#anyway felt 15 again like I was sketching her on my school desk again trying not to get caught | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skelobun · 1 year

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I wanna be yours (pt.2)

Ellie x overachiever/artsy!reader [modern!au]

Summary: You and Ellie always seem to have “hated” each other, until one day you realize that may not be the case.

[rivals to lovers trope]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

[kind of (?) proof read]

[long chapter]

You walked into class the next day, but today you were late because your alarm hadn’t gone off.

Your teacher glared at you and then told you to take a seat. You obliged and looked for an empty seat, and of course the only seat available was the one that was right beside Ellie.

You placed your bag on the floor beside your desk and sat down.

As your teacher started the lesson, you felt as if someone was looking at you. You turned your head and of course Ellie was staring.

She quickly turned away as she realized that you saw her looking at you.

You thought it was funny how it seemed like she thought that you wouldn’t notice her looking at you, especially since you were right beside her, but you just ignored it like you always do and continued taking notes.

After class, while you were on your phone, you heard Ellie call your name. Of course you didn’t want to acknowledge it, but you didn’t want to seem completely rude either so you turned around and replied with a simple “what is it?”.

She jokingly rolled her eyes and then said “can you send me photos of the notes you took in class today?”

You looked at her confused. Usually, Ellie will take her own notes, so this seemed out of character.

“You usually take your own notes, why didn’t you take them today? Also, I don’t even have your number, so how would I even send them to you?” you tell her, not fully answering her question.

“Here” she said before taking your phone from your hands and putting her phone number into your phone.

You hated when people touched your stuff, especially if it was Ellie. You glared at her and quickly grabbed your phone away from her when she finished.

“So.. are you gonna send ‘em to me or?”

You rolled your eyes and said “fine, i’ll send them to you after school. Now leave me alone, I’m trying to get to class”.

Thank god that Ellie wasn’t in this class. This was the only class that Ellie didn’t have with you.

[after school]

You were at Ellie’s house again, you both were painting the sketches you guys drew yesterday.

You constantly caught yourself looking at Ellie’s painting. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, it was actually really well done for a painting that wasn’t even close to being finished.

She saw you looking at her painting and said with a cocky tone “are you admiring my amazing painting skills?”.

You rolled your eyes and continued to paint.

You had to admit though, her painting skills were actually admirable. The way she was so careful with the colours she painted with and the amount of detail she put into her paintings was beautiful.

You look at the time.

It’s 7:39 PM so you decide to go home.

“Hey, I’m gonna go home now” you say as you grab your backpack off of the floor.

She replies with a “mhm” before saying “do you want me to drop you off? It’s gonna be dark soo-“

You cut her off and say “it’s fine, it’s still pretty bright outside so I’ll walk there”

Even though you didn’t want to walk to your house, you really wanted to avoid the awkward silence of the car ride yesterday so you refused her offer.

It was only a 15 minute walk from her house to yours anyways, so it wasn’t that bad.

You left at the perfect time too because right when you got home, the sun set. You took your shoes off and walked into the kitchen to make yourself a snack.

You walked upstairs to your room and put your binder on your desk. As you put your binder on the desk, you remembered how earlier you told Ellie you’d give her your study notes.

You sighed as you took your phone out to take a photo. You hesitated to send her the notes, knowing that she’d make fun of you if she caught the smallest mistake in your notes.

Right when you sent her the photo, she replied right away with a simple “thanks”. You didn’t know she’d reply so quick so it caught you off guard. It wasn’t absurd for someone to reply quickly, so you just shrugged it off and turned your phone off.

You played some music and started getting ready to study.

[2 hours later]

It was 9:57 PM now. You had been studying for two hours, taking the occasional break here and there.

You took your headphones off and then walked downstairs to eat something for dinner.

Your mom wasn’t home yet and you knew she wouldn’t be there until midnight, so you just cooked your own food.

While you were cooking your phone had gotten a notification. You were cooking and you didn’t want your food to burn, so you didn’t check the notification until after.

Once you finished cooking you brought your food up to your room and checked who the notification was from.

It was from Ellie.

You rolled your eyes and replied:

[italics is you and bold is ellie]

Hey

Thanks again for the study notes‼️

Btw, y’know that you messed up the spelling on certain words lol

Read 10:23 PM

You threw your phone on your bed and groaned.

You double checked your notes and realized that Ellie was right. You messed up certain spellings on certain words and you hated how you didn’t notice that earlier.

[in the morning]

You wake up and it’s only 7:00 AM, you leave your warm bed and get ready for school.

When you finished getting ready you walked downstairs and checked the time, it was 7:45 AM now. You quickly made some eggs, ate it and left your house.

As you walked to school you walked by Dina’s house. You didn’t feel like walking alone so you rang her doorbell.

She opened the door and said “oh! Y/N! Why’re you here?” she exclaims with a smile on her face.

You give her a warm smile and say “wanna walk together?”

Dina nods and quickly puts her shoes on.

Dina and you talk the whole time, she talks about her boyfriend, Jesse, while you complain about Ellie.

“You sure you don’t have a crush on her or something? You’re always talking about her”

She’s obviously teasing you when she says this, but you can’t help but get irritated.

“Oh come on, Dina, y’know that I can’t stand her for a reason. She thinks she’s so much better than me, it’s so annoying!” you say while rolling your eyes.

“But has Ellie even said that to you directly?”

You pause.

She’s never said it directly.

You keep thinking about it, but nothing pops up.

She really has never said that to you.

Dina ends the silence.

“Don’t worry, I know what you mean though, Ellie is just overly competitive in every aspect and loves bragging about it, so I don’t think it’s anything against you”

You stay silent.

You both made it to school and as you walked in, you saw Ellie. She was standing right beside your locker with that smug look on her face that always irritates you.

You sigh and walk up to your locker.

“Hey” she says, with her arms crossed.

You ignore her.

“Why’d you leave me on read last night?” She pretends to act like she’s hurt.

You roll your eyes and close your locker.

“I was tired so I didn’t respond…” you reply, technically it wasn’t a complete lie since you were tired, but she knew that wasn’t the reason.

[after school]

You’re with Ellie, Jesse and Dina in a library, all four of you are doing homework. You start struggling on certain parts of your homework, but you were hesitant to ask for help.

First you asked Dina, but since she’s not in the same class as you, she didn’t know how to do the homework you had been assigned.

You asked Jesse and he didn’t know how to do it either.

Your only option was Ellie. So you swallowed your pride and tapped Ellie on the shoulder to get her attention.

Ellie removes her headphones and replies with a “mhm?”

“Uh, can you help me with this question? I’m struggling with it” you manage to ask her, even though you knew she’d make fun of you.

Even though you expected her to tease you, she actually helped you, without making a comment about it.

When she explained it, it made so much sense.

You immediately thanked her and continued to work.

Dina and Jesse left because they had a date planned, so it was just you and Ellie left.

Both you and Ellie were sitting in silence, until Ellie spoke.

“Hey, how about we go eat somewhere or something after we’re done?”

You think about it for a second, your mom isn’t gonna be home any time soon and you don’t feel like cooking, so you say yes.

She smiles at you and you smile back at her.

Eventually, you both finish your homework and you two leave the library.

“So where do you wanna go? Hm?” Ellie asks you while you guys get in her car.

You think about it for a second and recommend a café you love going to.

She nods and then drives there.

The drive there wasn’t as awkward, both you and Ellie actually have a full on conversation without you getting annoyed with her.

She kept making cheesy puns and you would end up laughing so hard at them.

It was so funny how she just had all of these puns memorized at the top of her head.

You guys got to the café you recommended and you decided to leave your backpack in Ellie’s car so you wouldn’t have to carry it around in the café. All you bring with you is your phone and wallet.

As you walk in, Ellie asks if you recommend anything specific. You think about it for a second and then tell her that she should get this one sandwich that you always order when you’re there.

She smiles and then agrees to try it.

When you try to order at the counter, you start to feel awkward. You’ve never really been great at things like ordering food, so you choke up every time you try to do it. Ellie notices this and asks you what you want to order. You’re confused but you tell her what you want anyway, then she moves you out of the way and orders for the both of you.

You thank her for doing that for you, then you guys both sit down and talk to pass the time.

While you’re talking you never realized how fun talking to Ellie actually was. Usually, she’d be the only one talking since you’d never really bothered to talk to her.

Finally, the food comes and you guys start eating.

You wanted to try something different so you didn’t get the sandwich you usually order.

You and Ellie continue to talk and the more you talk, the more you realize you guys have in common.

Other than both of you loving art, both of you enjoy the same shows, same books and have similar music tastes.

You never knew Ellie would like these things, but then again, you had never really bothered to have a normal conversation with her.

“Hey, if you don’t mind, how about we hang out again some day?” You say to Ellie.

Ellie smiles and chuckles as she says “are you trying to go on a date with me or something?”

You roll your eyes and say “I was asking mainly so we could finish our project, but fine, if you don’t want to hang out then we won’t”

Ellie quickly replied “no! No! I was kidding! Let’s hang out, maybe tomorrow? If you’re free”

You nodded and then smiled to show her that you agreed.

Suddenly, Ellie asked a question that you didn’t expect her to ask “so, Y/N, what’s the real reason you left me on read last night? Hm?”

You pause for a moment and then clear your throat before replying “I just didn’t feel like responding to be completely honest”

She pretends to be offended, but obviously she’s joking. So you roll your eyes and apologize with a joking tone.

“Hey, it’s gettin’ kinda late, how ‘bout I drop you off?” Ellie offers. You look outside and see that the sun has started to set. You accept her offer since you really didn’t feel like walking.

“Come on, let’s go” Ellie says as she stands up from her chair.

“Yeah, give me a second, I’m gonna pay for my food”

Ellie nods and then goes outside to unlock her car.

While you’re paying, the lady at the counter says “you and your girlfriend look really cute together!”

You look at her with widened eyes.

“Oh! Ma’am! I think you’ve gotten the wrong idea! Me and her aren’t dating! We’re barely even friends”

You laugh awkwardly.

The lady looks at you confused.

“You sure? The way she looks at you is a bit…”

But before the lady can finish her sentence, her manager calls her to the back to help him with something, and you’re left standing there with a confused look on your face.

You walk outside and see Ellie in her car. You open the passenger seat door and then you sit inside the car. You tell Ellie about what the lady said and she starts laughing.

The whole car ride isn’t as awkward as the first one you guys shared. This time, it feels less uncomfortable.

You finally get home and thank Ellie for the car ride home.

“So… I’ll see you tomorrow I guess?” you say to her.

She nods and says “yup, come over around 3 - ish?” she smiles and then drives away.

While she drives home she realizes that you left your backpack in her car.

She decides she’ll give it to you tomorrow and when she gets home she instantly texts you to tell you that you had forgotten your backpack.

Hey

Oh hi

You forgot your backpack in my car

Omg

I knew i forgot smth

Can you give it to me tmrw?🙏

Sure :)

read 9:40 PM

After today, you realize that Ellie might not be as annoying as you thought she was. She was actually fun to talk to.

Maybe you could give her a chance.

___________

Since this is enemies/rivals to lovers I don’t want to rush the romance too much, so this’ll be 4-5 parts? Most will be 5, i don’t wanna write too many parts </33

#ellie williams #ellie williams fic #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #lesbian #the last of us #the last of us fic #Spotify

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years

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When We Were Young Part One

Part Two | Masterlist Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Rating: T

Notes: Enola Holmes got me, guys, what can I say. I mean seriously, look at that curl. I’m considering writing more, still kinda sussing it out. Not sure yet.

Warnings: Uuuuuh none

Summary: You were an only child, a girl (which had disappointed your parents), and while you loved to learn, you hated your governess. You were curious, a little wild, and lonely.

As a child, Ferndell Hall was a second home to you. You lived down the road from the Holmes’ and tended to hide away there whenever you got into a fight with your mother (which was often). You were an only child, a girl (which had disappointed your parents), and while you loved to learn, you hated your governess. You were curious, a little wild, and lonely. Not that you were any less lonely with the Holmes boys. Mycroft was always making up games with ridiculous rules and amendments to try and keep you from playing them. Sherlock usually stayed out of yours and Mycroft’s arguments - you could hold your own against him anyway. When Mycroft couldn’t be bothered with you anymore, you’d trail behind Sherlock, trying to hold his hand to keep up with him, asking him a thousand questions about what he was reading, or what he was doing. He’d indulge you some of the time, but others he’d ignore you in favor of a book, or a drawing. It was those moments that you ran to Eudoria and Enola. “Never mind them,” Eudoria would tell you, when you were pouting over Mycroft making over some additional stupid rule, or Sherlock not even bothering to look at you from behind his book. “Why don’t they like me?” You asked one day, watching Mycroft and Sherlock fence with one another in the front yard. Eudoria looked down at you. “Why does it matter to you how they feel?” “Everyone wants to be liked,” You rationalized. Eudoria hummed thoughtfully, smoothing a hand over your hair. “Focus more on the company you would like to keep, dove. Not on the company that will not keep you.” -- When their father passed away, it was clear that both Mycroft and Sherlock would be sent to boarding schools. Your parents allowed a brief lapse in your studies so that you could spend more time with them before they left Ferndell. Mycroft was sent away first, and Sherlock would be sent soon after. On the day he was set to leave, you and Sherlock waited in the front hall, watching as his things were packed into a carriage. “Will you write?” Sherlock asked quietly. You turned to him, surprised. “...If you like,” You said after a moment. He didn’t meet your eye, just nodded. --

“Mother is missing.” Coming from Enola, that was a shock. You had watched her grow, she wasn’t the type to tease about something like this, especially where Eudoria was involved. “What’s happened?” You asked. As the years had gone by, you had continued to visit Ferndell, spent time with Eudoria, Enola, and Mrs. Lane. You’d fallen out of contact with Sherlock. You’d written letters, gotten one or two back, and grown frustrated. You’d stopped writing, remembering what Eudoria had told you: “Focus more on the company you would like to keep.” You looked in on Enola and Mrs. Lane every day that week, only insinuating yourself in Enola’s space where she wanted you - you knew that her mother was her chief companion and didn’t want to crowd her. You couldn’t help the lingering concern you had for Eudoria. “You’re good to come and check on ‘er,” Mrs. Lane sighed as the two of you shared a sherry, “It’ll be better when Sherlock comes home.” “The boys have been sent for?” You asked, eyeing your drink. “ ‘Course. Enola’ll be collecting them tomorrow.” Tomorrow. You were suddenly not in the mood for your sherry anymore. -- “They’ve already gone through the parlor-- Mycroft didn’t like our tennis rackets,” Enola said as you followed her down the hall to the kitchen, “And-- they were going through Mother’s room. Mycroft said Mother’s been sending him lists of expenses for all sorts of things-- a footman and a governess.” “Goodness,” You mumbled, frowning, “Well, I’m sure your mother has a reason. She has a reason for everything.” Enola slid onto one of the stools in the kitchen, folding her arms on the table and propping her chin up on her hand. She perked her head up the second someone else stepped into the kitchen. “Mrs. Lane, if we could have some wine. We’ll be in the library.” You glanced in the direction of the voice; that glance alone was enough to know it was him. Enola had proudly kept every single clipping of every single case he’d ever solved; the sketches in the paper didn’t nearly do him justice. You glanced away quickly enough again as you felt his head turn toward you; as Mrs. Lane said, “Of course, Mr. Holmes.” “...Aren’t you going to say hello to Sherlock?” Enola asked. You raised a brow before glancing in his direction again. “Hello to Sherlock,” You said simply. The smile that lit up Enola’s face was worth it, especially after the week she’d had. It was almost gratifying, his staring, and you were moderately certain he had absolutely no idea who you were. “I have business to attend to at home, but if you need anything, you know where to reach me,” You addressed both Enola and Mrs. Lane before turning back to Sherlock. “Don’t strain yourself,” You said coolly as you brushed past him. -- “Impatient.” You lifted your head from the letter you’d been focusing on to see Sherlock leaning in the doorway of your study. “...Excuse me?” You asked. “Your handwriting,” He said, stepping further into your study, “When I was at school, I was made to study calligraphy, and I used to study your letters. The ink was often smudged, because you write quickly, which means you’re impatient. The size of your lettering is large implying that you’re outspoken, comfortable in your own skin, and the spacing is narrow, which means you can’t stand being alone.” He stopped in front of your desk, looking down at you. You set your pen aside, tipping your chin up. “Do you have a reason for being here, Mr. Holmes?” You asked. Sherlock lowered himself into one of the seats across from you, reaching into his pocket and pulling his pipe out. Your arched a brow. “I wanted to ask you about--” “You’re not smoking in here.” Sherlock stilled, looking at you. “Excuse me?” “Which part of that was unclear?” You asked. Sherlock stared at you for a moment before tucking his pipe away. "I remember you,” He said. “Charming, well done.” “I wanted to talk to you about my mother.” “Go on, then.” "My mother hasn’t said anything to you about a trip, a change?” “None. You know Eudoria keeps her cards close to her chest.” “And you haven’t noticed any suspicious characters around the house?” “You suspect she’s gone off with someone?” You quirked a brow, “She’d never. No one is more important to your mother than Enola.” “You have a theory?” Sherlock asked. “You’re the detective here, Mr. Holmes, not me. If you’ll excuse me, I’m rather busy.” Sherlock gave a nod as he stood. You leaned back over your letter, picking up your pen. You froze when you heard him murmur, “It’s good to see you again, dove.” You looked up to see him lingering by your door, an odd, almost soft smile on his face. He gave you a quick nod before he left, door shutting behind him. -- “Whole house is up in arms,” Mrs. Lane was scrubbing the kitchen table down for what had to be the fifth time. “Mrs. Lane, please,” You soothed, gently steering her to sit, “Let me make us some tea, hmm?” Enola was gone. No warning, no note, just a caricature of Mycroft on a pillow (you’d seen it and let out an incredibly unladylike snort). “You going to London-- And the boys as well, it’ll just be me rattling around the house,” Mrs. Lane sighed as you set a fresh cuppa down in front of her. She reached up, patting your cheek in thanks. -- “Did I hear Mrs. Lane say you’ll be going into town?” You turned at the sound of Sherlock’s voice and found him a few paces behind you. The path between Ferndell Hall and your home was a scenic one, quiet and well-trod. You stopped to allow him to catch up, folding your arms over your chest, “Might I ask why you were eavesdropping?” “Is it really eavesdropping if it occurs in ones own home?” He asked. “If one was not intended to be privy to the conversation, yes.” Sherlock considered this for a moment before he stepped around you, continuing toward your home. You frowned after him before you followed, lengthening your strides to catch up. “What takes you there?” He asked. “I’ve business to attend to.” “You used that same phrase the other day,” Sherlock reminded you. “And it is as true now as it was then,” You said. “What sort of ‘business’ is it?” “I have to look in on my aunt, for one, and meet with a couple of my father’s investors. He’s been ill, so he’s unable to make the trip himself.” “And he trusts you to do it for him?” You looked up to find Sherlock’s brow furrowed and you rolled your eyes. “Try not to look so shocked. You’re not the only person in the world capable of getting things done.” “You used to chase after Mycroft and I, you wanted your hand held at all times,” Sherlock reminded you. You scoffed, stopping and turning to face him. “I was a child,” You snapped. He stopped as well, tucking his hands into his pockets, and you went on, “And I was lonely-- And it’s not as if you or Mycroft did anything to assuage that.” You saw a flash of hurt in Sherlock’s eyes, the brief clench of his jaw before his face returned to that calm, observant set. You shook your head, averting your eyes. You hardly lost your temper anymore, had learned to school your emotions to get ahead when needed. Why on earth was he bringing this out in you? “If you’ll excuse me,” You said stiffly, stepping around him. “When do you leave for London?” He asked. You stopped again, turning a little to look at him; he wouldn’t meet your eye, his gaze set on the ground. “Tomorrow,” You said. “The 9:15?” He asked. “Yes,” You nodded. “Perhaps I’ll see you at the station.” “...Perhaps.”

#Sherlock Holmes x Reader #Sherlock Holmes x You #Even in the heyday of my BBC Sherlock interest did not write Sherlock Holmes x Reader fic but Henry Cavill's Curls are Out Here Doing That #So HERE WE ARE GUYS #Sherlock Holmes Imagine #Sherlock Holmes Henry Cavill #Sherlock Holmes/Reader #Sherlock Holmes/You #When We Were Young

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darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years

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lmao retail workers always have aces up their sleeves! Anyways, I'm in a sally face mood today and it's been a while since last time I requested something! Can I request some fluffy romantic head-canons for Sally? 💙 ilovehimsomuch I need some cliché high school crush stuff, how would he get his clueless S/O's attention, how does he confess? Kill me with fluff! *swoons*

GJAUIWKUFYVHCHEJBFILAUSOV*PUIG FHAWUIFG F:IAWOFIGAWIUA

YOU LIKE

SALLY FAC E!?#!?!

OF:AH:AWIFHOAWUFHOAWU:FHAW

I SCREECHED OUT LOUD AND I TEARED UP

OAUGIAAWI’M BREATHING HEAVIER THAN THE HEAVY BREATHING CAT MEME

YES YES YEFS YE SYE SYES YES I WILL WRITE ANYTHING FOR SALLY MY GOD, I CAN’T STOP MY EXCTITEMENT, BLESSSSSSS, IDK IF I CAN WRITE PROPERLY, I”M SORRY BUT OMFG I”m SO ENTHUSIASTIC ATM ;AWIHFAWOF:HAWO

---

HE IS SO SWEET AND BEAUTIFUL

And yes, now I can write properly, got a 15 minute walk with my puppy and now I’m calmer.All good x

---

Poor Poor Sal, if it wasn’t for Larry and his other friends that he met, his Highschool experience would have been a living nightmare...Not that most of his life wasn’t already pretty tragic as it was.

Thankfully, he wasn’t a dumb person, contrary to what his bullies thought, but he wasn’t a genius either, so there were a few times where he might have needed some academic help, and you were there to help, which is how you became friends.

He was absolutely shocked that you treated him so kindly, as if there wasn’t nothing wrong with him - Or rather said, as if he was just a normal kid with no mask, no weird long blue hair with 2 pigtails and a girly nickname or a pretty short stature.

Sal was even more surprised when you suggested going to a nice and more private cafe to study, claiming it would be a much better atmosphere for studying and relaxing, which would eliminate any shyness and nervousness either of you would have, and honestly, he was incredibly grateful for your intuition and kindness with everything.

Your voice was so warm and kind, you were so patient, helping him out with every little thing that for you might seem easy, but he was struggling with...

Your smile was dazzling, looking like literal sunshine, your hair was draping and framing your face like you were a renaissance painting made by da Vinci, and your vibe was so soothing that he felt as safe as if you, a guardian angel, was wrapping her pristine wings around him.

His heart was beating so fast, and at first he didn’t understand why - Or rather said, he didn’t want to admit that he actually fell for someone.

I mean...He’s Sally Face...Who’d ever like someone as weird and disfigured as him...?

That day, when you were done studying, he walked you home, and you smiled so sweetly at him when you waved him goodbye, that he felt his knees weaken.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Sal.”

It wasn’t a goodbye, it was a see you later - You actually were okay with seeing him again.

Larry is the first person who hears about everything and you bet he’s super happy about the whole idea, and he’s going to play match-maker no matter what.

His bro’s happiness is the most important thing in his life, after all, and if you showed him so much kindness and were so passive about his looks and everything, then that can only mean you have the potential to be such a great match for the blue haired soft baby.

From then on, Larry is going to make sure you are one of the group and you hang out with them more often, and as often as possible, would get everyone away from there, leaving only the two of you alone.

Sal would try to use some gaming flirt lines or pick up lines, but you’d merely laugh at how funny, cute and imaginative they were, not picking up the hint.

He would give you little gifts, with some occasions even flowers, but you’d only play it as him being a sweetheart with his friends.

He would even write songs for you and will give them to you, but you only thought he was trying to write love songs to express himself.

Everything he tried to do, all the little, subtle...Not so subtle hints that he tried to give you, when he tried to test out the waters...They only made you think he was a nice friend.

He couldn’t realise how you could be so clueless to his affections towards you, and it was driving him crazy.

Not only him, but Larry as well, would groan and hit his head on the desk, annoyed at how blind you could be and how you were forcing Sal to outright confess his love for you, so after a long enough time, when the blue haired boy finally managed to muster the courage, Larry started helping him create a love confession.

He would hype up Sally a lot and help him rehears how to ask you out, what to wear, what to say, what to gift you and so on...

But honestly now, when do plans E V E R work the way they are supposed to?!

He’s a mess, he’s stuttering and blushing like crazy (not that you can see it), he somehow managed to grip so hard on the flowers out of anxiousness that he destroyed them and he basically had to run away so he wouldn’t make an even bigger idiot out of him and make you hate him.

You tried to access his walkie talkie a lot, but he kept it shut out of embarrassment, so Larry was the next best option, and he mentioned a place where Sal would go sometimes when he needs to feel better, so following the directions, you saw Sal playing his guitar while staring up at the cloud, his voice expressing the beautiful sorrow that he felt in his heart.

You listened attentively to the sad lyrics and you realised that he himself wrote the lyrics, and you approached him as soon as he was done with the song.

“That was beautiful, Sal. I never knew you had such an angelic voice. And your guitar skills are really something...Will you teach me one day?” you walked next to him, unintentionally scaring him out of his wits.

That only made him let out a small shriek, jolting in place and hitting his head on a tree branch, and in result, making his mask fly away.

He didn’t realise it at first, especially because you didn’t sketch any kind of reaction when you went to fetch him back the mask, and he only realised it when you kneeled next to him, offering to help him put it back.

Poor Sally freaked out big time, covering his face, saying how you shouldn’t look at someone like him, that you’re too perfect to stay around him, and you could feel his voice wavering, breaking, his eyes glistering with tears.

It took every ounce of power you had to put away his hands and kiss him as gently as possible, only to leave him speechless, powerless, unable to hold the tears from streaming his pale cheeks.

Once you reassure him that he is in no way ugly, and that he shouldn’t ever downgrade his worth the way he did, the only thing he can say is a short and genuine love confession, so soft and genuine that it made your heart skip a bit, seeing the love and innocence in his beautiful eyes.

From then on, you, Sal and Larry would be the terrific trio, but this is a request specifically about Sally, so here goes that.

He’s still going to feel insecure, since you could do SO much better, he says, but you wouldn’t hear any of that shit.

He would let you play with his hair, styling it in any way you want, and hell, if you want to, he could style your hair in any way you want, and yes, that means braiding too.

Sally would absolutely MELT if you’d want to match clothes or hairstyles with him, oh god, how cute would that be?!

He honestly looks at you like a Goddess or something since you’re always so sweet with him, even during the times when you’re sad about something, which is when he knows he must step in and make sure you’re okay, trying his best to at least make you smile, if you can’t feel a genuine laugh.

Sal loves to gift you plushies for some reason and when he sees you cuddling with it on a night when you have a sleep over...You killed this boy.

Overall, he’s...Like...The sweetest person in the world? Would care about you, your heart and your well-being literally above anything else?

Would be okay with hugs and cuddles and kisses of any kind at ANY time you want, no matter the place or occasion.

If you’re in public, he would blush a bit, but as long as it made you happy, it didn’t really matter.

And, I mean, it kinda made him be filled with a certain sense of pride and confidence whenever you’d so freely flaunt your relationship in public because -

YOU WEREN’T ASHAMED OF BEING WITH HIM!!!

And

HE WAS LUCKY ENOUGH TO HAVE AN ANGEL AS HIS LOVER!!!

So basically

He got the Jackpot.

#sally face #sally face x reader #sally face imagine #sal fisher #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher imagine #larry johnson #fluff #Ashley Campbell

715 notes · View notes

weeklyfangirl · 4 years

Text

Frat Boy Pt. 21

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19 , part 20

HI LOVIES. Please enjoy a Friday update on the Frat Boy universe. This one is a bit of a breather after the TUMULTUOUS ANGST of the last chappie. Shorter than my usual, but it’s all the chapter needed. Tons more y/n and Harry interaction on the way in the next! Have a safe and happy day loves xx

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Things I want:

Live a life that helps others

Financial freedom

Experience a great love

Visit the the Pincio Gardens in Italy

To have more dreams and fewer nightmares

Doodle more

Acquire a first edition book, either because an old friendly man who owns an antique bookshop decides to give it to me in a bonding moment, or because I have accomplished #2 and I am celebrating being a Boss Bitch

To be happy

Please note: not necessarily in that order

It was taped above my desk, waiting for me to bring it in to the next session. I hesitated to write number 6. It was a dream I hardly entertained after committing my scholarly life to pursue medicine. I used to love to doodle. All the time. Since elementary school. I doodled so much my mom dedicated a wall in the house to my illustrations. She hung a sign above it that affectionately said “Y/N’s Doodles.” Seriously, you couldn’t get me to stop. Even if it was gross sappy sketches of my crush Billy who I would NEVER show on the playground at recess.

My doodling stopped how these things normally do. Because life grew busier than anything else, and the sketchpad and easel my dad had bought for me at a garage sale became ignored, collecting dust in the corner of my room. At some point, it’d become a year since I’d drawn anything, and then it was two, and three, and by this point I’d realized I was the one who’d need to create her own stability in life and medicine was the more logical fit. It wasn’t that I didn’t see the value in drawing anymore, I just had other things take up my time. It became a comfort just knowing I used to draw. Paul had paved his way, and now I was on my way to do the same. At least with medicine, my soul felt fed. It was almost comfort enough.

“oH WE GOT A ROGUE ONE.”

A flying toenail hit my eye.

“WHAT THE-” I flailed my arms, as though there were a thousand more coming. Renny’s mouth opened in shock, her guilty body hunched over her bent leg. Clippers in hand.

“Sorry!!” Renny burst up laughing.

“oH MY GOSH CAN YOU DO THAT OVER A TRASH CAN OR SOMETHING?!”

“IT HAD A MIND OF ITS OWN!!” she screamed back.

I blinked rapidly, my left eye watering up and spilling painless tears. “Well I’m going to have conjunctivitis at the studio later. Or I’ll be stumbling in blind.” I wiped it away.

I heard another clip and she put up her hands with another giggle.

“All done. And you won’t stumble, I’m going to be there.” Renny extended her leg, her perfectly trimmed foot nearly touching the ceiling.

“You’re just going to solicit Zayn to be his next subject.”

“Maybe,” her grin grew devious. “But also because I want to see if he captured the angelic beauty and complex nymph nuances of my best friend.”

I put a hand to my chest, still aching from uncertainty. “Honored.”

“Want to watch another episode until it’s time to go?”

This whole lazy morning had been an OC Housewives bingefest. She’d seen it on my homepage and had a complete spazz, twitching whilst proclaiming but i’ve been trying to get you to watch this show for YEARS!! When she saw the old season I was on, though, she didn’t have to question why her pestering had miraculously worked. She didn’t mention him aloud besides giving me a pointed look. And so, we watched it, even though I wasn’t really in the mood to see anything about Harry right now. It’d hurt more than I thought to walk away from him last night, and to see how sad he looked when I did.

After last night, he hadn’t posted anything to social media. He’d called, twice, but I knew he was drunk, or worse, and I was tired, and whatever he would say he could tell me in the morning. Even though I knew he wouldn’t.

And he didn’t.

And therein lay the problem.

It hurt to see his family on my little box of a computer screen, weird to see his life and get glimpses of his childhood. I felt like a hacker spying on home videos. But then I reminded myself that thousands of people had already done the same. At this point, it was just… morbid curiosity.

“Nah, I don’t know if I can handle any more of that right now. Dr. Rhinecuff is going to yell at me if I don’t return these scanned copies to him by Monday.”

“Ew, he smells like meat.”

“RENNY!!”

“I’m just saying. That one time I went with you it smelled like pastrami in his office. He has a PhD, but isn’t with-it enough to buy air freshener.”

“He likes pastrami sandwiches, let him live.”

She scrolled on her phone, not bothering to respond, and my gaze turned to the window.

“Hey Renny?”

“Hm.”

A bird flew close to the glass, halting just before it hit it, then zooming off in the opposite direction. “What’d you do when your parents were fighting?”

“Ummm…” I knew the question registered in her mind when she stopped scrolling, suddenly concerned. “Are your parents okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, kind of.” I glossed over it, not caring to get into the bitter details. “I was just curious.”

“Uhh..” She plucked at the soft cotton of her cotton candy pajamas that were fraying at the knees. “I lost my virginity to Zach,” she half-laughed.

“Zach? Neighbor boy Zach?”

Renny nodded. She always sounded a little sad when she talked about him. Zach was the hot college boy who shared a backyard fence with Renny, the girl who may or may not have used her kitchen stool to peak over and see him workout on the grass every summer he came home. I’d known they’d slept together. I just didn’t think he was her first.

“I just tried to be out of the house as much as I could,” she said. “Found my true love Mary J.”

“Oh.”

“It was shitty, but I’m glad I got it over with.”

“The divorce or your virginity.”

“Both,” she chortled. “Why what’s up? Are you sad or something? I have a j in my drawer.”

“No, no, I’m fine.” Mostly I was just wondering what it must be like to feel so sexually liberated. In my house sex wasn’t talked about. At all. The inevitable sex scene in every other movie would result in my dad blaring out “WHAT KIND OF MOVIE IS THIS!” in an attempt to make it less awwkard, but having it backfire and only make it horrendously more awkward. I wasn’t saving my virginity for anyone in particular, but after all those romance novels, I wanted it to be… something. I wanted to feel something towards the person where it would justify something I’ve kept to myself for so long. I wanted it to be intense. I wanted it to be like the books. Like a Frank Sinatra song that swept up your heart and transported you back to a time of gentlemen and cigars and women in long evening gowns with fur coats and martinis.

“I wish I could just get it over with,” I confessed. One half of me screamed YOU’RE IN YOUR TWENTIES HAVE ALL THE SEX while the other half said YOU’VE WAITED THIS LONG DAMN IT HOLD OUT A LITTLE LONGER. I didn’t know which part of me was compromising more.

Renny leaned in, quick. “Would you do it with Harry?”

Like the flip of a switch, I remembered the sensuous heat of his body against mine, wrapping me up and pressing me against him where we just fit. And I couldn’t imagine how much better it’d feel to be even more connected to him.

“Maybeeee…?”

But then there was last night.

I cringed. No matter how with me he’d seemed… he couldn’t have been present after mixing whatever the hell he took and a handle of alcohol. Did I really want someone like that? Someone who could only give a shell of themselves?

“No, I wouldn’t. Or- ugh, I don’t know. I don’t know if it could ever mean as much to him.”

Renny nodded. “I mean, don’t let him pressure you, obviously. If he does, I’ll kick his baby maker smack into his prostate. Prostate. See, anatomy. You taught me that.”

“Haha, no, he’s not like that.” My brows stitched. I was confused why he wasn’t more like that, actually. We’d known each other for several months now and he hadn’t even put a finger in me. When I thought about it, it actually frustrated me. Don’t pressure me to do anything, but I wanted to be pushed to do something. I was never the bold one in areas like this.

Not that I should be so willing to do anything with him anymore anyways. Something shifted in me when I’d seen him last night. It wasn’t a shift I could easily describe, but it’d set me a foot apart from my heart. A bit of me was shocked that it had happened so suddenly.

But this shift was new, and my heart still wanted what it wanted. I knew that if I watched any more OC Housewives with Harry’s toddler curls and surfer tan, I’d be sucked right back into speculating about what our future kids could look like. And if I saw him?

You were right, Harry. You are fucked.

I cringed again. That was harsh. That was very very harsh.

I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to apologize. What if my pheromones went berserk and magnetized me to his side??

Renny was right.

I needed therapy.

The clippers were tossed back on my desk.

“Thanks,” she said. “Have you started on your DG Double P yet?”

DG Double P = Renny Speak for DG Pretty Please.

I groaned. “No. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, honestly. I have to-”

“NO!!! Don’t tell me. We’re not supposed to tell each other.” Her hand extended in panic.

“Fine. I can keep a secret.”

I was getting a little too good at that lately.

She moved onto her belly, splaying her arms out in a dramatic fashion, face squished against the comforter. “Isn’t it just killing you inside.” She was dead serious.

“Yeah, more than you know.”

And I was serious, too.

--------------------------------------

I wasn’t expecting people to dress up as much as they did. Donned in my only pair of yoga pants and a chunky white sweater, I walked arm-in-arm with Renny past girls in cocktail dresses and guys in button-downs.

Something that sounded like a baby’s cry filled my ears, but it was gone as soon as we walked through the doors to the on-campus gallery. .

“Woah did you hear that?”

Renny nodded, tossing her head back. “There’s a baby somewhere.”

It reminded me of the bodiless screams in my nightmare. In my chunky sweater, I shivered undetectably.

The on-campus gallery rotated exhibits throughout the year, but this time, student sculptures were on pedestals, nightmarish portraits hung on the walls, and red and orange tapestries swooped down and across the ceiling in a cirque-du-soleil moment as if to secure us beneath fire. Some students had separate booths, but other pieces of work trailed seamlessly into the next.

A tree made from photographs and newspaper took up the center of the space. Zayn had been so adamant about his muse having life, I wondered if that was the focus of this exhibit - to capture natural life. But I suppose all art did.

“It’s the circle of life exhibit,” Renny stated, as if reading my thoughts.

“How’d you know that?”

She held up a pamphlet she must’ve grabbed from the entrance.

I quickly scanned the room, hoping to find Zayn quickly so I could skip out just as quick.

Several of my professors were here, including Dr. Rhinecuff. When he saw me, I raised my hand, but he raised his cup of red wine awkwardly and looked away.

My hand wavered.

Odd.

Zayn was standing by the tree, speaking with an older woman. Her skin was a rich brown, short hair hidden beneath a chic scarf. The man beside her looked around the same age with graying facial hair, a pocket hanky, and beaded bracelets. Art professors.

I caught his gaze, and he gestured me over.

“Y/N, these are my instructors. David and Ebony.”

Their eyes lit up in recognition. “He did you a great justice,” David said, gray moustache twitching with the words.

Ebony beamed. “Oh yes, a piece was already sold. He’s going to be the next big wig before he graduates,” she gushed. “Zayn, I’m sure you’ll be splitting the profits with the heart of the piece.”

She gestured to me and his smile widened, but my stomach sank faster.

“I didn’t know these pieces were going to be sold.”

Ebony sensed my concern. The wine in her glass swirled. “We thought allowing the pieces to be shown and auctioned was a good way to replicate what many of them should be doing once they graduate. The whole department gets involved, and these kids put in a lot of work, and the reputation of starving artists isn’t something we want to buy into here.”

I nodded. “I mean, that’s great. That’s… really amazing.”

Zayn couldn’t meet my eyes. He knew. He could sense my hesitance, too.

“Now he can finally afford a nice dinner to take you out!” David proclaimed.

We were all quiet for a minute. “You know, for a thank you dinner,” David covered up. Zayn’s brows scrunched and he shook his head a bit, not knowing where David’s comment came from.

“Do you do this regularly?” Ebony asked, steering the conversation away from an awkward moment.

My ears pricked up when I realized she was looking at me. “Excuse me?”

“Well I was just thinking…” a light laugh lifted as if her idea would be outrageous. “Would you mind sitting in for one of my classes on Monday? Our model had a sudden death-”

“My God,” David proclaimed.

Ebony waved her hand. “-in his family. I haven’t called to replace him yet.”

It quieted as they looked at me, waiting for a response. “Oh, I don’t… I don’t usually do this. At all. It was a chance thing.”

“Luck be the artist.” David raised his glass.

Ebony followed suit, looking at my empty hand. “You just going to let her stand there without a drink?”

“Yeah, Zayn. What kind of treatment is this?” I teased.

He did a slight bow. “Apologies. We’ll walk to drinks, immediately.” He pulled us away, leading us further into the showroom as his head dipped low to my ear. “Renny just passed us to meet Felix and them. They’re through here.”

We stepped under an archway that led into a darker-lit room, but his hand stopped me beneath the nook. “Did yeh notice anything?”

Yeah. I was noticing how close we were in this archway. He saw my eyes start to squint in thought and he turned me around to face the room we’d just left.

“Look closer.”

My eyes roamed the crowd, trying to find some sort of person, or pattern he could be referring to. With a brief seize of my heart, I expected to see somebody from the gang.

“Look at the artwork, Y/N.” His breath warmed my skin.

The paintings all seemed to be bright, though sticking to red, orange, blacks, and grays. Wait, forget a pallette pattern. The next painting had blue and purple, too. One sculpture looked like a writhing ghost, twisting and reaching for something above. Or maybe it was an unearthed tree root. Despite all the bold colors, there was something off-putting about how bright they all were. It wasn’t a soothing brightness. It was almost violent. The orange and red writhing tapestries warped the ceiling into something hot.

“Is it hell?” I chortled, but quickly quieted. I expected him to take offense, but his hand went lightly around my waist with a small smile.

“Could be. See-” his arm extended out to scan the perimeter “-all this art is supposed to represent death, but challenge the notion of it through color.”

“How so?”

“Yeh know it’s usually your blacks, and your grays, s’depressing shit. But we’re born from death. Before life, there was nothing, but something. It’s bold and necessary and there, and no one really knows whatever comes before. Or after.” He looked at the room, taking a sip of wine. I watched as he swallowed, and I imagined the wine running down. “What is death but an uncertain existence.” He said the thought almost happily, looking at me with a slight smirk. “Could be anythin’.”

He took a deep breath, letting his hand touch the top of the archway. It was then that I noticed it wasn’t just plain drywall. A collage of photographs ran all along the inside.

He wasn’t as tall as Harry, but his hand still reached the top, scuffing across a picture of an African landscape taped over a toddler eating fruity pebbles.

“They’re pictures. Everyone donated one,” he said.

A strand of words were painted over the collage, running from one end of the archway to the other, and I tilted my head back to read it. “Things... that…. make... m..e …...feel alive.”

“Everyone was able to design their space in order to control, to some extent, how their art was perceived. Everyone was a part of the transition space.”

“Very nice,” I noted, slightly put-off. I hadn’t been expecting this art show to be so… professional. “Zayn, this is amazing. Like, really, truly, professional-grade stuff is happening. The presentation, the pieces, everything.”

His smile grew wider, putting cool hands over my eyes. I flinched, but let him.

I felt him come closer.

“Listen now,” he urged.

I listened, but I wasn’t sure for what. There was the familiar busy rumble of people mingling, parents visiting their kids, and professors droning on about the talent of their students. But it was chatter. I couldn’t make out one conversation over another. I shrugged up against his other hand that was atop my shoulder.

“Sometimes you need to change where you’re planted to understand.”

I hoped he could see my cross expression because I couldn’t tell if he was bullshitting me right now. It’d been a day. It’d been a night. And I wasn’t in the mood for more philosophical ramblings - especially about death. “I don’t know what you mean,” I sighed.

“Meaning I have to move you closer to the speakers.” He let out a breathy laugh. “Jus’ keep your eyes closed, okay?”

I nodded. His hand moved, tilting my head to its side. Eyes still closed, I became self-conscious imagining people trying to move past me, and here I was, planted, eyes closed in the middle of the archway. My cheeks heated. It was unnerving knowing people could see me when I couldn’t see them. And anyway, I must’ve looked ridiculous.

“What do you hear?” he urged.

“I hear a lot of people talking,” I griped.

But right when I was about to open my eyes-

I heard a familiar chirping through the chatter.

“Birds?” I opened my eyes.

“Observance can be taught, sometimes.” Zayn leant back, looking mighty proud of himself.

“Why are there birds?”

“We’re entering life,” he smiled, backing into the space. I tipped my wine back, several long gulps lightening my step as I followed him. Immediately, I noticed much more natural, earthier tones. For being a room of life, it was surprisingly darker than the prior room.

Renny, Felix, and Andre were huddled in the center where a makeshift wall-on-wheels covered in vines divided the room in half.

My eyes widened, trying to adjust to the dimness. “It’s a lot darker in here.”

“All intentional. They decided to play with light in here. People usually think of life being bright ‘n that, but it’s also when we experience varying degrees of darkness. There’s a balance to things and the trouble is finding it.” Understanding laced his voice as his dark eyes bore into mine, almost completely black. One look from Zayn and I was reminded of all the weight I’d been carrying. I fidgeted, uncomfortable seeing myself in his eyes.

“Y/N, get over here!” Renny called. My shoulders visibly relaxed. My saving grace. “You didn’t tell me you did this,” she said lowly as soon as I got close enough, shocked excitement barely contained. Her giddy smile gave it away though. “Miss sexy secret keeper over here.”

“What do you mean?”

She playfully poked my sides, but Andre and Felix avoided my gaze. Something wasn’t right. And it stirred my stomach, my body already knowing, somehow.

I turned in slow motion, the charcoal drawings in my peripherals stopping me in place. Framed amidst the vines, my face was etched onto paper, scrunching and twisting in various expressions. But my body was attached and twisting, too. And it was bare, bent over, spread out, laying down… My eyes scanned over them a dozen times in a second.

I was naked.

In all of them.

One was titled “21st Century Love.” In this one, I faced the viewer, but looked past them, sorrowful eyes, brows furrowed, breasts I’d never shown on full display. A hickey or two on my neck. A painful sting gripped my chest. I looked sad. I looked so sad.

Tunnel vision, a blurred Renny rushed down to the floor, and a distant part of me registered something wet splatter on my feet.

The wine had dropped.

I’d dropped it.

I was trapped in a shell. My body was numb.

“Babes, you okay?” Renny asked, her voice somewhere far away. Somewhere outside the shell, her voice drowned in the busy rumbling, with the birds, with the watchers. People were watching me now. I was being watched. “Felix, grab some towels!” she barked.

I looked horrified, towards Zayn, but changed my mind just as fast. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t even breathe.

He didn’t know me at all. He could stare at me for a thousand sessions and paint every crevice, sunspot, blemish, and mole and still not see me. How was an artist this blind? How could he not know that this was the last thing I could ever want? How could he picture me so… intimately?

The paintings seemed to swirl into one before bouncing back out into their separate exposees.

Because that’s what it was.

An exposure.

A stranger could pay to have me in their home.

The floor spun, vision spotting.

My lungs tightened, tearing me away from Renny, from Felix, from Andre. From Zayn, the artist who painted a confused girl so unashamed. So honestly. Savagely and Unabashedly.

“I didn’t want this.”

And it was when I was halfway out the door that I realized the voice had come from me, a mantra pushing my shell all the way home.

part 22

237 notes · View notes

magicsmutshop · 5 years

Text

When You See My Base Line - Pt 1

part 1 of 4

Pairing: Jung Hoseok/Reader Genre: Multi-chapter smut Rating: Explicit Word count: ~2500 Warnings: Alcohol, swearing, drooling over Hoseok’s perfect face and body Summary: You need a hobby, so you take a figure drawing class. Hoseok is the nude model. Note: this is my first fic so please take good care of me! Navigation: part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Who is that man talking to Namjoon by the desk? You’ve never seen him before, but as you look him up and down, you definitely like what you see. Dark, wavy hair with blond streaks flops over his finely-drawn eyebrows. The man’s eyes appealingly crinkle as he beamed at your art teacher, showing off a wide, heart-shaped grin. He looks a bit short standing next to Namjoon--but who doesn’t, next to that tree of a man? More importantly, his loose hoodie and baggy yellow shorts reveal swathes of honey skin and lean muscle. He has the look of a dancer, slender but powerful. Your eyes catch on his exposed thighs (those shorts were really rather short, weren’t they?). Damn, those are truly something to behold. You’d never considered yourself a leg woman before, but those yellow shorts are changing your outlook.

As you drag your appreciative gaze back up his body and face (was that a freckle on his top lip?), you realize Yellow Shorts is looking right back at you. You get lost in his dark brown eyes for a moment until it dawns on you that you’ve just been busted checking this gorgeous man out. His smile grows impossibly wider as your cheeks grow hot. Damn your easy blushes.

You quickly break eye contact, busying yourself with digging through your leather satchel, pretending to look for your pencils. Your hands are actually trembling a bit, and you can feel your heart pounding. How can a 5-second eye lock have such an effect on you? Yellow Shorts is still talking to Namjoon, but every time you accidentally look in their direction (who are you kidding? Your stare is drawn to him like you're magnetized), you can feel the weight of his gaze on you.

Suddenly, Namjoon breaks the tension by clapping his hands together, drawing the attention of everyone sitting at their easels. You turn your attention towards your teacher, but out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Yellow Shorts slipping away towards the screen in the corner of the studio. Is he the model for tonight? You could only be so lucky.

“Hey guys, welcome to week three! Glad you could all make it out on this rainy evening.” Namjoon addresses the class, a dimple appearing in his right cheek as he smiles. “By now, you’re all pretty familiar with the drill, right? We’ll start off with 5 minutes of quick warm-up sketches, and then move into some 10-minute poses. 15 minute coffee break at the hour mark, and then we’ll do a 45-minute pose. Sound good?” He nudges his black-rimmed glasses up his nose as your classmates murmur their agreement.

As you pull your sketchbook out of your bag, you think back to how you’d ended up in this studio in the first place.

---

You’d just ended an 18-month long relationship a few months prior. It was a reasonably amicable breakup--no cheating or dramatics. You had just… fallen out of love. In fact, you weren’t sure if you were ever actually in love. Your relationship had quickly fizzled out of the honeymoon stage, so towards the end, you were in a rut of watching bad tv together on the couch nightly, your ex playing Overwatch on his laptop while you browsed Twitter on your phone. Your sex life wasn’t any more interesting--you hadn’t even “Overwatch and chilled” in quite a while. One night, you looked over at him and realized you had no desire to do this for the next 40 years, and told him it was over. He shrugged, barely looking up from his game.

However, no matter how boring it had been towards the end, it had been comfortable companionship, so your apartment now seemed empty at night. Even the stereotypical post-breakup gym routine couldn’t fill the hours, although you had never looked better. You thought about getting back into the dating game, but the selection of men on the apps was, to put it lightly, terrible.

One night, you were out at a bar with your best friend getting wine-drunk and complaining about your boredom. Ashley took a long sip of her drink before looking at you over her glass. “You know what you need? You need a hobby. And no, Twitter and Tinder don’t count.”

“Twitter is a perfectly valid hobby. I’m keeping up on the latest political news and memes! Plus did you see the latest posts from Mark Ruffalo? That guy is a genius.” You drained the last of your glass and looked around for the server. You needed another drink.

Ashley scoffed. “You’re not even keeping up with politics. You’re getting into flamewars with people over the latest episode of the Bachelorette.” Damn. Your best friend knew you too well. She turned her head and effortlessly flagged the server over while checking her watch. Twenty minutes left for happy hour specials. “Hi, can we get two more glasses of the rosé please?”

You resisted the urge to check your Twitter account and incur more of Ashley’s scorn. “What do you suggest, then?”

“My coworker, you know the one that had the breakdown after she walked in on her husband fucking the babysitter?” Ashley paused as the server dropped off the fresh drinks. You nodded--that was a juicy story you wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon. “Anyway, she started taking art classes at the rec center. She does everything from pottery to watercolors. Apparently, her psychologist recommended it, but she loves it. She never stops talking about how healing it’s been.”

You wrinkled your nose. “The rec center? I thought those classes were for kids and senior citizens.”

“She did mention there are a lot of old people in her classes. But get this--the drawing teacher was this really hot Korean guy. With dimples.” Ashley gave you a meaningful look. She really did know you too well.

“Ehh… art class? I don’t know if that’s really my thing. I haven’t touched a sketchbook in years.” You had actually been a decent artist in high school, but had dropped it in college as you got wrapped up in your classes and parties. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you’d done anything artistic, outside of mandatory bridesmaid crafting duties for bridal showers and bachelorette parties.

“Hot. Korean. Guy. With. Dimples.” Wine splashed out of Ashley’s glass as she jabbed your finger at you for emphasis. “Plus, getting some culture could be healing for you. It worked for Jessica. You really need to get out of the apartment more.”

You gently grabbed Ashley’s glass, rescuing the wine from her flailing and promptly. pouring it down your throat. “I’ll think about it.” You weren’t going to think about it. There was no way you were going to take an art class with a bunch of senior citizens, even with the lure of a hot instructor.

Two drinks later for each of you, Ashley was squinting at your credit card, trying to type the numbers into the rec center’s shitty website on her phone. “Boom, you’re signed up. Class starts Monday so you’d better get your supplies this weekend.”

In your rosé-induced haze, what you hadn’t realized is that Ashley had signed you up for a figure drawing class. You were in for a double shock when you walked into the rec center 10 minutes late that first Monday night. The first shock, that the teacher, Namjoon, really was that hot (with fantastic dimples)--and the second shock, that there was a nude middle-aged man posing on a couch on a small stage.

Much to your surprise (and Ashley’s smugness), the figure drawing class really was enjoyable. Namjoon was a great teacher--patient and encouraging--and you’d forgotten how good it felt to create something rather than just passively consuming media. You’d even gotten used to the nudity as you focused on capturing the model in efficient pencil strokes in your sketchbook. Your first few figure sketches were horribly amateur, but you soon got caught up in the art, and the first two classes had flown by. The second week’s model had been a young college-aged woman with the most amazing tiger tattoo covering her back, which had been a lot of fun to draw. You had been looking forward to what week three would bring, but you had no idea what was really in store for you.

---

As you finish setting out your pencils and erasers, you notice motion from the corner of the room again. The hot guy from earlier emerges from behind the screen… and he's no longer wearing the shorts, but is wrapped in a knee-length gray robe. Oh holy shit, he really is the model for the night. One of your pencils goes flying out of your suddenly-clammy grip and clatters across the floor, rolling to a stop in front of Yellow Shorts. Your face bursts into flames again.

His face scrunches up into a warm smile. “Oops! You might need this.” He bends over (don’t look at his ass, don’t look at his ass), scoops the pencil up, and saunters over to your desk. The pencil appears in your line of vision where you're staring fixedly down at your sketchbook. Slowly, you look up and meet his twinkling eyes. His smile doesn’t dim as you stare blankly up at him and the little dimples in his cheeks, but he waves the pencil in front of you again. Your attention caught by his hands, you suddenly notice how long and elegant his fingers are. He wears a silver ring on his middle finger, and a delicate chain on his wrist.

As if in a dream, you finally take the pencil from him. Your hand brushes his. His fingers are warm and dry, but you feel your breath catch at the light touch. He drags a fingertip across your palm as he lets go of the pencil. Your eyes snap up to his, which look decidedly darker. But his light tone of voice doesn’t match his eyes as he simply says, “Here you go! Please use it to draw me well!” He turns away to join Namjoon in front of the stage.

Namjoon chuckles quietly. “Everyone, this is Hoseok, our model for tonight. Some of you might know him already. He’s the dance teacher here at the rec center, but moonlights as an art model in his free time.” A dancer, of course. That explains the muscle. Your blush still hasn’t gone down and your palm is still tingling as you try not to stare at his toned legs. Namjoon turns to Hoseok and claps him on the shoulder. “We’ll start with the 5-minute warmup first, so just change your pose every time you hear the timer beep.”

Yellow Shorts--Hoseok--nods cheerfully. “Aye aye, boss!” He steps up on the stage and unceremoniously shrugs out of his robe, laying it to one side and sitting down on the chaise lounge. All of the blood that had previously been in your cheeks is now rushing down to lower parts as you’re treated to an uninterrupted view of his sinuous body. He’s perfect. His collarbones catch the light as he turns his face to the side, revealing a sharp profile. His biceps flex lightly as he lowers himself down on one elbow, accentuating the line from his elegant shoulders to his narrow waist. A very defined v-line draws your eyes from his lean abs to his relaxed cock resting on one of his gorgeous thighs. You subtly squeeze your legs together under your desk at the sight. Shit, even his dick is perfect. You genuinely think your heart might stop--but what a way to go.

Suddenly, your lustful reverie is broken by the sound of the timer going off, indicating that a minute in the quick sketch period had gone by and it’s time for Hoseok to switch poses. You haven’t drawn a single line in your sketchbook yet. You’re fucked.

read part 2

#bts smut #jhope smut #hoseok smut #hoseok/reader #j-hope smut #hobi smut #hoseok x reader #j-hope x reader

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timehealsfanfictionbka · 5 years

Text

Time Heals.....Chapter Seven

Robyn didn’t know what to say as she stared at Chris’s gift. In such short time, he reminded her of why they had become friends in the first place and it irritated her just as much as it elated her. Watching Tiana’s face as she walked up behind Chris during their earlier FaceTime call made her feel disrespected even though the woman didn't say anything to her. The glare in her eye, that she tried to cover up, reminded her of Chris’s first girlfriend. Sherry tried everything in her power to get her and Chris to stop being friends but it never worked. Chris was never disrespectful or even crossed the line while in a relationship but for some reason that was never enough.

Chris could remember only one time before that he ever felt this nervous. He watched as Robyn stared at the gift, unable to read her expression, he felt his hands start to sweat. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking about and that scared him. He was trying so hard to make up for his carelessness and inconsiderate handling of their past but he knew it would take more than this to right that wrong. A wrong that only few people knew about that he still had to atone for.

“You don’t like it,” he said softly.

Robyn jumped as if breaking out of a trance, “No, it’s beautiful. I just can't believe you did this for them.”

“For y’all. You’re in the picture too.”

“Well duh but this is just- wow.”

“I can drop it off when I come pick up the twins tomorrow.’

“Chris, about that.”

“Come on Robs, don’t do that.”

“Chris, I know you aren’t this clueless to think this isn’t gonna cause a problem with your wife.”

“Tiana is-”

Robyn held up her hand, stopping him mid-sentence, “Don’t you dare say she’s fine. You might not have caught the hint but I saw her face when you were talking about it. It’s not that big of a deal to cause an issue in your marriage.”

“Robyn, she’s gonna have to get used to you and the girls being around. You’re my friend.”

“And I’d like to remain that but not at the expense of causing an issue.”

“Robyn.”

“Chris, I know what you’re trying to do and I want you to stop it. I’m over it, just let it go.”

“You know I can’t not until we talk about it.”

“Christopher.”

“Fine. I’ll drop it for now.”

“Thank you. And thank you for the picture. It really is beautiful.”

“You’re welcome.”

“How did you even find time to do this?”

“You know I draw a lot when I’m bored or just can’t relax. One day, I was just at home and I started sketching and it eventually became this.”

“This took longer than just a day.”

“More like two weekends since I gotta work or whatever. It’s been a while since I took on an art project.”

“I really wish the girls were up to see this but they were exhausted after school today.”

“It’s cool. I think it’d be cooler for them to see in person anyway.”

Robyn went to speak when she noticed Tiana walking up behind Chris, “Alright VA, I’ma let you go.”

“Are you gonna let me babysit?”

“I think there’s someone else you need to talk to about that first but I will stop by with them so you can see them and pick up the picture, ok?”

Chris sighed, “I guess.”

“Next time, I promise.”

“I’ma hold you to that. Bye Bajan Girl.”

“Talk to you later.”

They hung up.

Chris set the framed picture down beside his desk and turned around, “I figured you had walked in.”

Tiana raised her brow as she came and sat down on the edge of the desk, “how’d you figure that?”

“Only explanation why she was ready to hang up. Robyn seems to think you have an issue with her.”

“I don’t know her to have an issue with her.”

“So the issue is with me?”

Tiana shrugged, “you’ve changed since we’ve been here and I don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve found out more than I have ever known about you in the last few weeks than the last eight years of our marriage.”

“What? The only thing new to you is Robyn.”

“Exactly. You have never mentioned her in the last eight years, we come back to Houston and I can’t stop hearing about her. I never knew she was so close to your family or that you were so close to hers. This is information, as your wife, I should’ve known already.”

“If Robyn was an ex or something, I’d get your point but she’s just my friend.”

“Your best friend. Since the 4th grade. That’s a significant person in your life.”

“Tiana-”

“No. Also why haven’t you spoken to her in eight years?”

“It’s a long, very complicated story.”

“And?”

“And it’s personal to her. It’s not my place to say.”

“Chris, what is going on here?”

“I’m just trying to live my life. Getting discharged was a huge shock and blow to me. Now I have to re-evaluate everything not only I had planned but we had planned. I never anticipated being back here and I’m sure you feel the same way.”

“Chris, I know but I feel like I’m meeting a different person. All this time, I’m thinking you just had this, I don’t know, normal life to come back here and realize there’s some many other people involved with you that I never knew about. You didn’t think I would want to know about your childhood friends, especially one whose mother you call mom?”

“Since we fell out before I left, I didn’t think it was relevant. I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you, it was really something I was trying to avoid thinking about. Things ended horribly and it’s just- it was easier to forget about it.”

“Baby, honestly, I’m uncomfortable with how close you two are.”

“Tiana.”

“Chris, this has nothing to do with insecurity or anything. I’m just not used to seeing you like this and it’s just crazy to me.”

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable but-”

“Chris, I’m not asking you to stop being friends with her. I just- I don't know.”

“Tiana, I’m not sure what you want me to do. I’ve known her most of my life so we’ve developed a certain level of comfort that I’m not sure I can just turn off.”

“I know. I just feel left out, you know.”

“Baby, there’s no reason for that. You’re always welcome to come around and I’ve told you that.”

“It’s just awkward because I don’t really know her.”

“You can get to know her. Look, how about I set up a dinner for all three of us?”

“Chris.”

“I want my wife and my best friend to be cool. I swear it will be fine.”

“Ok, Chris.”

“Thank you.”

Chris leaned forward and pecked her lips, “you know how much I love you right?”

“Yea. I love you too.”

~~~~~~

“You ok?”

Robyn looked up from mixing the food on her plate to Joyce’s smiling face. Robyn gave her a half-smile as she nodded her head, “I’m good.”

“Now Robyn, I’ve known you for a long time, don’t lie to me. What’s going on?”

“Chris invited me out to dinner.”

“Ok.”

“With his wife.”

Joyce’s brow raised slightly, “ok. What’s the problem?”

“The fact you raised your brow means you know the problem.”

“Robyn.”

“I really don’t need nor want to be in the middle of whatever they got going on. It’s awkward enough as it is.”

“Maybe he’s trying to make it not awkward.”

“Still not seeing how that would be a good idea.”

“Robyn, he wants to be friends again. His wife is a normal obstacle that you have to work through. She’s not temporary like his ex-girlfriends.”

“I’m not understanding what any of that has to do with me. I don’t monopolize his time.”

“In fact, you avoid spending as much time with him as possible.”

“What? How’d-”

“I know you, Robyn and there’s something you are protecting.”

Robyn scoffed to herself, this woman had no idea how right she was.

“Mama J, all I’ve ever done is protect. From Chris when we were younger to my family, you and my kids. I don’t think this is a good idea and I don’t see what good could come from it.”

“You could gain a new friend.”

“I don’t need a new friend. I barely feel like dealing with my old friends.”

Joyce laughed as she reached over and squeezed Robyn’s hand, “I know there’s some things that may have happened to you in the past that you may still unconsciously be holding onto but trust me, Angel, time really does heal all wounds.”

“Mama J, I really wished I could believe that.”

~~~~~~

Robyn ran her hand down the front of the black shirt dress. She couldn’t believe she let Mama J talk her into attending this godforsaken dinner. She knew the only reason why Chris was doing this was because Tiana had an issue with them being friends again. Honestly, she’d think it’d just be easier for them to stop being friends altogether instead of having to go through all of this.

She pulled on a pair of black knee high boots then pulled her hair into a messy bun on the top of her head. She promised Mama J she would have an open mind so that’s what she was gonna do. Throwing her keys and phone into her small black purse, she headed outside to her car. Just as she opened the driver side door, she saw headlights flash as a black Mercedes pulled in beside her car. Her furrowed brow relaxed when the driver window opened. It was Chris and Tiana.

Chris smiled and waved, “hey Bajan Girl.”

“Hey. What are you doing here? I thought I was meeting you at the restaurant.”

“We were on the way and I kinda realized-”

“You don’t know how to get to the restaurant,” Robyn interjected. She laughed, “you can follow me. It’s like 15 minutes from here.”

“Cool. After you.”

Chris rolled up his window as Robyn climbed into her car. A few moments later, she pulled out of her driveway then Chris followed suit.

#chrianna #timehealsfanfiction

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vicbartons · 7 years

Text

and now i´m picking up the pieces (of my broken heart), pt. 2 (liv)

ao3 link

previous: pt.1 (robert)

summary: months after the breakup, robert, liv and aaron try to pick up the pieces.

It was only 6 am when Liv woke up.

Her eyes were still tired and she certainly wasn´t ready to climb out of bed and leave the warm comfort of her duvet just yet, but the Christmas excitement must have gotten to her anyway. She was never up this early, not even if she had school not to look forward to.

Liv had never cared much about Christmas. It had always just been yet another day of the year that made her miss people she could barely remember and long for a family she´d never really had to begin with. Though that lack of knowledge didn´t stop the pang of jealousy she felt whenever her mates from school talked about all their elaborate Christmas family traditions, or when they left to see the extended family in cars packed to the brim with presents and food.

It also didn´t make caring for her mum easier, who always took the holidays especially hard. Liv had learned the hard way to count Christmas mornings that Sandra spent with her at the kitchen table, her eyes unfocused her mind lulled into apathy by sleeping pills, as good ones.

That was until she had come to live with her brother.

Suddenly, she had gotten to wake up to a big cup of hot chocolate with a bit of whipped cream on top, courtesy of Chas, and a Christmas tree littered with mismatched ornaments. The air had been filled with the smell of home-cooked meals and the voices of the whirlwind of Dingles she was surrounded by, singing along to Adele out of key. She had gotten to fall asleep with her head on Belle´s lap and Alfie curled around her feet on the sofa in Wishing Well Cottage. Cheeks rosy and a bright smile on her face the next morning, when Robert and Aaron had picked her up and they had spent their walk back to the Woolpack in the cold winter air with an impromptu snowball fight that ended with her and Aaron throwing snowballs into Robert´s then already wet mob of blond hair.

Last year, Christmas had started to feel like family. Like home.

Problem was that Liv knew full-well that this year wouldn´t be the same. One glorious family Christmas seemed to be all she was going to get.

She wanted to be excited for the day ahead. For helping Marlon prepare an actual turkey, for the singing and the boardgames, for a tiny sip of the Dingle´s famous Snowball – a privilege she had won in a bet against Charity – and the ridiculous paper hats that everyone but Cain would be goaded into wearing.

But instead, she was curled up under her duvet, staring at the date on her alarm clock and couldn´t get the number 7 out of her head.

The 25th of December.

7 months to the day since Robert had walked out of the Mill for good. They had barely moved in, before he was gone.

She didn´t really like to think about him these days.

If there was one thing life had taught Liv so far, it was that there was no point in dwelling on things that were in the past. Especially not if those things were people that you had let into your life and trusted not to betray you, only for them to do exactly the opposite. People you´d thought were yours for good. Family.

She had come to realise that adults had a way of betraying that trust. Of ruining things.

Every now and then though,thoughts of the lanky blond she had considered her brother would enter her mind. It was hard to keep him out, even now that he´d been gone so long - 7 months still felt like an eternity, when you weren´t even 16 yet - because there were reminders of him everywhere.

The entire Mill was practically a memento to Robert flipping Sugden.

At least for Liv it was. Because every drop of paint on the walls and every piece of furniture in their house was something she could tie back to him. To the time when it was just the two of them, while Aaron was in prison.

Like the blue on their living room walls that they had painted together, or the shelf in her bedroom that was still a little wonky, because Robert had thought himself too clever for the instruction manuals that came with the IKEA flat-pack, which had led to the construction missing a few screws that had turned out to be far more important than her brother´s idiot husband had given them credit for.

(Liv had tried her best to fix it, but there was only so much she could do once the instructions and a few vital pieces had been angrily thrown into the bin, never to be found again under the remnants of the Chinese take-out they had shared the night before.)

Propped up on her CD-Player, there was the Little Mix CD Aaron and Robert had bought her as a belated birthday present.

Sitting on her desk, there was the painting set filled with fancy pencils in all the colours of the rainbow, that Robert had randomly brought home for her one evening, after he had sneaked a peek at one of her sketch books the day before, which she still used for all of her art projects.

And then there was Aaron.

The missing spark in his eyes and the way he´d laughed even less over the past few months than her grumpy, bighearted mess of a big brother usually did, was the most constant reminder of them all.

The most painful one as well.

Once Robert had been gone for good – after hours of pestering, Victoria had told her that he had left for London – it seemed like someone had drained every last bit of happiness out of Aaron and only left a shell of the man she was used to. The big brother she loved more than anything suddenly reduced to red eyes and sweater paws 24/7, only leaving the house for a few hours every day to hide in the portacabin at the scrapyard and snarl at anyone who dared to speak to him, if Adam´s accounts were anything to go by.

Liv growled and dragged herself out of bed, shaking her head in the hopes of getting rid of all the memories that way. It really wasn´t worth thinking about. Sure, she could admit to herself that she still missed Robert, even after everything he´d done, but that wouldn´t change anything.

After having made her way to the bathroom to splash a bit of cold water in her face, she stumbled down the spiral staircase, tip-toeing down the freezing cold metal steps quicker than was safe, chastising herself for not putting on the cuddly warm pair of wool socks that Lauren had knitted for her as an early Christmas present.

Once she´d made it to the kitchen, she opened up a cupboard, the one that still held Robert´s fancy cereal that Aaron had never bothered to get rid off, and pulled out the box she had hid behind it. It was a perfect hiding space, because she knew that Aaron wouldn´t open that cupboard for the life of him. Just like he would quickly change the channel whenever a Marvel movie came on and throw out the part of the morning newspaper that held the crossword puzzle, before he took the rest of it to work with him.

Aaron had gotten good at trying to rid his life of things that reminded him of Robert.

Liv put the box down on the kitchen table and pulled out the two wrapped presents and the blue Christmas sweater she had bought for Aaron. She had picked up a matching red one for herself that was currently thrown over the chair in her bedroom. The Christmas tree on its front that was lit up by LED ornaments giving the piece of clothing just the right balance between cute and ridiculous. It had been too good an opportunity to pass on, especially since dragging the ones Paddy had gotten the three of them the past year out from the bottom of their closet wasn´t an option.

Liv had gotten good at finding little things to make Aaron smile.

Presents and the sweater were number one and two on that agenda. A proper breakfast for her brother was number three.

She opened another cupboard and tried to decide between tea and coffee. They would have to be at the Woolpack by nine which meant that Aaron could definitely use the caffeine, but just like her, her brother was more of a tea person when it really came down to it.

“Oh well,” she thought, “it´s Christmas. Might as well go for both.”

Liv had never understood why life always forced you to pick sides. Tea or coffee. Cats or Dogs. Boys or girls. Gabby or Jacob. Mum or Dad. She had never understood the concept. Couldn´t understand why you always had to pick just one. Why she was always the one who had to lose something. Lose someone.

What she hated most about it, was how life usually had a way of chosing for you.

There was one choice though that Liv never had expected to be as hard as it turned out to be. Frankly, it was one she never thought she´d have to make at all.

Aaron or Robert. Robert or Aaron.

Of course, like always, life had already made that decision for her in a way. Aaron was her brother. Her actual - ”We have the DNA to prove it“ - brother. Which is why the topic had never even come up, once everything had gone to shit.

Because obviously, Liv was going to be on Aaron´s side in all of this. Liv had never even liked Robert to begin with, right? She was probably glad to be rid of his ratface. That´s what people had thought. Chas and Charity and Gabby and especially Aaron. Well, to the extent that Aaron had been able to think about anything other than Robert in those first few weeks that Liv had spent back in the Woolpack, with Aaron unable to keep his own life in order, let alone care for a grumpy 15-year old.

And for the first few days, anger filling every cell of her body, Aaron´s side was exactly where she had wanted to be. She wanted to hate Robert and kick his arse from here to Manchester and back. Punch him in the face for every time he had promised her that they would stick together and be a proper little family. Scream at him until her lungs gave out.

But to her own surprise, that hadn´t lasted long.

While everyone else was still angry and disappointed and cursing Robert to the pits of hell, Liv couldn´t help but think of Robert sleeping on the sofa in the Woolpack under the purple butterfly duvet, when she had stumbled into the kitchen in the middle of the night. Of how broken and sad and tired he´d looked in those weeks Aaron had spent in prison, when he thought she wasn´t looking. Of how he had taken care of her and Noah, how we´d handled the mess she had gotten herself into at school. Of how safe and protected she´d felt when she was crying on his shoulder.

Suddenly, hating Robert Sugden hadn´t been so easy anymore.

If only this had been another fight she could have fixed by locking the two of them in a room with beer and curry.

But it wasn´t. And it didn´t matter that Robert looked like death the few times she saw him scuffle to David´s and that Aaron hadn´t left his bed for a week. It didn´t matter that Liv once again felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under her feet, when she had just started to feel grounded and at home. Maybe for the first time in her life, really.

This had been too big of a fight for her to fix.

So she had resigned herself to trying to get Aaron out of bed or off the sofa and making sure Robert was at least still somewhat functioning by checking in on him through the odd text under the pretence of having difficulties with a math problem, or needing his opinion on a specific superhero to win a barney with a boy from school, who was being a pretentious dick.

She put the kettle on then and got a pan out of the cupboard to fry some bacon.

By the time she heard the door of Aaron´s bedroom open and shut and his feet trampling down the stairs, the table was set for two, a few slices of bacon were sizzling in the pan and next to the small pile of presents in front of Aaron´s plate she had placed a bread basket with thick white toast, just the way her brother liked it.

"Mornin´." Aaron´s voice was still a bit raspy as he stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Morning, sleepyhead." Liv smiled at him,“Merry Christmas."

"Ta... What are ya doing up already?" he asked as he leant against the kitchen counter, his face grumpy as usual. But just average grumpy, not looking like death the way he did when he was having a bad day, missing a certain someone, Liv noted. "I thought I´d do the whole parenting thing right and make you a proper breakfast."

"Beat you to it, didn´t I?" she pointed out, raising her eyebrows and nodding towards the kitchen table. She was trying her hardest to pass at least some of her childish Christmas excitement onto her big brother.

That earned her a small grin off of Aaron. "Look´s like it. Thanks"

“Well, don´t get used to it or anything,” she quipped.

Aaron gave her a proper bright smile then and pulled her into a tight hug. “Wouldn´t dream of it.” His arms wrapped around her waist and his chin rested on her head the way it always did. It was something Liv was quite sure she´d never grow tired of.

"Merry Christmas, Liv." he whispered against the top of her head, his nose buried in her messy blonde hair.

Liv wrapped her arms tightly around his middle at that and pressed her head into the crook of his shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Aaron.”

Liv couldn´t bring Robert back. Couldn´t close the gaping hole he´d managed to leave in both of their lives. But she could make damn sure that here brother would spend today feeling loved instead of lonely.

And if she sent a quick text to a certain lanky blond in London that night, wishing him a merry Christmas and telling him she´d almost missed his annoying face around the dinner table, no one had to be the wiser.

#liv flaherty #aaron x robert #sometimes i write stuff #someone on ao3 asked me to make the original drabble into a multi-chapter thing #and i liked the idea of seeing how liv and aaron would deal with a longer break-up #so here you go #it´s very weird to write about christmas when you´ve spent the past few days in 20+ degree weather

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funnythingshere0-blog · 6 years

Text

What inspired you to get into comedy?

New Post has been published on https://funnythingshere.xyz/what-inspired-you-to-get-into-comedy/

What inspired you to get into comedy?

The Big Ask

Watching Monty Python for the first time at a party at the neighbour’s farm. A lot of info to get in. Being funny for love as a child. Tony Law, A Lost Show, Monkey Barrel, 15:00

I started out as a singer-songwriter. Some of my songs were funny, so I tried them out at a comedy club. I loved talking and getting laughs In Between the songs so much, I decided to see if I could do it without the guitar. So, one of the biggest inspirations for my getting into comedy was not wanting to carry an instrument around all the time. Myq Kaplan, All Killing Aside, Underbelly, Bristo Square, 21:15

I did it for a bet, no idea if I’ve won yet. Nick Page, Yes, That Nick Page, Apparently, Mash House, 16:50

Ricky Gervais’s vast fortune. Stanley Brooks, AAA Stand-up at Underbelly, Underbelly Cowgate, 18:20

I worked behind the bar at the Glee Club in Cardiff for a while, and thought I’d give it a go. Seeing Tom Wrigglesworth’s Open Return Letter To Richard Branson show made me want to do more story-led shows, though. Robin Morgan, Robin Morgan: Honeymoon, The Pear Tree, 16:00

Peter Kay. Never has anyone concealed the art so well – perhaps too well, even to the detriment of his being recognised as a real genius of the form. While making it seem like he’s just a confident chatterbox, his range is as good as any comic I’ve ever seen. He can communicate ideas with laser-beam precise language and dramatisation. He does a Nan going home early at a wedding party as ‘Yoda from Star Wars’, and for me it’s like someone broadcasting to you on your exact frequency – and the picture is so clear and precise it’s as if he literally formed it in your mind for you. No one would ever say it, but he’s also fantastically self-ironising and postmodern: he delivers one-liners at the top, and then dissects their cheesiness, thoroughly aware of the expectations people have about traditional comedy. When an act can literally change the way we talk about everyday life – and I think it is possible to talk about garlic bread, or biscuit dipping in terms of pre and post-Kay – then they achieved something quite special. Moon, Moon, Pleasance Attic, 21:30

The Doug Anthony All Stars. I idolised them when I was a kid in Australia, they were pure visceral subversive comedy anarchy. I knew all their material by heart. They showed me that if you don’t sweat you haven’t done a show. Last year I was lucky enough to meet my hero Tim Ferguson from DAAS, he is a bloody legend and inspired me to keep going. Nathan Lang, The Stuntman, Just The Tonic @ The Caves, 14:45

YouTube – Spending too much time binge watching stand-up specials and interviews with comedians meant the advice of ‘just do it and keep going’ stuck in my head so I have. Even though when I started I was dire at comedy I have kept trucking along and would hope I have now made it to the rank of acceptable. Struan Logan, Struan All Over the World, Counting House: Attic, 18:05

In 1995 my father gave my mother a Best of The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band CD for her birthday. It was the first CD that we, as a family, owned. I was nine years old and the excitement was palpable. Three months later, when he gave her a CD player for Christmas, it reached fever pitch. I remember listening to it over and over again. I think the song Mr Apollo might still be the funniest thing I can think of, and I knew I wanted to do something like that. Douglas Walker, Douglas Walker Presents: Of Christmas Past, Underbelly Clover, 22:50

Margaret Cho, Chelsea Handler, Amy Schumer, Sarah Silverman, Tiffany Haddish, Natasha Leggero, Chelsea Peretti and any woman in comedy owning her voice as she conquers. Jake Howie, Read My Lips, Just the Tonic Caves, 21:30

Back in 2016 I was crowned winner of London’s “Not Another Drag Competition”. Before then I had never really performed in drag before. Every week of the competition we were set challenges, and one week we had to put together 15 minutes of material. I decided to do a stand-up routine where I performed a séance and contacted all my favourite dead celebrities, culminating with the spirit of Prince possessing a dildo, which I had to exorcise. Thoroughly. It was the first time I had tried stand-up, and it felt so natural and good, and the jokes just sort of spilled out of me. Oh – and people laughed! From that moment I was hooked. Georgia Tasda, Georgia Tasda Means Business, CC Blooms, 22:30

Jen Brister, after seeing here show many years ago and I thought if this is what comedy is I like it and I want to be friends with her! Ruth E. Cockburn, Love Letters From Blackpool, Summerhall, 14:40

Growing up, I assumed everyone could recite a two-hour Victoria Wood stand-up set or know every French and Saunders sketch, or every word of Blackadder. It’s only when I got older that I realised maybe I was a bit more into comedy than other people. I eventually got into doing stand-up because I’d moved back in with my parents for a bit and, to be honest, I just needed to get out of the house. Emmy Fyles, Live Your Best Life, Hanover Tap), 13:15

My drama teacher at school always gave me the comedy parts, saying I had great comic timing, and she really encouraged that. She t old me to watch people like French & Saunders, Carol Burnett and Lucille Ball so I could hone in on it. So Mrs Bray, along with the people she told me to watch, really inspired me to pursue comedy. Maisie Adam, Vague, Gilded Balloon 16:30

Ricardo Salami. A street performer I saw as a child who never knew he changed the course of my life forever. He since died, and I never got the chance to thank him. Hopefully he won’t mind that I took his name and carried it with me on my adventures. Mat Ricardo, Mat Ricardo vs The World, Las Vegas Room, City Cafe, 12:30

A video cassette of Eddie Izzard. And Don Ward, the owner of the Comedy Store in Mumbai, refusing to let me leave without an audition. I’d come to do an article on him opening his club in India in 2010. Anuvab Pal, Empire, Pleasance Courtyard, 19:00

My dad, the comedian Mac McDonald and one of the funniest people I know, took me and my sister around the comedy circuit with a cabaret comedy act when I was 10 years old and I never looked back. Naomi McDonald, Naomi McDonald: Stardumb, Fireside, 15:45

Josie Long and my grandma; people who pull you into a story you wouldn’t care to hear from anyone else Helen Duff, How Deep is Your Duff, The Hive, 21:00

> My late director, Frank McAnulty. I took an improv class at The Second City on a whim after seeing an online ad (they work!) and then got accepted into their conservatory. I presented a comedy song for our classes graduating sketch revue, and his excitement and investment in it (and in all of us) made me feel like I should continue with this comedy thing, even thought I still had no idea what it was. And now, many years later, that same song is in my musical comedy that I am bringing to the Edinburgh Fringe this summer. So, thank you Frank! Anesti Danelis, Songs For A New World Order, Laughing Horse @ The Hanover Tap, 12:00

The seriousness of life Juliette Burton, Butterfly Effect, Gilded Balloon, 16:15

The worrying thing is I have absolutely no idea. I did sketches in s Ian Smith, Craft, Underbelly: Buttercup, 17:15

wful clients at my last desk job, John Pendal, We Are Family, Gilded Balloon Teviot, 17:30 A

A free CD that was on the front of Loaded magazine with clips of stand up on it. I remember the routines to this day. Brett Goldstein What Is Love Baby Don’t Hurt Me, Pleasance: Beneath, 19:00

Jack Daniels and Desperation. Garrett Millerick, Sunflower, Tron, 17:00

The man who mistook me for Reg D Hunter at a gig and then wet himself when he heard my Oldham accent. If it all fails I could be a tribute act Che Burnley, Elvis Was Racist?, Bar Basis, 21:30

Dave Chappelle and the Goon Show Pierre Novellie, See Novellie, Hear Novellie, Speak Novellie, Pleasance Courtyard, 19:15

comedian came to my uni to put on a comedy writing workshop and there was an open mic night at the end of it, and from then I was hooked. I bumped into that comedian who put on the workshop in Edinburgh a few years later, and I thanked her for getting me into comedy, and she said: ‘OK, well I probably got paid for it anyway” and walked away. Cool! David McIver, David McIver Is a Nice Little Man, 14:30 A

I’ve done lots of grown up jobs. I’ve run a successful business. But I’m rubbish with authority and I’m always distracting people from their work. There’s nothing else left for me to do. Plus, I saw Suzie Ruffell’s show a couple of years ago and she made it look do-able. Sam Fraser, Stand Up, Weather Girl!, Counting House, 19:45

A combination of Mike Leigh’s mid 70s TV films and the adverts at the back of The stage And TV Today Graham Fellows, Completely out of Character, Maggie’s Chamber @ The Free Sisters, 16:30

Intellectual bravado and physical cowardice. Lee Apsey, CSI: Crime Scene Improvisation, Underbelly, Bristo Square, 15:35

I grew up watching comedians like Frank Skinner, Lee Evans, Dave Allen, Spike Milligan etc. but it never crossed my mind that I could be a comedian until I worked at Up The Creek. I owe that place everything. Rich Wilson, Still Relevant, Sneaky Pete’s, 18:15

I had years of people telling me I was funny/weird and that I should try stand-up, but I had never really been exposed to it outside of TV. I had a break up that made me finally say fuck it and I went to do it. What a cliche! It was actually a weird feeling of relief finding comedy and when I looked out at that first crowd I realised it had been in my heart all along. Matthew Highton, Insufficient Memory, Heroes at Dragonfly, 20:40

interned at a radio station during college. The breakfast DJ is a stand up comedian called Bernard O’Shea. He suggested I do comedy, I batted it off and he organised a five minute support slot. I thad two weeks to write five minutes. Most of my first set was about my nan drinking hot tub water with a straw by accident and the IRA’s love of denim. I was so nervous and the adrenaline rush was amazing. I fell in love with comedy instantly and I’ve been chasing that same rush and never came close. Alison Spittle, Worrier Princess, Gilded Balloon Teviot, Balcony, 17:15 I

I wasn’t inspired, I was cursed. A witch I think. Terrible business. I thought it was a free potato, but it turned out it belong to her. John Luke Roberts, All I Wanna Do Is [FX: GUNSHOTS] With a [FX: GUN RELOADING] and [FX: CASH REGISTER] and Perform Some Comedy!, Assembly: Studio Five, 17:30

I just wanted to be Rowan Atkinson. He got to say all the funny things but other people wrote them for him. Seemed absolutely ideal. Kieran Hodgson, Kieran Hodgson: ’75, Pleasance Beneath, 20:15

It’s so uncool but it was actually my mum who encouraged me to start stand up. I was always writing funny stories as a kid and would do anything to avoid work and have a laugh at school and in subsequent jobs later on so she suggested I give stand up a go. I thought it sounded the worst idea ever but turns out she was right. Rachel Fairburn, The Wolf at the Door, Underbelly, Dexter, 21:30

I met an open mic comic and realised people were allowed to be bad at it Jez Watts, #1 Comedy Great Fun Best Show Jez Watts, The Three Sisters, 17:15

Published: 23 Aug 2018

Source: http://www.chortle.co.uk/features/2018/08/22/41023/what_inspired_you_to_get_into_comedy%3F

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