournament consisted of was nothing to laugh at.

The schools you would be competing with was Beaxbatons Academy of Magic and Drumstrang Institute and all the students were very enthused with the new arrivals, Mauve included.

“Viktor Krum? More like Viktor Yum,” she teased with a mischievous wink towards said boy’s direction, sending him a little wave.

You lightly elbowed her shoulder, embarrassed at your daring friend’s antics, yet were unable to stifle back a laugh. Despite being a Hufflepuff, Mauve could very much rival any Gryfiindor’s bravery. Especially when it came to boys.

“He just got here and you’re already making googly eyes at him? Geez Mauve, give him a second to stretch his legs at least,” you teased as Mauve tossed a pea at you, causing you to snicker.

“Oh ha-ha. Keep in mind that with the Triwizard Tournament there’s the Yule Ball and there’s no way I’m letting you attend without a date, so you better have some boys in mind ‘cause Merlin knows I’m not gonna be the one scrambling to find you one last minute,” she said as she began to dig into the feast.

Your cheeks reddened as you found your eyes wondering back to Draco, who at the moment seemed to be laughing at something Blaise Zabini had said.

Despite being best friends, you never told Mauve about your crush on Draco for several reasons:

1. It was Draco Malfoy, the ‘Slytherin prince’.

2. Mauve absolutely despised Draco Malfoy, the ‘Slytherin prince’.

3. She would probably pressure you to say more than two words to Draco Malfoy, the ‘Slytherin prince’, because despite her personal feelings for him, she was as supportive a friend as possible and as pushy as one could be.

Besides, you thought, it’s not like anything was ever going to happen with him.

And as for the Yule Ball, Draco would never be interested in being your date. You made a mental note to think of someone before the time came just so Mauve could be pleased.

Talk of the tournament had shifted one day, however, when they announced the participants and Harry Potter, a fourth year, was picked by the Goblet of Fire.

Not only was Harry not 17, but the champion for Hogwarts was already picked: fellow Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory. Many blamed Harry, believing he had done some spell to outdo the enchantment Dumbledore had casted around the Goblet. You yourself, however, didn’t know what to think. From what you knew and experienced about Harry, it didn’t seem like something he’d do. Still, someone threw his name in and now Hogwarts had two champions.

“Us Hufflepuffs can never catch a break, can we?” Augustus Boggs, a fellow fourth year, said with a sigh.

You were presently in the Hufflepuff common room, where Mauve and you immediately headed to right after the champions were named.

“Right? We get one chance to be known and celebrated in the school and now we have to share it with Gryffindor. As if they don’t get enough praise and attention,” another boy, Milton Morris chided in, looking just as annoyed.

Mauve shook her head at them from her spot on the couch.

“Come on boys, do relax will you? Even with his name being called, do you really think Harry Potter has a chance of winning the tournament, especially with Cedric as our champion? Harry’s cool and all but come on, he’s just a fourth year. He’s way in over his head. Bet he’s regretting putting his name in. Kinda feel for him, if I’m honest,” she admitted.

You had been listening to all the conversations being had in the room, and despite being a bit upset at what transpired, you couldn’t seem to agree with what most were saying.

“I don’t know guys...Harry looked shocked, terrified even, when Dumbledore announced his name. Now, I can’t say he didn’t manage a way to throw his name in the Goblet because I wasn’t there, but his reaction seemed incredibly genuine and I never thought of Harry as a convincing liar,” you stated, fiddling with the ends of your bright yellow scarf.

Augustus, Mauve, and Milton seemed to think what you said over for a moment before finally shrugging their shoulders and shifting the subject to discussing ways to get back at Harry.

You rolled your eyes, leaving the conversation mentally before deciding to leave it physically as well. No one cared to listen to you anyways.

Mauve flashed you a look of concern when you got up from the couch, but you quickly informed her of your plan to head to the astronomy tower to get some air and maybe start on a sketch or two.

The conversations being had in the room were making you feel anxious and sick, especially when most of them consisted of bashing on the poor boy who you truly believed was innocent. It was unlike your house to act this way, but given the circumstances, you sadly understood why they were so fired up. A part of you thought back to Cedric and wondered what was going on in his head. The pressure to win was now doubled and you couldn’t imagine what he was going through.

Sketch book and pencil pouch now in hand, you made your way up the top of the tower and settled down in your spot on the floor near the middle of the room. You hummed as you opened up the pouch and took out a black pencil, flipping to an empty page on your nearly filled book.

Sketching was an escape for you and you were very much in need of one at the moment. Lost in the way your pencil slid across the page, you didn’t hear the footsteps on the stairs or even noticed the person when they made their way up.

“Do you mind?” said the person, and you jumped at the sudden break of silence.

“Oh!” you yelped, your foot accidentally kicking your open pouch, causing the pencils inside to roll over as it fell on its side.

You stayed there, frozen for a moment as you stared at none other than Draco Malfoy. He remained still by the stairs, brows furrowed at you and you cursed under your breath as you got on your knees and scrambled to pick up the scattered pencils off the floor.

“Sorry, sorry. I...I was so concentrated, you just startled me,” you said sheepishly, a blush threatening to spread across your cheeks, a common occurrence whenever Draco was in the room.

He watched you pick your things up, not bothering to respond to your admission. Instead he analyzed you silently and you could feel his gaze as if it were burning right through you. It was then that he began to walk towards you and you froze when his perfectly shiny black shoe made contact with a pencil you were about to reach over for.

“Hufflepuff, is that you?” he asked simply and you lifted your head up immediately.

“Umm...yes. It’s me,” you said and your cheeks betrayed you once again as you could feel the warmth radiating off of them.

“Of course it’d be you up here. We keep running into each other. I’m starting to think you’re stalking me,” he said in a cocky manner and it took everything in your power not to scream in complete frustration and embarrassment because of course this looked bad and of course you’d look like some freaky stalker.

Instead, however, you babbled on like an idiot.

“I-I..ummm...I...n-no I...never...umm...”

Draco frowned.

“Relax, will you? I wasn’t serious. Unless you really are stalking me and then I’d say you’re doing a rather shit job at it as the whole point is to not get caught,” he stated, rolling his eyes.

All you could do was stay there in silence until you realized you were still on the floor, on your knees. Clearing your throat, you got up, pouch and book in hand.

“I’ll just go, sorry,” you said, clutching your things to your chest as you began to walk away.

“N/y/n, right?” he simply called out and you stopped in your tracks, slowly turning back to face him.

“Your name?” he asked, brow raised.

Realization dawned on your face. He remembered your name.

Well, almost.

“Y/n, actually, but you were close,” you said offering him a small, awkward smile.

“Is that all?” he asked and you tried your best to understand what he meant.

You came up blank.

“Your name. Is that all there is to it?” he rephrased, looking at you as if you were a child who was unable to comprehend things.

You bit your lip, not liking the look he gave you.

“Y/n. Finch,” you answered.

He seemed to think it over for a moment before stating, “I think I like that better.”

“Y/N?” you asked.

He shook his head.

“Finch.”

There was a certain look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite pinpoint and you wondered if you would ever be able to read Draco or if you would continue on never really understanding the boy.

“Ok,” you stated simply, head tilted slightly as your eyes watched him curiously.

He then proceeded to turn his back to you, walking over to the railing that overlooked the lake, leaning his body on it slightly.

“See you around then, Finch,” he says, as he remained facing forward.

You took this as your cue to leave, gripping your book closer to your chest, and sneaking one last glance at him.

He looked so serene and unlike his typical self in that moment. You wish you could commit it to memory.

Making your way down the steps of the tower, mind still reeling from your interaction, you thought back to that mental image of Draco leaning on the railing, looking out into the lake.

Funny, you thought, how different people like the infamous Draco Malfoy were when they were away from the noise and the masses and the expectations.

They were just left to be like everybody else.

♡

Tag list: @sadgirlnumber92899

(message me if u’d like to be included <3)

#Draco Malfoy #draco x reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #hufflepuff #slytherin #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter #draco x oc #draco x y/n

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pluviophile-bookworm · 4 years

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AWAE 1x4 rewatch: thoughts and reactions

By popular demand of no more and no less than 14 people (which is quite enough to convince me), I’m back with another AWAE rewatch - reaction. Today, we’re diving into 1x4, which I don’t really remember anymore so it should be interesting to return to it after all this time. Without further ado, let’s get started:

First of all, I will never stop wondering ( especially now that I’ve seen season 3) why the first season was so dull and grey in terms of lighting. I mean, it’s almost black and white. I think I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again anyway - it was probably because the first two seasons were filmed in winter and the third one in summer, but still - there’s editing to fix that, and some editing was probably done, so it must be a creative choice. It makes some sense considering how bad Anne’s past was and how unhappy the last few days have been, at least from her point of view, but I still find it rather depressing.

Anne’s little song is so cute, and I love her singing - it’s simple and clear and it sounds just like the child Anne’s supposed to be, but it’s also kind of a reflection of what’s going through her mind - she’s still holding on to her imaginary self, Cordelia, but is now accepting herself for what she thinks she is - “strange and plain”. Well, she sure is strange, but there’s nothing wrong with that - it’s beautiful, and she’s certainly anything but plain.

Anne means well, but we all know she’s easily distracted, so I wouldn’t make a promise I couldn’t guarantee if I were her.

For once, Rachel is not really annoying me and she actually has good advice. The best part is, this is straight from the book, and I love me some accuracy to source material. Of course, it won’t be long before Anne’s back in school, and (almost) everything will have changed when she goes back.

“How awful it would be to be in service of those who neglect you or treat you unkindly”... oh gosh, Anne’s dark past is creeping into her fantasies. I don’t like this, I don’t like it at all. She does need school to distract her from her trauma.

The one time Rachel had good advice for Marilla, she isn’t going to follow it. Why do things have to be like this? This episode is depressing. I want Anne out of the house and back in school now. I don’t know why, but I do. It’s like I’m putting myself in her shoes, and, sure, what happened back at school was humiliating enough for her not to want to ever go back, but walking around a little room, stuck within its four walls, gets really depressing after some time, no matter how enjoyable it might be at first.

Yes, Matthew is a kindred spirit, and yes, he knows better than to force Anne to go back to school before she’s ready, but I bet my life he’d never want her to miss out on her education when she has so much potential and has the chance to fulfil it. Especially because he didn’t have the chance to finish his own education and he obviously regrets it.

Anne’s trauma as shown in this episode is too much for me. It should come with a trigger warning. But there is no trigger warning for Anne, and there is no escape. Not when she’s stuck at home, wallowing in her humiliation. She has to get out of there, and her imagination is just not enough anymore because it keeps going back to the worst moments of her life, and those are really bad.

I honestly love Matthew so much. He is the first true kindred spirit. He understands. He understands the most important thing - Anne is not like the others. She needs to do things at her own pace. And right now she’s just not ready to face school again. But she does need company, otherwise she’ll drive herself crazy miserable, like she’s already started to in the scene where she calls out to her imaginary friend Katie Morris. And no, I don’t think Matthew is being too soft with her - I do think, however, that Marilla is being too hard on her. But she’ll get better. We know she does.

As heartbreaking as it was to learn (in a later scene which I remembered just now from my first watch) that Anne hasn’t really been going back to school, I have to give it to her - she does a pretty good job of pretending she went and that she’s going there again.

And there it goes - first, dear little Jerry realises Anne is staying late “at school”, and then who should come by but Diana and Ruby (who is still not on the friendliest terms with Anne, but she’ll come around as soon as Anne decides to try interacting with her again). I mean, Anne must really have thought that even Diana wouldn’t care about her at all, or else it would have been really foolish to believe she wouldn’t ask after her when she didn’t come back to school for so long. Having a caring new friend spoiled Anne’s pretty little plan, didn’t it? How ironic. But it just wasn’t healthy for Anne to isolate herself so completely. And this is coming from me, an introvert who would really have liked to homeschool herself and never see another person outside of family members again after a number of humiliating moments at school. I’m old enough now to realise how detrimental total isolation can be. But Anne is not yet and she’ll have to go through a couple more traumatising moments before she finds joy in school again.

Jerry fixing up his hat and jacket before greeting Diana and Ruby and then being all confident/ sassy/ might I say even slightly flirty with his simple “Hello, ladies”... the sight of it gives me life. The shipper in me would say this is the first tiny glimpse of Derry, but the protective older sister instinct in me, who has witnessed and will never forget the events of 3x8, can only see this as a glimpse of what Jerry has always really been like until Diana’s unjust treatment broke him. He was happy. He was confident. He never thought it was above him to speak to Diana before. He never thought of himself as unworthy of respect and love. What Diana did to him, even if she didn’t mean it, broke him and we’ll never get to see him fully recovered because of some stupid people who decided to cut the series short whenever they felt like it. It’s just unfair. If not to us viewers, then at the very least to Jerry. And that should be enough. #renewawae

“Anne’s too sensitive for this world” - Well, that certainly is true, but maybe it’s actually the other way around. Maybe the world is too insensitive to her. Honestly, why?

Marilla has the face of a parent who has just found out their child has been doing something behind their back... honestly, that face is so scary when you’re the kid, I don’t even want to think about it. Now Anne will definitely be going back to school, whether she likes it or not.

Anne talking about Native names reminds me of her conversations with Ka’kwet in season 3. Yes, she might not be a Cordelia or anything fancy, but just plain Anne, but thanks to who she is, the name Anne now sounds so much more colourful and magical to me. It is not the name what makes you who you are, it is who you are that gives your name its meaning. I firmly believe in that, and I wish Anne would, too. I know she’ll realise that in due time, but it just pains me to watch her speak ill of herself because of what she’s been hearing so many awful people say throughout her life.

Melkita’ulamun. A strong and brave heart. This is what your Native name would be, Anne dearest, at least if Ka’kwet was an elder and had a say in it. And I fully agree with her.

The minister’s visit, and his words that are less than respectful to women, just have to be enough to lead her back to school. So, you can say that, in a way, he did his job well even if he’s not the most admirable kind of person.

And if the minister’s misogynist take on the Bible wasn’t enough to convince Anne that her place really is in school, then Jerry is sure to finish the job. “Boys can do anything they want”, is that what you think, Anne? Well, this boy would much rather go to school than work his butt off to provide for his family, but he’s anything but “lucky” that way. I understand Anne is traumatised by her past, but the last few days that she’s spent outside of school she’s been thinking of nobody but herself, as much as it pains me to say it. She has a lot to learn, and not just from books. Has she never thought about why she could never get a proper education and had to work instead? Jerry’s situation is no better. Well, arguably, he’s a lot better off mentally and psychologically, but Anne is only a couple years behind her peers. Jerry never even had the chance to learn the alphabet. He’s forced to be illiterate in both languages he speaks, and that is so tragic, honestly. But it is about to change, as soon as Anne realises how lucky she is and starts extending her fortune to him as her found little brother.

“I never thought that a wife is what I would be” But you will be, Anne, and not only a wife, but also one that is her husband’s intellectual equal and also “the fond object of [his] affection and desire”. But you can never be that unless you go right back to school and get a proper education, not an education in propriety. Because you can. Jerry was spot on in saying that.

Oh, great. Now Marilla has an identity crisis - an identity crisis at her age! I didn’t even know that was possible. But the minister’s words seem to have made a stronger impression on her than they have on Anne. I hope at least the conversation with Jerry, which is by far my favourite moment from this rather depressing episode, sweeps her in the right direction.

My, is that the fire at Ruby’s house? Now that will definitely shake things up. I had forgotten this episode is the mid-season mark, and the fire happens, of course, around the middle of it. It’s like a new beginning. A phoenix that will rise from the ashes of the Gillis house, changing everyone’s perception of Anne for the better, giving her her second best friend, changing Miss Gillis into the Ruby I know and love with all my heart, getting Anne to go back to school after Marilla, the minister, and Jerry didn’t quite succeed. This is a disaster, but one that was, in the grand scheme of things, for the better.

Gosh, Anne, you’re going to give poor Diana a stroke. But you look like you know what you’re doing, and that’s important.

For about a minute, the most intense minute in the lives of everybody present, everybody is worried about Anne to the point of insanity, but then she emerges from the burning house and tells everybody she’s ok - and as soon as she explains why she ran inside an empty burning house, Jerry makes sure everyone knows what Anne did and that she is a hero.

Diana, for one, thinks Anne is marvellous and brave - and I agree with her. Ruby will learn soon enough. She might not have the best attitude right now, but she will learn. She will get better.

Look at Ruby, crying like a baby about a dress, when Anne only has two of her own and is ready to lend one to a girl who doesn’t even want anything to do with her. Within a single episode, Anne has gone from the selfish one who needs to be taught a lesson in how lucky she is to have what she has, to the one who will teach the selfish one that same lesson. And I know Ruby will learn it soon, too.

“I shall never be dissuaded from my low opinion of him”. Well, a lot of opinions changed after that night. This is one of them, only it will take a little longer than most other things.

Very funny, Billy! Ruby has fallen on her face and all he can do is laugh at her dismay, even though she’s bringing him biscuits. And then we get several layers in this scene. We have Ruby, the damsel in distress, the traditional girly girl; Billy, the misogynistic, “boys are superior, girls belong in the kitchen” type of guy, perpetuating toxic masculinity; Anne, the feminist who could get the job done as well as any boy and better than some; and Gilbert, the gentleman, the embodiment of healthy masculinity. I can see why Ruby is in love with him. Who wouldn’t be? Oh, right, Anne. She’s going out of her way not to meet his eye while he’s doing his best to discreetly look at her without offending Ruby. I see the Shirbert tension is strong from the first episodes on.

“If you were a boy, it would have ended up in fisticuffs.” Oh, it will, soon enough. Billy can’t get away with his behaviour forever. There are, and always will be, enough boys who agree with Anne (not that she needs boys to fight her battles for her), and one day, one of them will snap. I can’t wait to get to that moment. I mean, I am very much an advocate for non-violence, but Billy Andrews deserves some righteous violence directed at him every once in a while.

Oh, this is it! The founding of the Story Club! The beginning of something so beautiful, it’s almost like magic. What am I saying, “almost like”? It is magic. Too bad it, too, will meet its end, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

Oh, I see the minister’s words - possibly combined with Billy’s “stay in the kitchen” remarks - have finally reached Anne in the right way. She’s going back to school and the other kids are more than happy to see her. Well, most of them, anyway. I think she was right, though, and if she had gone back the day she was supposed to, she wouldn’t have been received quite so warmly. But what does it matter now? Things are looking up.

To sum up what we saw in this episode: a miserable Anne staying home from school; Anne’s PTSD acting up when she has no education to take her mind off of her horrible past; Matthew is a true kindred spirit #InMatthewWeTrust; Anne homeschools herself away from home, the way education was done in ancient times - surrounded by nature; Jerry’s first on-screen interaction with Diana (and Ruby); some thoughts on Native North American names; a misogynist minister; the tragedy of Jerry having no chance of a proper education; a fire in the Gillis house; a literal fire-forged friendship; the alignment chart of misogynist vs. feminist; the founding of the Story Club; Anne goes back to school to a warm welcome.

#anne with an e #awae #awae season 1 #jnk watches awae #anne shirley cuthbert #marilla cuthbert #matthew cuthbert #in matthew we trust #jerry baynard #rachel lynde #diana barry #ruby gillis #gilbert blythe #billy andrews #moody spurgeon

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seriouslyhooked · 5 years

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The Bones

Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: This is a future CS oneshot based off of Maren Morris’ song ‘The Bones,’ where Emma is feeling worn down and worn out with all of her responsibilities as both the sheriff and as a Mom. The Black Fairy’s curse has been lifted for a long time, but between the kids and the town there’s a ton to do. This drabble is a little snapshot into Emma and Killian’s continuing love, and because I have taken a step back from my mixtape so long, I’ve made it extra cutesy. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!

Happily ever after...

It was the most incredible dream that anyone could want or strive for. To some more cynical people it may be an overly cliché phrase, one tied up in cheesy romance movies or boring formulaic stories, but the end result of a happily ever after wasn’t the same for everybody. Each one was unique and entirely its own, but at the end of the day, reaching that level of contentment was the universal goal. Who didn’t want to be happy? Who didn’t want to have a life that was worth living and that was filled with joy? No one, that’s who.

But even if Emma had achieved that fairytale state, and even though she’d defeated every villain that stood in her way and had built a truly wonderful life for herself and her family, the reality was that happily ever after wasn’t just this easy, constant thing. It was still something that she worked hard for each and every day. Throughout the years life never really seemed to slow down, and though the Black Fairy’s curse had been overcome what felt like forever ago, Emma always had new tasks to conquer and mountains to climb. With three young kids at home, an adventurous eldest son, two still overly involved parents, and an over-the-top town of nosey neighbors, Emma’s life was constantly moving a hundred miles an hour. Rest and reprieve were few and far between, and some days it felt like she might just cave under the pressure, but she never did and the reason for that was simple. Despite the fact that Emma had so much on her plate, she also had the best partner in all of this, Killian, and there was never a day that went by when Emma didn’t feel just how lucky she was and where she didn’t fall just a little bit more in love with her husband.

Killian’s presence was a constant safe harbor in Emma’s world, and where she was prone to worry and unease, he always seemed to weather every storm without flinching. His faith had never been shaken in all their years together, and though at first he was unsure when new challenges came their way, Killian was always ready to learn and lend a helping hand. In town he was her right hand man, aiding her whenever she needed it and becoming a central anchor for all of Storybrooke, and in their home he was her other half. The kids adored him, but it wasn’t because he was more lax or unassuming as a parent. No, Killian always made sure to compliment Emma. They were a team together, both good cops and bad cops, and no matter what the situation, they were always guided by love. Emma knew her younger children, Hope, Leia, and Liam, could sense that, and she knew Henry, though he may be farther from home, had grown to love Killian too and to see him as a friend and more fatherly figure. For that, and for everything else, Emma was truly grateful. Still some days – days like today – when things were already stressful at the precinct, and when she was dreading the impending scramble to get the kids to everything this afternoon, Emma still felt like it might be nice to have a bit more peace in this perfect little life they led.

“I really wish I had more of this report done,” Emma mused aloud, filling the space between her and her father with a tone of frustration. “I’ve been working on it for days. I feel like it’ll never be finished.”

“Emma, I know you want to get past it, but it’s not due for another month. And even then I think the town will be fine if it’s delayed. It’s time consuming yes, but for an annual report it’s pretty standard. We broke up some dwarf fights, found some wayward animals, and pulled a few of our more reckless neighbors over for speeding. It was hardly a year of crime and punishment.”

Emma chuckled at her Dad’s assessment of their jobs in Storybrooke, and she knew he wasn’t wrong. The things they were tackling these days were almost always small fry, but while there might not be any career criminals lurking around town, this was still a place where everyone seemed capable of getting into at least a little bit of mischief. There was always enough to keep her and her father busy, and when it came time to list out everything and reflect on a full year’s worth of work Emma couldn’t help but feel daunted by the task.

“Do you ever wish you could press the pause button?” Emma asked, sitting back in her chair and avoiding the paperwork that was numbing her brain and draining all of her precious energy.

“Never,” her Dad said, surprising Emma, and then she thought about it and she realized why her Dad might be averse to such thinking. He and the rest of this town had been stuck on pause for more than twenty years once upon a time, so no, he probably wasn’t very eager to subject himself to any more lost time ever again.

“I don’t mean long term. I understand the value of taking in every moment – truly I do. But still, sometimes I think of what a day away would mean. No work, no responsibilities. Just… peace and quiet.”

“And this peace and quiet, is it the solitary kind, or do you get to bring guests?”

Emma laughed, knowing that her Dad wasn’t a big fan of being alone. He loved being surrounded by people, and she was hard pressed to think of a time when either of her parents ever had time apart aside from during the workday. But now that he said it, Emma realized her own fantasy of relaxation wouldn’t involve being totally alone. No, if anything what she really craved was time alone with her husband, and though she’d miss the kids, she secretly wished for a chance to have that when her and Killian’s stolen moments had become all too rare.

“On second thought, don’t tell me. You’ve got that look that tells me you’re thinking of a certain ex-pirate and I don’t need to know.”

Emma laughed again at her Dad’s antics, but just as she was about to respond her radio sounded.

“Sherriff station this is dispatch. We’ve got a call of a disabled vehicle at the town line. Requesting response – over.”

“You got this?” Emma asked, her eyes casting down towards her paper work again, a sigh slipping free as she thought of how much she didn’t want to do this.

“Actually would you mind? I…” her Dad trailed off as he looked at his phone. After a few seconds of trying and failing to come up with an excuse he looked back up to Emma and immediately she could tell he was trying to hide something. That was interesting, and also very unlike him. She felt her brow lift slightly in question, but stayed quiet so as to force him to finish his thought. “I just think it’d be better if you went.”

“Okay,” Emma replied, slowing down the word to show that she was on to him. “I guess I’ve got it.”

Immediately her Dad looked relieved, and Emma’s curiosity only grew. She replied to dispatch saying she was on her way, and with a final goodbye to her Dad, she set off, knowing that when she got back she was absolutely going to investigate what the hell was going on with him. She moved automatically to where the emergency services operator had said the broken down car was, but when she got there she was shocked at who was waiting for her.

“Killian? Mom? Is everything all right? What’s wrong? Are you guys hurt?”

Emma asked the series of questions as she hopped out of the squad car she’d been driving, and for a moment she was truly concerned. Why would dispatch have been alerted if this wasn’t an emergency? Emma looked at two of the people who meant the most to her in the world, and she was seriously perplexed. They seemed, at first glance, to be totally fine, thank God, but after a moment she was even more confused by the look of pure happiness on her Mom’s face and the slight bashfulness coming from her husband.

“Oh Emma, you’re here. We’re fine, honey. Totally okay.”

“The kids?” Emma asked, looking to Killian who assured her as much with the sincere depth of his blue gaze as with his words.

“Safe and sound. Hope and Leia are at school and Liam is at day care. Last I saw he was teetering towards the clay dough.”

“Play dough,” Emma and her mother said at the same time and Emma couldn’t help but smile, both at the fact that her son was getting to play with his favorite toy of the moment and that her husband was completely incapable of remembering it’s name.

“Right. Either way, the little ones are all set.”

“And you guys are evidently okay,” Emma said, sneaking a glance at the mini-van (yes, mini-van) that Killian had adamantly demanded that they buy once he really figured out how to drive a car. “Same with the car. Which begs the question: why the call?”

“Because-,” Killian was evidently planning to say something, but her Mom beat him to the punch as she threw out the words in a hyper-fast jumble.

“Because your husband has planned a romantic weekend just for you two! Isn’t that the sweetest?”

Emma blinked, trying to understand what her mother had said for a moment. She honestly couldn’t believe it. Could this be true? Could they really be taking a trip just the two of them, and so precisely when she’d been craving exactly that. All it took was one more look at Killian to know her mother was telling the truth, and though she could tell that he was a bit miffed at not getting the chance to tell her himself, Emma could also see that he was glad for her Mother’s easy acceptance and affection for the two of them.

“A trip? But I’m working. I’m on until five, and then on call this weekend,” Emma said, her voice giving away her disappointment at the realization that this beautiful gesture might not come true.

“Nonsense,” her mother said, pulling Emma’s bag from the sheriff’s car and then tossing it into the minivan. “Storybrooke is more than capable of surviving one weekend without the savior. Heck, we haven’t needed one in ages. Your father and I will run point here. We’re on grandkid duty and town duty, so all you two have to think about is… well, whatever you want!”

The cheery tone of Snow’s words hardly matched the sneaky move she made to swipe the cruiser keys from Emma, and Emma cried out a bit at the show of petty theft. But it was hard to stay angry when it finally began to sink in that she was getting exactly what she wanted, and that it was all the work of her perfectly thoughtful husband.

“You’re sure it isn’t too much, Mom?” Emma asked, though her heart would be practically crushed if her Mom changed her mind now.

“Of course not. We’ve had this planned for weeks, and Killian’s taken care of everything,” Snow said as she gave Emma a quick hug before heading to the cruiser. “You two have fun, and don’t even think about coming home early. We got this.”

Emma watched as her Mom drove off then, making a 180 before driving into town. She found herself shaking her head as she watched the taillights of the cruiser drive away, but all thoughts of the car were gone when Killian approached, wrapping his arms around her. She immediately relaxed, leaning into him and savoring his warmth and the faint smell of leather and rum that still hung around him all these years even though he had largely changed his old sea captain ways.

“Tell me, love, are you very angry at my temporary deception?”

“No,” Emma said, truly meaning it. “But why the big show?” Before he could even respond, Emma filled in the likely reason. “Let me guess, my mother.”

“Aye, Swan. Though to be fair I did try to keep you home this morning,” he replied, his words a low rumble that washed across her skin, making her shiver and immediately sparking that all too familiar need and want low in her belly.

“You try to keep me home every morning,” Emma replied, her smile unstoppable when Killian’s eyes lit up with heat.

“And yet you resist me, even though I do everything in my power to persuade you.”

Emma swallowed harshly, her mind ablaze with exactly the kind of dirty and delicious things her husband tried each morning before the kids were awake or their day ever began. Her thoughts raced, covering everything from the feel of his hands on her body to the sinful mastery of his mouth. All these years later and Emma was still just as wrapped up in Killian, and honestly she deserved a damn medal for being anything even close to productive when he was around distracting her.

“What did you have to do to get my parents so firmly on board?” she asked, trying to tamp down the gravel in her voice that came every time she let her lust get the best of her.

“Oh that was easy,” Killian said as he ran his hook lightly across her hip, finding a piece of bared skin where her shirt had unknowingly risen up. The cool metal on her skin sent bursts of sensation coursing through her, and Emma was like a moth to a flame, almost missing the giant statement he made next. “I just promised them another grandchild.”

“You what?!” Emma yelled, and the reaction prompted a genuine laugh from Killian that shook not only through him, but her as well.

“Only teasing, Swan,” Killian said, and though Emma shoved at his chest, it was playful and more an attempt to hide that little bit of want in her that thought another baby might be perfect despite all the craziness that already filled their lives. “It wasn’t difficult to get them to help me out. They could see as well as I that you’ve taken on too much. You deserve a break, Emma, and that’s exactly what we’ll have this weekend.”

His determination that she needed to relax made Emma’s heart melt. It was so sweet and impossibly sexy that he always prioritized her like this. There was never any room for doubt about Killian’s drives or motivations. She and the kids meant everything to him, and it was for that reason that Emma knew they’d always have a love for each other that was strong and pure and right. The bones of their lives together – their foundations of love – were strong and resilient. There was no breaking down what they had built, and no matter what storms came or what new trouble would emerge, they always had each other and the love that they shared. Just the thought of how miraculous that was brought happy tears to Emma’s eyes, but she fought them off as she asked him a critical question.

“How did you know?” Emma whispered, her eyes taking in his knowing look and the growing grin that appeared at her admitting that she needed this time away.

“Because I love you with everything I am,” Killian professed easily. “Because my heart beats in time with yours, and because what you want, I want too. I love our life and our family, but it’s been too long since I had my Swan to myself, and I damn well intend to make the most of it.”

“Oh yeah?” Emma asked, angling up so her lips were a breath away from his. “So what are you waiting for, Captain? Take me.”

His lips crashed down to hers as his arms locked tighter around her, pulling her close. Emma arched into him, her thoughts all dancing away as she was consumed by the kiss. It was real and raw and demanding, so much so that Emma forgot herself and where they were. She was moments away from pushing for more, but as per usual, Killian remained the one with a more level head. He pulled back, his eyes filled with passion, but he restrained himself far more than she could, his thumb running across her lips as his hand held her cheek.

“My days of stealing and pillaging are long gone, my love. You know that as well as I do.”

“I do,” Emma replied. “So it’s a good thing I’m yours, totally and completely.”

That was all she needed to say to get her husband moving. One moment her feet were firmly on the ground, the next he’d swept her up and was buckling her into the car as if she were incapable of doing it herself. Emma giggled at the very notion of her being unfit to fasten a seatbelt, but as her laughter quieted, she couldn’t help but reach out to Killian’s jacket, pulling him closer again for another kiss.

“I love you, Killian. Forever and always,” she whispered when they broke apart again. “Now let’s go get to that peace and quiet, okay?”

With one last kiss, and a promise that while they’d find peace they might not find much quiet, Killian got in the driver’s seat and they set forth towards a weekend filled with exactly what they wanted. And the best part of it all was that when they were back, things remained just as wonderful and magical as they had always been. For that’s the way things were when you found a happily ever after, and Emma for one couldn’t be happier about it.

………………

We're in the homestretch of the hard times We took a hard left, but we're alright Yeah, life sure can try to put love through it, but We built this right, so nothing's ever gonna move it When the bones are good, the rest don't matter Yeah, the paint could peel, the glass could shatter Let it rain 'cause you and I remain the same When there ain't a crack in the foundation Baby, I know any storm we're facing Will blow right over while we stay put The house don't fall when the bones are good Call it dumb luck, but baby, you and I Can't even mess it up, although we both try No, it don't always go the way we planned it But the wolves came and went and we're still standing When the bones are good, the rest don't matter Yeah, the paint could peel, the glass could shatter Let it rain 'cause you and I remain the same When there ain't a crack in the foundation Baby, I know any storm we're facing Will blow right over while we stay put The house don't fall when my bones are good When the bones are good Bones are good, the rest, the rest don't matter (Baby, it don't really matter) Paint could peel, the glass could shatter (Oh, the glass, oh, the glass could shatter) Bones are good, the rest, the rest don't matter (Ooh) Paint could peel, the glass, the glass could shatter (Yeah) When the bones are good, the rest don't matter Yeah, the paint could peel, the glass could shatter Let it rain (Let it rain, let it rain) 'Cause you and I remain the same (Woo) When there ain't a crack in the foundation (Woo) Baby, I know any storm we're facing Will blow right over while we stay put The house don't fall when the bones are good Yeah, ooh

Post-Note: Hi all! So it has been such an incredibly long time since I posted a mixtape and I knew it would take a really special song to get my muse to cooperate again. This is that song, and if you haven’t checked it out you absolutely should. It’s lovely and it reminds me so much of CS. I’ve also been missing the show a lot lately, and I find myself wishing we had more moments like this all the time. But in the absence of cannon, I’ll step in and write fluff. Stay tuned for more mixtape coming later this summer, and thanks so much to all of you for reading! Hope you have a great rest of your week!

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #cs fic #cs fluff #cs cuteness #cs ff #emma swan #killian jones #snow and charming #captain swan mixtape #cs mixtape #future cs #cs with kids #the bones

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ily-like-a-banana · 5 years

Text

soda ft. vernon

♡ : surely, there must be a reason why there is a rule against dating a fellow bandmate?

A/N: it has been months since i last written and actually completed something so i’m just really happy about that. i didn’t want to proofread this in fear that i might end up losing the spark of just enjoying the writing process so be warned about that! also, this little scenario played in my head while listening to ‘the middle’ by zedd and maren morris :-)

despite knowing fully well that no amount of popcorn stuffed into your throat will calm the raging beating in your chest, you've already managed to go through ¼ of the snack bowl and the movie hasn't even started yet.

you were squished between your band members on your iconic blue couch- the boys have just claimed it to be iconic since it has made itself a home in your basement for so long and it's everyone's favorite spot to do everything; songwriting, napping, eating, watch a movie. to your left are the guitarists: mingyu the bassist, wonwoo on the lead and junhui on the rhythms. fans call them the visual trinity- or something like that. people have not decided whether they're to be swooned for or to be cautious of because they best believe they'll just get their hearts broken.

and then there's the rest of the members to your right: jeonghan provides backing vocals and plays the strings (he's also known to have the most billboard-worthy pictures taken during concerts), jihoon plays the keyboard and composes a lot (a musical prodigy, he is) and then… and then there's vernon, the drummer of the band.

you've had your eyes glued on the screen mindlessly for awhile now, munching on the popcorn too fast much to mingyu's disheartenment. it's just that vernon's name no longer sits on your thoughts fleetingly like it used to. now the six letter name elicits a reaction from you whenever it makes an appearance in your thoughts and at that moment, you found yourself squirming a little.

vernon is known to be a quiet one, snuck comfortably in his own world yet, his presence alone is loud; his electric blue hair bound to grab anyone's attention against his milky skin paired with those strong eyes. (to explain the semblance in his eyes through words would never give it justice, so you don't even attempt to do so.)

what you can describe vividly, however, is how you might have found yourself pulled closely against his chest the other night, his hands breezing gently down to the small of your back, leaving electrifying constellations in its trails and his lips- oh, his lips- they moved against yours with an urgency that seem to have unclasped the imaginary buckles on your knees (if it weren't for his steady hold around the curve of your waist and his refrigerator against your back, you might have just slumped to the floor like a sack).

it's been two days since the little incident, neither one of you have attempted talking about it, or talk at all for that matter. it will only take a short amount of time before the others notice something and although you have already given yourself a pep talk at least 20 times before they came over, you just couldn't bring yourself to act normally around him, let alone start a conversation.

“psst,” mingyu lifts his head from your shoulder and gently pokes your cheek. you blink out of your daze, barely noticing the the grease on mingyu's finger that glistened on your skin when you turned your head to look at him, “hmm?”

“can you get me some cola? i really don't want to miss a second of this movie,” mingyu’s doing that thing again; sporting a wide-eyed puppy look that seem to work well to his advantage albeit his manly features, “please?”

“mmm,” you nod. honestly, he didn't even have to go to those lengths for you to get him the cola. you've been feeling uneasy ever since they got here and you could totally use an excuse to distance yourself for a much needed breather.

you shuffle to the kitchen, wiping your clammy hands on your jeans. this is bad. this is really, really bad, you thought. there's definitely a reason why there's an unspoken rule about not dating a fellow band member. it's just too risky. this could possibly not escalate to dating, though. nothing's certain yet. for all you know, it might mean nothing to vernon and you can just forget it ever happened and move on. but why hasn't he tried talking to you ever since?

you quickly grabbed yourself a glass of water, chugged it down and tried to focus on getting your shit together before grabbing a can of coke from the fridge. sighing, you turned on your heels to return to the members but instantly jumped in surprise when you're met with the subject of your thoughts standing behind you.

“holy shit, you scared me,” you gasped, putting a hand over your chest. your eyes refuse to meet his so you kept your gaze glued to his chest instead. you noticed he's wearing the shirt you had gotten him for his birthday last year. it looks great on him. hell, he could be wearing a garbage bag and anyone would still agree that he looks attractive.

you tense once you realized he’s walking towards you, eyes boring into yours and you're convinced that he's seeing way past your physical form and into your soul.

“wh-what are you do-” you swing your head to the side as you instinctively shut your eyes at his close proximity. his cologne wafted to your senses, heightening it like you had just taken a shot of espresso. stupidly, part of you was waiting for something to happen, something like his hands on your waist yet again or his lips on yours.

instead, you felt something cool on your back, the buzz from the refrigerator momentarily louder before you hear it shut again.

slowly, you tear your eyes open to be met with a boyish smile on his lips as he looks at you with a mixture of amusement and something you can't exactly pinpoint.

“jihoon wanted one too,” his voice was low and soft, the kind you wish you could keep engraved in your memories for a very long time, “he called out for you but you seem to be… in a daze.”

all you could do was blink pathetically, your throat suddenly dry despite your water fix seconds ago.

“let me get that for you,” he takes the can from your grasp, his fingers brushing on yours and it sounds so silly but the contact made butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach.

good lord, can we please have a part two of that encounter-

your little prayer fell to a halt when you felt a feathery kiss on your forehead.

“come on, we'll miss the movie,” he steps back with a glint in his eyes that was hard to deny. he cocked his head towards the kitchen door to signal you to follow him out.

at that moment, your heart was beating at an insane rate against your ribcage, you're surprised you haven't gone to a cardiac arrest.

that look. he's never given me that kind of look. you shake your head as if to clear your thoughts.

but of course, it doesn't.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfics #seventeen imagines #svt scenarios #hansol vernon chwe #vernon scenarios #lol idk what to tag :-(#i wrote this right after doing the laundry can u believ-#190120

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mybullshitsensesaretingling · 6 years

Text

Nuh'mau-wak

Request: Hello, cool blog! I have a request if that's alright: Captain Kirk falling for Spock's half sister, who's human (reader is female) thank you! - @demigodgirl91

A/N: Naming a story in Vulcan. Oh yeah, I’m so deep in this I’m never gonna see the light of day again. It means “too much time” or “it has been too long since I last saw you”

Spock and Kirk stood waiting in front of the airlock door. Your ship had just docked with the Enterprise in response to a distress call. When the door swished open, you stepped aboard, your first officer in tow.

“It’s good to see you again, Captain,” you greeted Kirk, shaking his hand.

“We have to meet under better circumstances one of these days.”

You nodded your agreements before turning to Spock. “S’chn.”

“(Y/N).”

“Your bangs are a disaster.”

“As are your manners.”

You kept your hard expression for a moment before it broke into a smile.

“I am glad to see you well.”

“The feeling is mutual.” You held your hand out toward your first officer. “Commander Morris is the head of my engineering department. If you would allow him, he would like to meet with the Lieutenant Commander and get started on the repairs right away.”

“Of course. I’ll have Ensign Chekov take him down.” Kirk gave out the order then started directing you to a conference room.

“Ki'kwi'fun-tor,” you told Spock as the two of you walked behind the captain.

“Nuh'mau-wak,” he responded.

“Ah,” you agreed. “Hi ka’i. And I expect a full tour of the new ship,” you spoke up when you switched to English so that Kirk knew you were speaking to him.

It used to bother him when you and your brother spoke to each other in Vulcan. He didn’t like not knowing what you were saying, especially when things got heated, or as heated as a conversation between two people raised on Vulcan could get. But he had gotten used to it a while ago. In fact, he almost found it comforting.

“It’s cute that you thought there was a chance that I wasn’t going to give you a tour,” he said, stopping at a door and waiting off to the side to let you enter first.

You took a seat at the table and listened as the two began to regale you with the choices and mistakes that had lead to their current predicament. You looked over the logs, carefully sorting through all the information they were giving you and deciding what was and wasn’t worth putting in your report.

The formal meeting between high ranking colleagues morphed rather quickly into a coffee shared between old friends.

Jim, as always, found himself constantly trying to make you smile. You weren’t under the same pressure growing up to act Vulcan, so it was a much easier task than getting Spock to smile. But getting you to smile, sincerely smile, still came with its own challenges.

“You disappoint me, Jim,” you said, after he had told you a particularly bad story of his captaining “skills”.

“You’d be more disappointed if I didn’t have any stories.”

A smile started to tug at your lips, but you covered it by lifting your mug to your mouth. “I guess we will never find out.”

“I resent that.”

“I don’t believe you do, sir,” Spock said.

“Captain?” a man’s voice called from the door.

“Yes?” you and Kirk responded in unison, both your heads turning towards the door.

“Umm… Captain Grayson,” you first officer clarified.

“Yes?” you repeated, unaccompanied by Kirk.

“We’re needed back on the O’Neil.”

“Of course.” You got to your feet, nodding at the two men in front of you in turn. “Kirk. Spock. I’ll be back after I get a chance to speak with my team. Thank you for the coffee.”

Kirk smiled and watched you leave, the whole while being watched by Spock.

“Don’t,” Kirk said, turning to look at his friend.

“Don’t what?” Spock asked, his gaze unwavering and having the distinct look of someone who knew something others really wished he didn’t.

“You know what.” Kirk gathered up the PADDs from the meeting and Spock’s eyes never left him. “Jesus. Blink or something.”

He did as his Captain asked, somehow managing to do it smugly.

“How’s Sarak?” Kirk asked as the two of you walked down the hall.

“I’m sure he is well.” You kept your hands clasped behind your back as you walked, barely even looking at him out of the corner of your eye.

“You haven’t been talking, have you?”

“Not lately, no.” Kirk was always surprised at your ability to keep emotion out of your voice no matter what. He had seen you let your walls down when it was just the two of you, even when Spock was with you, but whenever you were in public they went right back up.

“He doesn’t seem to be very good at talking to his children.”

“He’s fine with talking to his children. It is only Spock and I that he has a problem with.”

“Uhuh. And how many siblings do you guys have?” He had been trying to get a straight answer to this question for years.

“That depends on what you count as a sibling,” you said as if that should satisfy him.

Kirk snorted and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“If dancing around questions was a sport your family would take gold.”

“It’s a Vulcan trait.”

“Your ears are a little too rounded to use that excuse, sweetheart.” He saw the laugh at his comment start to form, but watched you push it away before it could make its way out of your mouth. “If it helps, Spock feels the opposite. I’m surprised he hasn’t jumped ship yet.”

The two of you stepped into his office.

“He is very loyal to you, Captain.” Once the door closed behind you, you added, “But it does help, thank you.”

“You know, I’ve been reading your reports,” he started, going to his desk.

“You’ve been checking up on me?” you ask, instantly becoming more casual, more human.

“No, of cour-” he stopped looking back at you. “Yes. At least once a month. You’ve been busy.”

“So have you.” You walked around to the other side of the table. “But you need to learn how to write a proper report. You sound like a nine year old writing in his diary about his first crush.”

He let out a loud laugh. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“It’s been too long,” he smiled.

“Since I saved your butt?” you teased.

“Yes. You should do it more often.”

The corners of your mouth lifted and his smile turned into a full grin.

“I’m not letting you go out there!” Kirk shouted as he raced after you through the shaking corridors of the Enterprize.

“If somebody doesn’t, we won’t survive this.” You only raised your voice so that he could hear you over the commotion.

“That somebody isn’t you.” He took hold of your hand, causing you to stop and turn around. You sent his hand a sharp look before moving your eyes up to meet his.

“I am the most senior officer aboard this ship,” you told him. “You are in no position to give me orders, Captain.”

“It wasn’t a order, Captain.” His eye held something you recognized but couldn’t quite place. It had been there when he had seen you at the memorial service for Vulcan and every time Amanda was brought up in conversation. You saw it through your screen when you had been stuck in sickbay after a misstep on a mission had left you battered and bruised. You wished that you were raised around humans. You wished you knew what his looks meant.

You stared at him for a moment longer, before a particularly bad jolt through the ship reminded you of the urgency of your mission.

In one swift move, you slipped your hand from his and turned to carry on your way. You knew he was hot on your heels, but he didn’t say anything else until you were pulling an EVA suit from the rack and stepping into it.

“There’s nothing I can do to stop you, is there?”

“No.”

Your answer changed his whole personality. His hands wrapped around your collar, helping to tug it up over your shoulders. Then he moved to close it.

“What are you doing?” you asked, letting him dress you.

“You’re not doing this alone.” He clipped the tether to the back of your suit. “I’m going to be there every step of the way. If your radio goes silent for even a second, I’m going out after you.” He pulled your helmet down over your head, locked it in place, and kept his hands on either side. “Stay focused. Stay alert. Come back to me.”

You nodded and he let go of you, allowing you to step back and away from him. He watched you go through the airlock and exit the ship, before he started off back down the hall at a full sprint. The moment he was on the bridge, he switched on a com.

“How we coming?”

“It’s breathtaking,” you told him. You had never been out there with just an EVA suit between you and the stars. Even with all the debris littering the area and threatening the lives of both crews, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

“Focus, Grayson,” Kirk reminded you.

“I’m at the leak. I’m-” You had to duck as piece of an old ship came uncomfortably close to the ship. “Patching it now.”

“What was that?”

“I believe it was a piece of hull plating,” you said casually as you got down on your knees and pulled a tool from your belt.

“Be careful.” He turned to Chekov. “How much time do we have?”

“Fifteen minutes before the radiation becomes lethal, sir.”

“Grayson, did you hear that? Fifteen minutes.”

“I have a countdown on my helmet, Kirk.” Your breathing was thick and heavy as you struggled to work.

“Don’t give me that attitude,” Kirk said.

“Is there an attitude you would prefer?” You could hear him trying not to laugh and smiled to yourself.

“Just focus on your work.”

You tried, but it seemed Kirk was very serious about not going radio silent for even a minute. Everytime you would get into a groove his voice would crackle through your helmet asking you how it was going.

“I need you back on the ship.”

“One moment.”

“No, now. I’m not going to watch you die. Get your ass back in the ship,” Kirk said sternly.

“I’m finished,” you told him, standing up. “Headed back to the airlock.”

Kirk, unsurprisingly, was waiting for you inside. He ripped your helmet unceremoniously from your head and tossed it to the floor. His hands flew to the side of your face, twisting it this way and that, inspecting every feature closely.

“Hey! Tha’s delicate equipment!” Scotty yelled, rushing to pick the helmet back up.

“Sorry,” Kirk said, dropping his hands from you. “Get changed. I’m taking you to medical.”

“Kirk, I’m fine.” Turning to Scotty, you started tugging your suit off. “Did that fix the problem?”

“Aye.” He waited until you had completely stripped of your EVA suit and were left only in your uniform to hand you a PADD.

You looked over it and gave it back. “Good. Is Commander Morris on board?”

“No, he went back to O’Neil.”

“Thank you.” You walked past Kirk and he immediately fell into step beside you.

“You’re going to medical before you go see Morris.”

“I made it back in plenty of time. There’s no need for a doctor,” you said.

“Humor me.”

“Why are you acting this way?” you asked, clasping your hands together.

“Maybe because you could have died.”

You stopped and turned to look at him. After a second, you nodded like you were examining a painting. Then walked away with a small “hm.”

“What? What was that?” he asked in a panic, chasing after you.

“What was what?”

“That face! That ‘Hm’!”

“Nothing. I just realized that you have feelings for me.”

“What? I don’t- What would make you- I don’t know-,” Kirk stumbled.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you told him calmly. “I feel the same way.”

“You do?” You didn’t have to turn around to know that he was smirking.

“Yes. Now if you excuse me, I do have work to.”

#spock #spock imagines #spock imagine #james kirk #Jim Kirk #jim kirk x reader #james kirk x reader #kirk #jim kirk imagines #jim kirk imagine #james kirk imagines #james kirk imagine #star trek #star trek imagines #star trek imagine

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poli9048 · 4 years

Text

Part 3

"Who are you gonna run to now?"

Lea was carrying a container with warm food in it that her father had asked her to take to a neighbor. The delicious smell of lasagna made her dizzy, but the unpleasant feeling that was tormenting her from the inside did not allow her to concentrate on this pleasant smell at all.

The incident at the party had thrown Leia out of her comfort zone. She was bitterly aware that it would be awkward for her to look at her friend's eyes now, since they had almost kissed twice in the past week, and the thought of it made her cheeks flush with shame. Lea and Chris never allowed themselves to do this, valued their friendship and stayed at a distance. Currently, both have taken a step, not fully realizing in what kind of way.

With a heavy sigh, Brossard walked to the Morrises 'front porch and pulled the handle of the neighbors' front door as if it were the entrance to her own home. The door wasn't locked, so Lea went inside. Chris, in a rumpled t-shirt and disheveled hair, was sitting at the table in the living room, his dark green eyes fixed on a shelf, but it was clear that his thoughts were far beyond this room.

Without bothering to say Hello, Lea set the container right in the middle of the table, pushing the dirty glasses and several packets of candy bars to one side. — From my parents. This is lasagna, be careful, don't choke on it.

Chris shifted his heavy gaze to the woman next to him, mumbled something under his breath, and returned his gaze to the bookcase.

— Where's the thank you? I was actually wasting my time bringing you this masterpiece of cooking — Lea began, ignoring her friend's untidy, tired appearance, the dark circles and bags under his eyes clearly indicating that the young man had not slept for several nights in a row.

— Thank you, — Chris said. —Finished? Get out of here.

— I'm actually trying to help you, and you're acting like a complete asshole,— Lea said. A few days of continuous lectures from her parents and an early Sunday service left their mark on her emotional state.

— I don't need your help, okay?! — Chris exploded, clearly on edge. He stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair, his eyes blazing with rage, and his voice breaking into a scream. — I can't help myself, and how can you help me? Who are you, anyway? A strong and independent hooker. No one sees you more than as a sexual object!

Lea recoiled as if she had been whipped. Morris's words were just as stinging, and the girl's lips were frozen with hysteria.

— And you're a damned weakling who does nothing but whine and feel sorry for yourself. Mama's boy! Where is your mother? Who are you going to run to now?! — these words came out of her mouth. Lea did not even have time to realize how much she had hurt him now. Chris felt like a slap in the face, and his eyes — those mirrors of his soul — were now filled with pain and despair.

— Go to the office and get a job there, — Lea suggested after a moment's silence, trying to hide the excitement and remorse in her voice.

— I already went, and the only thing I was told was that it was fucking mediocre,— Chris said, recovering from a moment of rage, and picking up the container that his friend had brought from the table and removing the foil in which the still — warm lasagna was wrapped, he began to eat it. Lasagna was Mrs. Brossard's signature dish, and she made it for holidays, neighborhood gatherings, and school fairs. Many who tried the dish for the first time so flatteringly praised this painfully simple recipe. And the family only painfully realized that this is the only thing that she knew how to cook. Other French dishes that often appeared on the family table, she ordered at her favorite restaurant.

***

No matter how cold-blooded a bitch Lea was trying to be, she felt that now she simply had to help a friend who seemed to be always there. In addition to the feeling of guilt for the words expressed in the heat of the quarrel, the girl decided to talk to the editor of the magazine.

— Is John in there? — Lea came to work off-shift and glanced at the big blue eyes of the pretty Secretary. Did he offer her sex too?

—Yes, what are you concerned about? — Brossard didn't even hear the rest of the question and stormed into the editor-in-chief's cold office. Only idiots could open a window in the fall, and one of them was sitting in front of her.

When Mr. Blythe saw Leia in the doorway, he gave Her a dirty grin and looked her up and down, licking his lips like a predator.

— I've already missed you.

— Hire Chris — Leia demanded in a harsh, cold tone that brooked no argument, but John's expression didn't change at all. He unbuttoned the top buttons of his sky-blue shirt, revealing pale, protruding collarbones, as if he were hot in this icy office.

— So, I didn't make a mistake, you were in the photo, - John closed his eyes and stretched his lips in a smile. — And Chris is your boyfriend, isn't he? Lea frowned.

— He's my neighbor, and it doesn't matter.

— Oh, trust me, this is a big deal in our little deal, — John said, raising his eyebrows as he beat a strange rhythm on his knee. The belt badge glittered in the sunlight that slid across his body.

— Tell me about it — Lea took a step forward, and he abruptly grabbed her by the arm. All attempts to keep her balance were futile, and reluctantly the girl sat on his knee.

The smell of expensive perfume and cigarettes hit her nose — not the cheap ones she bought at the local corner store-but good, expensive cigarettes with a thick white filter and a pleasant aftertaste. After a moment, the guy put his hand on her back, running his hand along her spine and stopping at the edge of her t-shirt.

— If you want your neighbor Chris to work in my office, you know what you have to do, — John hissed into the back of his neck, his nose stroking the thin skin and his lips exploring each wreath.

— You have a mountain of silicone at the front Desk, cover girl, why do you need me? — Leia's voice trailed off. Close contact and a few confident and, unfortunately, pleasant touches took away all the ability to think clearly.

— Do you agree to my offer or not? — Brossard exhaled noisily. Having sex with an unpleasant guy for the sake of an ungrateful neighbor is a bad idea. But she wasn't doing it because of Chris. An image of Mrs. Morris, a beautiful woman and neighbor, came to mind, giving Leia advice and feeding her whenever She ran away from home. She loved her son very much, and the girl knew what a strong bond they had, so the answer to his question was obvious.

— Yes, — she said underneath her breath.

— What did you just say? — his breath tickled her ear. He could hear her answer perfectly, and she could feel the smile in his voice.

— I agree.

John began to trace a path of kisses from the neck to the shoulder of the girl, biting the skin somewhere in the area of the collarbone. Lea pursed her lips, trying to catch her breath.

— Close the door, — she said.

— Such a brave girl is afraid of being seen?"

John closed the door roughly. His brown eyes burned with desire. He walked over to Leia, who was sitting in his expensive leather chair. With deft fingers, he unbuttoned his shirt, pushed it aside, and, taking the girl by the hips, sat her down on the table.

«A strong and independent hooker.»

Blythe bit into the full lips of Lea, who reluctantly returned his quick kiss, bit her lip, and pushed his tongue into the girl's mouth. Lea frowned in disgust at herself and this guy, but she knew that she could not escape her chosen fate, and she ran her fingers through the thick curly hair of the young man, pulling it back and forcing the guy to recoil.

«No one sees you more than as a sexual object!»

John took off the girl's black t-shirt and, covering her body with kisses, exploring it with his hands, pulled off her skirt and threw it somewhere to the side. Lea felt the appraising gaze of a predator that had found its new victim.

— God, you're gorgeous,— he breathes, and then he grabs her by the hips and heads toward the black leather sofa.

The young man loomed over Brossard, and her gaze fell on Blythe's freckled face, which was strewn across his sharp cheekbones in constellations. Leia's hands slid over John's taut abs as the thick leather belt clattered to the floor. Freeing both himself and Leia from unnecessary items of clothing, the guy abruptly entered the girl, spreading her pliable thighs.

«...hooker!»

John moved in a way that made Leia's vision darken and her head spin. She took deep breaths, but could not get enough oxygen to cope with the lack of breathing.

"...no one sees you more..."

Blythe didn't want to hurt her, but it was getting harder to control himself with each thrust. Moans came from lips that gasped for air. John abruptly changed the angle of the entrance, pinning the girl to the sofa. His hands were everywhere: at the bottom of her stomach, on her chest...

«hooker! ...a sex object!»

Heavy breathing, hoarse moans-all the sounds in the office merged in unison. Blythe bites into the girl's thin neck with a kiss, grabs her stomach, and with one deep penetration they both achieve release. Both breathing so heavy, like they ran ten miles on Blakan.

— Don't tell Chris that I asked him to take it. Just tell me you changed your mind, okay? — Lea asked, avoiding the gaze of the one she'd just given herself to, as she gathered her clothes from the floor.

— All right,— Blythe said, and fastened his seat belt with a slight movement.

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kyandice · 7 years

Text

CANDICE EDIT THIS UGLY SHIT WHEN U HAVE THE FUCKING TIME

this is an ugly unedited one it has been in my drafts for like 2 months already. so whatever i just posting it. ill edit it if i have the time. thins is is i actually edited half way and MY FUCKING COMPUTER FUCKING CRASHED SO I GAVE UP and yeahhh ill just post this ugly unedited one and ill edit it again WITH PROPER ENGLISH WHEN I HAVE THE TIME. idk i just cqnt see stuff in my drafts i just havre to post it and yewah wtf.

this unedu=ited stuff is just me writing key poiunts about my day and not like urghhhhhhh i hate this commmmmm. normally i would describe more but i dont want it in my drafts anymore so ill edit it when im free OKAYYYY.

1/3

Hahahahahah lmao this was the date when i got tgt with K 3 years ago.(omg i still rmb, but tbh its nth special i just rmb useless stuff pretty well) Never wanted to date a guy again even i with crushes back in sec sch. but anyways, today i went to Sentosa w/ B and he seemed to really like the artificial fiels alot but it was like in the afternoon so it was still kinda hot and yeahhhh. Like it would be much nicer at night. There will be like alot of stars and fireworks too and it will be more windy and cooling idk but it will be nicer at night and i want to spend the night w/ B there again. Oh yeah anyways ystd B bought me the batgirl lego keychain and B told me that batgirl had sex with batman and im shoooked.

2/3 and like today we planned to go to his house anddd then go to parkway parade to some lego secret chambers shop. i went out early cuz my junior wanted to pass me her lego characs but she couldnt make it so i was alr at bishan so i just went to tpy and wait for bryan o wake and meet me so i called him at 11am but he woke up and shouted at me so i just like nvmmmm so i went to the library and went window shopping around tpy and i also went popular 1pm i didnt want to call him up but i was like ugh nvm and called him.. and yay he finaally woke up wna read tuesday with morrie, all the fifty shades of grey and in grey's pov n miss peregrine's home for peculiar children but we still went to parkway parade anyays and he asked me to watch letters from iwo jima so i watched it at night and bryan wanted to watch the breakup list on toggle but it kept playing ads and it just wouldnt play the video so b got alittle pissed 3/3 logan, training (our 8th movie)

4/3 finishing crocheting my first thinggg the bear thing shoud i give it to bryan would he want it so today b was vvvv kinda excited this video thing with ck and cez and im like vvv happy for him cuz he can do smthing he rlly likes with cool n funny ffriends. also he said that he didnt want us to go public at first cuz he was afraid that ppl might tease us he said he was afraid i might be ffrustrated but tbh i was hella frustaratred i dont see the point of hiding our rship but im glad werre like opene now and so at night i went to ikea and b messaged me but i was busyt walking and i didnt recieve his msg but i didnt like lock my phone so it was read. but like it was in my pockets and like my mom doesnt allow me to play my phine whenever im walking but yeah anyways b was angry hat i didnt reply him. we sorta quarreled awhile but we were kinda okay after that i guess. wtf sia today midnight i have to distribute stuff to the homeless ppl in bugis and i was wearing a short paanyts and my mom tied this weird looking scarf i swear i look like some carzy hobo youngster wtf.

5&6/3 sneaked out of house, slept over at his house and after that i went to tpy first while he showers, ate and went home early to pack for camp stuff wna stay over at his house again it was fun we tried to watch moanna but was kinda sleepy

7/3 day 1 of camp. slept with b outised tgt

8/3 day 2 of camp (-met javier and sihui -every camps i go i get very angry -shoulder, water balloon) larn cpr and aed the skit thing worst grp ever

9/3 day 3 of camp water activities we won

10/3 tkd training

11/3

-wtf nxt week go msia (wanted to go work) -quarreled with bteh. cuz i cant go out but he wants me to go out -yyour suffering defines you without it yore a void -japan and korea with bryan -my parents -i want more lego charac -money - i cant wait for tmr for ilighhtsss i want to take like alooot pictures tgt with bryannnn styled hair -nicole choo idk why im still so insecure like i know pretty clearly that im decent looking. decent looking enough to make friends, have a job and not get ostracised in society. and well if you arent good looking enough you'll be made fun off/ostracised in society and thats how humans work. and now everywhere you see are pretty girls and how can any girls feel not insecure. Okay, i have a flat and fat nose. i want to have a sharper and thinner nose like michelle. i have pretty small boobs and i want boobs like naomi. my shoulders are too wide from playing softball, i want a smaller width shoulders like grace. my tummy isnt flat i want a flat tummy. and thing is those are pretty famous girls in like sg and im not even talking abt kim kard or emma wats or like jennifer lawr. omg i dont even know where im going with this im just literally typing all my thoughts down. okay and the boys here???? they all follow those people and im pretty sure they compare them over the normal girls in sch. omg what am i even talking abt. i feel silly even typing this out. but okay if your beauty standards doesnt reach like the norm in society you srsly wouldnt have friends. unless youre realllll rich or your sense of humor is rlly rlly great.

12/3 didnt quarrel but we were obv upset with each other it was a fun day tho when to see i lights took alot pictures ate llaollao no money

20/3 best s ever went home after it bteh gg aunts house today

his flight will be tmr 21/22 job interview got the job bryaan in flight abt cosplay how i dont have frinds

25/03 bryan found my private twitter accnt bteh tole me abt a girl he liked when he was in korea idk if anyone realised but ive got a really really really bad habit. its weird really. but its a thing ive been doing since young and i never talked to anyone about it before. so actually, when im nervous, or stressed out, or just couldnt take my mind off smthing, i would like start peeling or plucking my nails. okay many people do this but, i ahve a weirder one andddd omg i think i will regret saying this. So actually, i pluck i my hair when im nervous, stressed out or just thinking abt smthing i cant ignore. so back in primary 4 i was doing this math practice paper and i couldnt do any those 6marks big problem sums and i was fking stressed out. and well my habit of plucking my own hair started really really young. and at P4 my mom saw me crying

26 toc competition firdst fight win second fight lose how i dont wna fight nationals cuz my weight cat all got national player lose my chance to win gold cant even get silver r came today

29/ power rangers

30 wanted to go coney island with rapheal and jill and bryan but it rained so we went to lan and gamed without jill bryan pushed me and i banged into someone in the end see museums some forest thing the ligths vvv pretyy

28/hotel

31/ hotel went to work after that talk about work made bryan that key chain clp diner and dance

1/4 learn bst bts for club crawl played boomberang didnt workkk aot is out!!!!!!

2/4 today i need to go mountbatten cc to practice my poomsae my poomsae lousy i dont think i can pass at first try anyways president of stf is milan quey idk if i spelt his name properly but yeah. before that ate yellow sub with B will nvr eat there again portion is small yet expensive and food isint so nice at all but since i get to eat with b im vvvv gladdd

3/4 today i went early to B's house. after that met up with madeline and shirlyn to watch boss baby and the movie was quite nice i thought i wouldnt like it and then we ate pepper lunch and omg osaka is a vvv small place like shirlyn went evrywhere i visited like a a year ago

4/4 AND I WOKE UP WITH BTEH lose his doibok and he couldnt find it my maid threathened to take a mail for my mom cuz she lazy walk and she wants me to do it but i was late

5/4 there was demo training we played table tennis for awhile and bteh is good at it, ok maybe its just that i suck at it but yea theres was fmo so we slacked at tg until demo tng started so at night he said hes tired but idk that he wanted to sleep soon and he was like stop it and i was like stop wat but he ttly just shut me off and then i got pissed cuz i would nvr do that to him

6/4 i had to meet herman but like after meeting him timetable i realised i forget to bring my wallet somethimes im torn in beteen like just not gg out with bteh cuz i have no money to eat or spend his money again he keeps saying its okay but its really not okay im just not comfortable like someone spending so much on me i owe money so he told me his specs broke ttly

One of the things dreams do for us is prepare us for worse case scenario. The dream that is closest to reality about a loved one leaving us prepares the mind for the pain that can be inflicted upon us. It creates a probability. That means it could happen, it means it’s a fear you have, and being such your mind protects your psyche in a way to allow you to feel the emotions of the event, even though the event never occurred.

13 reasons why felt like th main charac like back in sec sch all i wanted was just to finish my olevels and go to poly so i can be a whole new person. someone who i wanted to be withouht anyone laughing at me

1au away from sol 1au measurement unit like light or smthing sol is latin from sun porbbaly it

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jshope-blog1 · 7 years

Text

The Sacrifice

“And then they did this really awesome dancing! It was so cool!”

“That story was terrible,” Terry said, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke into the tiny shed behind Mark’s parents’ house.

The other boys laughed and Mark briefly thought about telling them to go find another place to smoke. But of course he didn’t. He never told them off.

“Whatever,” he said instead, “I guess you had to be there.” It was something Mark had heard his father say, whenever he told them about something ‘hilarious’ that happened at the bar or at work. But Mark didn’t believe that this was one of those times. His night truly had been one of the most magical experiences of his life, and these idiots just couldn’t appreciate it.

“Yeah well, I didn’t even tell you the best part,” he said in hindsight. “They had a tiger.”

Joe coughed roughly and stared at him. “No shit? Why didn’t you say before?”

Mark hesitated, he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told them from the beginning, but something about the tiger had felt like a secret.

Terry rolled his eyes. “Because he’s lying, duh!”

“I’m not!” Mark argued.

“Oh yeah? Where’s the proof?”

“Pics or it didn’t happen, bro,” Tim chimed in, rolling another joint.

“I-I wasn’t allowed to take any photos. Private party.”

“Yeah…sure,” Joe said, already distracted by the others.

Mark stood, feeling annoyed. “I’m going for a walk,” he said. For a second he thought maybe one of them would protest, or at least question where he was going, but nothing happened.

“Whatever,” he grumbled, crouching low to open the shed door then walking around the side of his house to reach the street.

Mark had been working as a server for Hercules Catering and Events since graduating from high school eight months earlier. They were all offered jobs; him, Terry, Joe and Tim, but Mark was the only one who lasted more than two weeks. What started as cleaning up after lame corporate events became cleaning up at fancy weddings with really nice leftovers, then passing hors d'oeuvres at birthday parties for spoiled rich kids with hot older sisters, and even helping behind the bar at a cocktail party in San Francisco that had been absolutely chock full of celebrities. The boys had wanted to hear all about that one.

But this party, it had been like no other. There were no celebrities, no rich girls in mini dresses leaving their phone numbers on cocktail napkins, not even a cake. But there had been a tiger.

Mark looked up from his aimless walk to find himself at the Main St. junction. He was considering his next step when something moved in his periphery. He looked around just in time to see a large shadow slink behind the used CD store. A large shadow, with a striped tail.

Mark hesitated for only a moment before following the mysterious creature behind the row of storefronts.

When he turned the corner and found the alley empty, Mark began to wonder if he was imagining things. Though nothing jumped out at him, Mark felt a presence in amongst the piles of cardboard boxes and dumpsters that lined the alley as far down as he could see. And so he continued to walk, waiting for something to happen.

The first time he’d seen the tiger Mark almost dropped an entire tray of samosas. It was beautiful and majestic; its slender, muscular body weaving through the large circular tables packed with men, women and children. No one had reacted to a 600-pound tiger brushing past them, nor did the tiger react to the loud music, sumptuous foods or flashing lights. It had simply roamed, as if monitoring the scene.

“That is Lujin,” a woman had said, appearing almost out of the blue at his elbow. She was old and wizened, dressed in a bright red sari.

“Who does it belong to?” Mark had asked, wanting to know what sort of person brought their pet tiger to a party.

The woman had laughed and the sides of her eyes crinkled. “She belongs to Buddha,” she’d said. “Or rather, she belongs to no one, as Buddha does not own, but merely interacts.”

Mark had looked out over the party and spotted the tiger near a large stage lapping at a bowl of milk framed by incense and candles.

“An offering,” the woman had said.

“Why is she here?”

The woman smiled at him. “Do you know what type of party this is?”

Mark shook his head.

“It is a funeral.” She gestured once more to the stage. It contained a long wooden table covered with a white sheet. On top of the sheet was a framed photo of some god that Mark did not know and even more incense and candles.

“Um, sorry if this is stupid, but why would you have a tiger at a funeral?”

“It is tradition. When an enlightened elder reaches the end of their life, they can offer themselves to Lujin. If she accepts the offering, the enlightenment of the elder is passed on to his family.”

The entire time the woman spoke, Mark had watched the tiger. As her words became clear in his mind the tiger had turned and locked eyes with him for the first time that night.

“Wait, so you fed someone, to that tiger?” He hadn’t meant to sound so ignorant, but this was way beyond the experiences of your typical 18 year-old.

“We did nothing. Chogyal gave his vessel to Lujin so that his spirit could be free and his knowledge of this world could be shared. We celebrate Chogyal and nourish Lujin both with the flesh of our family and also with the generosity towards our loved ones.”

This explanation had not satisfied the long list of questions cropping up in Mark’s head, but before he could ask her anything else the woman had excused herself.

“I must tend to my family, and you to your work,” she’d said, that knowing smile still playing on her face as she’d gestured to the tray he’d been resting on the back of a vacant chair.

As he’d made his rounds, Mark could not focus on his job, but this hadn’t been a problem, because the party had moved from sitting and eating to playing games and performing elaborate dances. And always, the tiger was present, observing from the outskirts, not unlike Mark himself.

After almost an hour of walking Mark found himself at a dead end, stacks of dumpsters lined up against the back of an apartment complex blocking his way forward.

Mark looked back the way he’d come, considering his options.

The light thud of plastic followed by the sound reverberating metal signaled to Mark that he was not alone. Slowly, he turned and it was just like the first time. His throat became tight and his heart beat wildly in his chest as he took in the regal, yet terrifying, tiger sitting atop the dumpster.

“Lujin?” he asked stupidly, as if there’d be some other tiger out and about in downtown Hercules.

The tiger bowed its head.

Mark thought back to the party again, and the old woman.

“How does Lujin know when she’s been made an offering?” he’d asked.

The woman had only shrugged. “I do not question the knowledge of the gods. She goes where she is needed and does what is needed of her. All we can do is be grateful.”

“Um, what are you doing here?” he asked the tiger. It felt silly, but if he was to believe the old woman, this wasn’t some ordinary tiger. Lujin was a god, and gods could do anything.

The tiger stretched across the top of the dumpster and dug her long, sharp nails into the plastic lid before addressing him.

“You have many questions, Mark Morris.”

Mark only nodded, thinking this was a serious understatement. He searched his head to try and figure out the most pressing question of them all.

“Why do you exist?” he asked. It was a loaded question, and he almost expected the tiger not to answer, but Lujin merely blinked her large yellow eyes and spoke.

“A long time ago I was only a tiger, living in the forests of India with my cubs. There had been a terrible drought and we were starving. I had led us to a cave to await death when we were stumbled upon by a group of boys. Most of them had run off, but one stayed behind.

He sacrificed himself, so that my cubs and I could live. Not only did he fill my belly, he filled my soul and my mind. It was too much, for me, for my cubs. I set out to share what this boy had given to me and throughout my journeys I’ve met many who wish to share their wisdom with others through their sacrifice. Their generosity keeps me alive.”

Mark was just thinking that he could never do that, give himself to some wild animal, when Lujin spoke again.

“You do the same,” she said, as if reading his mind, “You give of yourself every day. Those boys, they take your energy, your self esteem, but what do they give you in return? Do you achieve enlightenment?”

Mark barked a laugh but the tiger merely blinked at him, waiting for an answer. “No, those guys wouldn’t know enlightenment if it bit them.”

The tiger seemed to smile.

“Heh, that wasn’t a suggestion.”

Mark sighed and sat on a dirty concrete stoop. “I just want things to be like they were in high school. Simple. We had fun, you know? Now it feels like I’m moving forward and they are just…stuck.”

The tiger’s tail twitched and she jumped from the dumpster, making no noise whatsoever. She sat in front of Mark, eye to eye, and briefly Mark wondered if he should be afraid.

“Perhaps you are more enlightened than you seem,” Lujin said. “Do not fear the end, Mark Morris, it only makes room for innumerable beginnings.”

Mark put his hand out without thinking, then paused. Was it bad manners to pet a god? The tiger only blinked. Mark made contact with the tiger’s massive head and the truth of what Lujin said shook him to the core.

“So…if I am enlightened,” he began, his voice trembling slightly, “and I was to die, um, tonight, would my enlightenment be passed on at my funeral, to them?”

Lujin stretched and moved away from Mark’s hand. “They are not worthy of your enlightenment. In this moment it is they who are dead, not you.”

“Wait, what?” he exclaimed in panic, “My friends are dead?”

“To you,” the tiger said calmly, standing again and walking back down the alley the way they’d come. “You have been a compassionate friend, and generous to a fault, but only a fool fills a bottomless well.”

Mark watched her walk away as long as he could. Finally, when his eyes were on the verge of watering he blinked, and just like that the tiger was gone.

Mark sat in the empty alley for another few minutes, thinking on Lujin’s last words, then he stood and followed the alley back to the main road, turning left and continuing on to his house. As he walked he half-expected things to seem different, clearer, but everything looked the way it always did.

Out of habit, Mark passed his front door and walked to the backyard. Only when he saw the dingy green shed, with its flaky paint and missing shingles, did he pause. He could still hear them in there, laughing, talking about the girls they’d hooked up with and whether or not the Giants were going to make the Series again this year.

Without a second thought Mark turned on his heel and walked back to street. The lights were still on in the living room so Mark climbed the stairs and opened the front door.

“Hello?” his mother called from the kitchen.

“Hey, it’s just me.”

By Jaclyn Hope

30 October 2016

#short story #writing #fiction #buddhism #mythology

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