#shawn mendes fai | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marie-swriting · 1 year

Text

Nouveau Futur - Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Résumé : Après le dernier déploiement de Natasha, tu espères que votre relation ne se détériore pas à nouveau.

Warnings : angst, fin triste, dites-moi si j'en ai loupés d'autres.

Nombre de mots : 2.4k

Version anglaise

Chanson qui m'a inspiré : It'll Be Okay par Shawn Mendes

Surexcitée, tu cours et sautes dans les bras de Natasha, la faisant lâcher son sac par la même occasion. Elle rigole avant de t’enlacer. Tu poses tes lèvres sur celles de ta petite amie tout en gardant tes bras autour de sa nuque. Tu n’avais pas senti ses lèvres pendant un mois et deux semaines. En d’autres termes, elles t’ont manqué.

Natasha était en déploiement pour une mission dont tu ignores tous les détails. De plus, vous n’avez pas pu communiquer autant que vous l’auriez voulu alors elle t’a également manqué. Pendant que vous vous embrassez passionnément, vous entendez des sifflements autour de vous.

-Allez dans une chambre, s’exclame Hangman sur un ton moqueur.

Pour simple réponse, Natasha continue à t’embrasser et fait un doigt à Jake. Il rigole et continue de marcher avec Bradley.

Quand vous vous séparez, Natasha prend ta main et récupère son sac au sol puis vous vous rendez à ta voiture. Sur le chemin, tu laisses Natasha se reposer, malgré ton envie de lui raconter tout ce qu’elle a manqué. Le sourire sur tes lèvres n’arrivent pas à partir, tellement tu es contente de la retrouver.

En arrivant, tu secoues légèrement Natasha. Une fois réveillée, vous rentrez dans votre maison en pleine rénovation. Vous l’avez achetée un mois avant qu’elle ne parte.

Vous viviez une période assez compliquée - ce n’était pas la première, mais c’était la pire - et vous avez pensé qu’acheter un bien immobilier vous permettrait de vous rapprocher. Quand vous avez eu les clés, ça a fonctionné. La joie de passer à un nouveau stade de votre relation et de créer votre propre cocon vous a donné ce petit coup de pouce dont vous aviez besoin.

Votre relation battait de l’aile, non pas parce que vous ne vous aimiez plus, bien au contraire, mais à cause d’éléments qui ne semblaient ne plus fonctionner entre vous deux, le principal étant le travail prenant de Natasha. Jugeant que c’était seulement un mauvais moment, vous avez préféré en créer un bon.

Malheureusement, Natasha n’a pas eu le temps de beaucoup rénover la maison. Vous aviez commencé la chambre ensemble, enlevant le papier peint et commençant la peinture jusqu’à son départ. Entretemps, tu as fini la pièce. Natasha n’a pas pu encore la voir.

Alors, en arrivant chez vous, tu lui fais fermer les yeux et la guide jusqu’à votre chambre commune. Quand vous y êtes, tu lui murmures à l’oreille qu’elle peut regarder. En ouvrant les yeux, un grand sourire prend place sur son visage. À première vue, il n’y a pas de défauts - même si tu sais les coins que tu as loupés - et tu as monté les différents meubles que vous aviez choisis ensemble. Tu es fière du travail que tu as fait.

-Tu as géré ! Ça rend tellement bien, complimente Natasha, épatée.

-Je suis contente que tu adores ! D’ailleurs, t’as intérêt à l’apprécier ta commode car elle était chiante à monter, informes-tu en pointant vers le meuble en question. Il y a également ces cadres que je voulais mettre aux murs, mais j’ai préféré attendre ton retour avant de faire des trous.

En expliquant, tu te diriges vers votre commode et le mur pour récupérer les quatre cadres de la même taille. Tu les disposes par terre pour qu’elle puisse voir les photos. Tu as fait plusieurs montages sur un site de photos avec des moments de vos voyages et des moments plus anodins pendant votre relation, comme des soirées au Hard Deck, à la plage ou dans vos anciens appartements respectifs. Tu lui montres où tu pensais les accrocher pendant qu’elle continue à admirer les clichés.

-J’adore ! J’avais oublié certaines des photos, s’exclame-t-elle en regardant une photo de vous deux dans un restaurant.

-C’est bien pour ça que je les ai développés. Alors, t’en penses quoi ? Je peux faire les trous ? questionnes-tu, impatiente.

-Totalement, ça rendra bien. On le fait maintenant ?

-Tu ne veux pas te reposer ? On peut très bien le faire demain. Ils peuvent attendre un jour de plus, ils ne sont plus à ça près, rigoles-tu, Natasha secoue la tête.

-J’ai assez d’énergie pour ça. Par contre, après, je me douche et on reste allongées dans le lit, quémande-t-elle en posant ses mains sur tes hanches.

-Je vais chercher la perceuse.

Tu embrasses sa joue puis tu vas dans la chambre d’ami qui est actuellement plus un débarras et récupère les outils. Avant de sortir de la pièce, tu la regardes une dernière fois avec tendresse. En achetant cette maison, vous avez décidé que cette pièce serait la chambre d’ami jusqu’au moment où vous voudriez un enfant. Vous ne savez pas vraiment quand, mais c’est définitivement dans vos plans. Vous avez une idée complète du futur que vous souhaitez ensemble.

Il vous faut à peine une dizaine de minutes avant de percer les quatre trous et d’installer les cadres. Maintenant, tu as l’impression que votre chambre est finie.

Natasha va se doucher pendant que tu vides son sac et fais tourner une machine. Quand elle a fini, vous vous allongez dans votre lit, Natasha découvrant enfin le confort de ce nouveau matelas. Enlacées l’une contre l’autre, vous discutez. Tu caresses doucement ses cheveux, la berçant dans le sommeil. Une trentaine de minutes plus tard, ses respirations régulières te font comprendre qu’elle s’est endormie. Tu la regardes avec affection pendant que sa tête est posée contre ta poitrine. Délicatement, tu te baisses pour embrasser le haut de son crâne. Inconsciemment, Natasha se colle un peu plus contre toi. Tu aimerais mettre le moment sur pause pour rester dans votre bulle toute ta vie.

Cependant, ce moment est obligé d’avoir une fin. Après un peu moins de deux semaines à avoir Natasha à tes côtés, à te réveiller avec elle, tu sens les draps frois et non la chaleur de son corps en changeant de position dans votre lit. Tu ouvres un œil et tu trouves une place vide. Quand tu es sûre qu’il n’y a personne, tu ouvres totalement les yeux et regardes le réveil de Natasha sur sa table de nuit. En voyant qu’il est sept heures, tu devines où elle est.

Il n’est pas rare qu’elle soit appelée tôt dans la matinée pour une réunion ou autre mission. Votre proximité avec TopGun est à la fois une bénédiction et une malédiction. Elle n’est pas loin de toi s’ils ont besoin d’elle et par conséquent, ils font souvent appel à Natasha. Tu ne peux t’empêcher de te sentir agacée, même si tu sais que ça ne dépend pas d’elle.

En rentrant le soir, Natasha te retrouve dans le salon, la tête dans la notice de la bibliothèque. Quand elle arrive à ta hauteur, tu tournes la tête pour l’embrasser chastement. Tu es sur le point de retourner à la construction de ton meuble quand Natasha t’offre un bouquet de fleurs, souhaitant se faire pardonner pour son absence. Tu les acceptes avec plaisir et lui promets que tu ne lui en veux pas. Tu mets les fleurs dans un vase avant de retourner au salon.

Natasha admire la pièce qui est presque terminée. Il ne reste plus que le meuble télé à monter, si on oublie celui que tu es en train de faire. Depuis le retour de Natasha, tu avances beaucoup plus vite dans les rénovations. Vous avez pu finir les peintures que tu avais commencé avant son arrivée. Rapidement, Natasha enlève ses chaussures avant de venir t’aider à monter la bibliothèque. Tu lui demandes de tenir les planches pendant que tu visses. Quand tu as fini, tu prends une autre vis alors que Natasha attire ton attention.

-J’ai eu les informations pour mon prochain déploiement.

-Oh ? t’exclames-tu en arrêtant tout mouvement.

-Je… Je vais devoir repartir dans trois semaines.

-Mais tu viens à peine de rentrer.

-Je sais, mais c’est une mission urgente, ça ne peut pas attendre, explique Natasha en pinçant ses lèvres.

-Et ça sera pendant combien de temps ? questionnes-tu en jouant avec le tournevis.

-Deux mois, informe-t-elle avant de vite ajouter : je sais que ce n’est pas l’idéal et que tu vas devoir encore faire des rénovations seule, mais promis, en rentrant j'essaierai d’avoir du repos.

-Ce n’est pas grave. C’est ton job, rassures-tu en prenant sa main.

-Je sais, mais on ne s’est pas beaucoup vues ces derniers temps.

-On a qu’à profiter à fond des trois semaines qu’on a, alors, souris-tu.

Natasha t’embrasse, rassurée de savoir que tu n’es pas énervée par sa nouvelle. Sans plus attendre, vous reprenez la construction de la bibliothèque alors que ton esprit est perdu dans tes pensées. Peu importe si tu es avec Natasha depuis deux ans, tu détestes toujours quand elle doit partir. Tu sais que ton anxiété sera à son maximum et que tu te sentiras seule. Et puis, quand elle revient, vous avez toujours besoin d’un temps d’adaptation avant de retrouver votre routine habituelle. Tu repousses ces pensées dans un coin de tête, tu dois apprécier la présence de Natasha tant qu’elle est encore là, et tu te concentres sur le meuble.

Toutefois, les semaines suivantes ne sont pas tendres avec vous. Natasha n’est pas encore partie, mais c’est tout comme. Tout doucement, vous êtes retournées dans la phase dans laquelle vous étiez avant d’acheter votre maison. Vous êtes proches sans vraiment l’être. Elle doit souvent aller à TopGun et quand elle rentre, elle n’a pas l’énergie pour faire grand chose. Le rythme de vos rénovations a également ralenti et tu sens le fossé entre vous deux se creuser un peu plus chaque jour. Tu devrais être heureuse d’avoir Natasha à tes côtés et pourtant, tu es morose. Enfin, avec Natasha, vous parlez de moins en moins, malgré vos efforts communs. C’est comme si vous êtiez en train de devenir des inconnues.

Tu détestes cette situation. Ce n’est pas la première fois que vous y êtes et tu ne sais toujours pas quoi faire. Tu as l’impression qu’à chaque fois que vous vous êtes enfin retrouvées, un élément extérieur vous renvoie à la case départ. Cet élément extérieur est souvent un déploiement. Ces périodes où Natasha n’est pas là te pèse de plus en plus, malgré toi, et ça se ressent dans votre relation. Tu passes tes journées à chercher une solution. Tu aimes Natasha. Il doit y avoir un moyen pour y remédier. Tu ignores laquelle, même si une partie de toi pense que, peut-être, cette fois, il n’y a pas de solution. Rien que cette pensée te retourne l’estomac. Tu essayes de l’oublier.

Quelques jours avant qu’elle ne parte, tu te dis que tu ne peux plus garder ces pensées pour toi. Tu dois en parler avec Natasha. Votre couple vit une période compliquée, vous devez en discuter pour arranger les choses. Vous ne pouvez pas rester planter là à ne rien faire. Par conséquent, un soir, tandis que vous êtes en train de manger, tu attires l’attention de Natasha. Elle te lance un regard interrogateur, attendant que tu prennes la parole.

-On doit parler, Nat’. Et c’est sérieux, commences-tu d’une voix douce.

-Je voulais te parler aussi.

-Alors, tu sais tout comme moi qu’on doit faire quelque chose. On ne peut pas rester dans cette situation. Et comme tu pars bientôt, on doit régler ce problème.

-Je sais, admet-elle avant de marquer un silence. Je… Je pensais que, peut-être, je pourrais demander à changer de poste.

-Quoi ?

-Ouais, comme ça, je n’aurais pas besoin de partir autant.

-Mais tu aimes voler, t’exclames-tu, surprise.

-Je t’aime plus.

-Je ne peux pas te demander ça. Nat’, tu ne peux pas abandonner à cause de moi. Tu seras malheureuse si tu le fais et je ne le supporterai pas.

-Y/N, on doit être honnête, ça ne fonctionne plus entre nous parce que je ne fais que partir, affirme Natasha en te regardant dans les yeux.

-Peut-être qu’il faut juste qu’on trouve un meilleur équilibre entre notre couple et tes déploiements. Il nous faut peut-être une meilleure routine.

-On sait toutes les deux que ce n’est pas la solution. On a essayé plusieurs fois et on a toujours fini par se retrouver dans cette situation. C’est toujours temporaire. Cette maison en est la preuve, dit-elle en montrant les alentours de ses mains. Je pensais vraiment qu’en emménageant ensemble, tout irait mieux car on aurait un chez nous et ça serait plus simple pour se voir, mais ce n’est pas le cas.

-Je ne veux pas qu’on se sépare, objectes-tu, comprenant ce qu’elle sous-entend.

-Moi non plus, mais je sais que, tout comme moi, tu y as pensé aussi. Y/N, ce n’est pas grave, rassure Natasha en posant sa main sur la tienne.

-Comment tu peux dire ça ? Je t’aime. Je ne veux pas te perdre, chuchotes-tu d’une voix tremblante.

-Je ne veux pas te perdre non plus, mais si on arrive pas à régler ça, on n’a pas d’autre choix. Si on continue, ça risque d’être pire. Ce n’est pas grave si on arrive pas à faire fonctionner notre couple, on n’a pas besoin de régler la situation.

-Et le futur que l’on a imaginé alors ? demandes-tu, les larmes aux yeux.

-Il n’est peut-être pas fait pour arriver. Y/N, tout ira bien. On s’en remettra, déclare-t-elle, sa voix se brisant à sa dernière phrase.

-Je ne veux pas m’en remettre. Je veux rester avec toi.

Suite à ta phrase, tu exploses en sanglots. Les larmes de Natasha commençant à couler sur ses joues, elle se lève et vient à côté de toi pour te prendre dans ses bras. Vous vous serrez tout en continuant à deverser votre tristesse. Vous restez dans les bras de l’autre pendant un moment. Quand vous vous séparez, Natasha pose ses mains sur tes joues et les essuie pendant que les tiennes sont sur sa taille. Elle te fait un sourire compatissant, tu n’as pas la force de le lui rendre.

-Je suis désolée, souffles-tu.

-Tu n’as pas à t’excuser.

-Si, insistes-tu, quand on s’est mises ensemble, je t’avais promis que je savais dans quoi je m’engageais. Je pensais réellement que notre amour serait plus fort que ça.

-L’amour ne suffit pas toujours, malheureusement, sanglote-t-elle. Peut-être que, quand on sera un peu plus âgée, commence-t-elle en caressant du regard ton visage, on se retrouvera et cette fois, ça marchera mieux. Ou peut-être que notre amour n'est fait que pour fonctionner dans un autre univers. Je t’aimerai toujours dans tous les cas. N’en doute jamais.

-Je t’aimerai toujours dans tous les cas également.

Vous vous regardez dans les yeux avant de vous embrasser délicatement. Dans ce dernier baiser, vous partagez tout l’amour que vous avez ainsi que votre tristesse. Pendant que vous vous perdez dans votre baiser, vous sentez tout ce que vous avez contruit et tout ce que vous avez rêvé de construire mourir doucement. Vous devez, à présent, imaginer un tout nouveau futur sans l’autre.

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

5 notes · View notes

privilegedfm · 2 years

Note

do you have any mw fcs ?

i just replied to a request of mwf so i'll leave this list of males: gavin leatherwood, keith powers, ross lynch, bad bunny, shawn mendes, aj saudin, aron piper, joseph quinn, fai khadra, joe keery , cylus sandoval, mason gooding, archie renaux !!

#mwm

1 note · View note

embracehappy · 6 years

Text

Falling. | Summercamp!Shawn AU

a/n: In honor of my last night here at summer camp, AND hitting my 1st big follower milestone: I present, a summercamp!Shawn AU!!! I’ve been a camp counselor for a creative writing camp all week long and this has been my “big project” I’ve been working on. It’s 5k and honestly was a beast to write. I hope y’all like it because I’m really proud of it. (also it’s 3am on my last night here, so if there’s some blatant gammar/spelling issues, I’m sorry I did my best) ALSO: I tried out a new style so that was exciting.

word count: 5,220

warnings: cursing!!

The italics are flashbacks and ‘thoughts’.

You lock eyes form across the field. He’s playing some stupid game with his campers. The boy campers never followed the rules, so their games always ended up being a little bit crazy.

“That’s a stupid idea.” You said to him.

His face fell slightly, but then ignited again with arrogance.

“Says you! I bet my campers’ll love it” He snipped back to you.

“OKAYYYYY, let’s just calm down for a minute, counselors. I’m sure all the campers will enjoy whatever introductory games you have planned.” Your boss said to you and him.

He shot you a look that told you, if you weren’t sitting in a pre-camp meeting right now, he would have stuck his tongue out at you, like a child.

You roll your eyes and look away. Scoffing at the memory of his stupid game. You didn’t even know who he was then. All you knew was that you didn’t like him.

When you had first arrived at camp, you overheard him making fun of the girls’ camp for being too “frilly”.

“Fuck him” you whisper to yourself.

“Dude. The girls camp is lame” You heard a voice say. It sounded like one of the boys’ counselor.

“Oh come on, they’re not that bad” You had heard another voice say.

“No dude! They’re SO… ugh…frilly!” The original voice said, sounding almost disgusted.

You stopped dead in your tracks. You were about to round the corner to go tell those exact guys that your boss needed them. But NOW, you just wanted to eavesdrop.

The original voice kept talking: “Seriously dude! Did you see that one counselor moving in! She had all those supplies! Like the glitter balls and the pink stuff!! I mean like... This is summer camp! Not a slumber party!!”

That’s when you’d had enough. “That counselor” he was talking about was you.

You violently threw your body around the corner. You cocked your eyebrow and stuck out your hip at the guys in front of you.

You let them take in your angered appearance, squaring your shoulders and folding your arms over your chest.

“OH Shit” you heard the original voice guy whisper. You were quick to direct your look to him.

He starts stumbling over his words. It sounds like he might be trying to apologize but you could tell it was only because he had gotten caught.

You refused to give him any wiggle room, standing your ground, despite the fact that he is drop dead gorgeous. His jaw must have been chiseled by Adonis himself.

You see his eyes flash at your challenge to his authority.

Then he cleared his throat, collected his composure and said, “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Well that’s a shame, because I did. So, I’m glad to know your thoughts on my camp. I’ll be sure to spread the word to the other counselors that you don’t like the girls’ camps.”

He looked stunned. Almost like he had never been stood up to before.

He took a deep breathe before replying “well it’s not my fault that the boys’ music camp is the best camp”

And with that you allowed yourself to break your stance. You leaned forward as you sarcastically laughed before snapping yourself back up to meet his eyes.

“WOW that was funny.” You rolled your eyes. “That was the worst comeback I’ve ever heard… Anyway, the boys’ counselors are needed in the boss’ offices.” You say before you flipped your hair and turned to walk away. You smirked to yourself hearing the stunned silence behind you.

You turn back to your campers, hoping none of them heard your comment about him, to explain the introductory game.

Unfortunately, you see one little girl staring up at you with wide eyes.

Her voice was so small, you almost don’t hear her say, “What did you say?”

You can feel your hands go clammy as you are quick to think up a response.

“OH! I said... ummmmm DUCK HAND! Yes! The game we are about to play is duck hands. I don’t know why! But this game’s name is duck hands!” You go on to explain the game you had originally planned to play, except changing a few small details to include ducks… to sell the lie. The last thing you need is one of your 12 year olds telling your boss that you said, “fuck him,” about another counselor, of all people.

The flames are flickering against the black of the night. As per tradition of camp, it’s the first night bonfire. You’re frantically counting your girls trying to make sure they do not run off too far, as your preparing your marshmallow stick.

You hear someone approaching you from behind and let out a deep sigh, mentally preparing to answer whatever silly question the camper behind you has. You turn to face the small person behind you with a grin on your face, doing your best to fake some happiness in your eyes.

You are worn out and cannot wait for the campers to go to bed, so you can relax. Today has been stressful.

However, you were not met with a camper. When you turn you find yourself smiling at a chest, that is a little too close for your comfort. You look up and see his face and immediately your expression drops into an angry glare.

“What the hell do you want you?” you say, mimicking the disgusted tone he had used a few days ago when talking about your camp. You turn you back on him and go back to your marshmallow

“I just came to ask you what ‘Duck Hands’ is…” He smoothly replies.

You roll your eye, even though you know he can’t see them. He is clearly trying to get under your skin, again.

“It’s the introductory game I played with the girls this morning.” You respond shortly.

“I thought you had some other game planned? Or did Ms. ‘Your Game Is Stupid My Game Is Better’ decide to switch games!?!?” He faked shock.

You spin back around and poke a finger into his chest. “For YOUR information, it was the same game that I had planned on playing. I just changed the name.”

“Well why’d you do that?” He sounded genuinely interested and dipped his head a little to get a better look at you.

You hated that. He needs to just leave you alone. But you can’t help it when your stomach flips a little. You hate that too. He may be beautiful, but he sure is an asshole.

You take in a deep breath to let him know how annoyed you were becoming. You retract your hand, letting it fall to your side as you glare at him.

“I had to change the name because I mayyyy have cursed a little in front of a camper and had to cover it up.”

His eyes go wide as he looks at you. You can see the gears in his head turning.

“Wait… what did you say? And HOW does ‘duck hands’ cover it up?” He says as he scurries to your side so he can prepare a marshmallow stick too.

“I don’t really want to tell you.” You say flatly.

“Oh come on!” He bumps you hip against yours.

You have to focus extra hard to contain the smile that you feel trying to bubble up on your face.

“Are you seriously not going to tell me all that, and then not tell me what you said?” He eggs you on, bumping hips again.

“OKAY fine!” you hush your voice, “I said ‘fuck him,’ and then to fix it, I said ‘Duck Hands.’”

His mouth drops open a little bit. “well fuck” he whispers to you. You can see the gears in his brain turning, again. He’s not very good at having a poker face, but you don’t mind. His thinking face is pretty cute.

You shake your head to get the thought out of your mind.

‘You hate him, remember, Y/N?’

“WAIT!” He suddenly says. “who were you talking about?!”

You look off the side, away from him. “There’s no way I’m fucking going to tell you. Now if you excuse me, I need to go roast this marshmallow.”

You walk away leaving him stunned and speechless, again.

“Did he really say that?” Κatie asked.

“Yes way!” You responded to your roommate.

Katie rolled over on her bed to get a better look at your face.

“I don’t believe you.” You heard her say.

“Well, sorry to break it to you, but Sam, er Shane, or whatever he said his name was, definitely said that. And then had the fucking audacity to be a dick about it.” You said back to her.

You heard her shuffle in her bed and she goes quiet. You make a mental note not to curse around your roommate. She’s younger and this is her first year at this camp as a counselor, you probably shouldn’t make her more uncomfortable then she already is.

You sat in silence for a while, until you heard her speak again.

“I think he said his name was’ Shawn.’” She said.

You rolled your eyes. “I honestly don’t really care, he’s not a very nice person.”

It’s been a few days since you’ve had to interact with ‘Shawn’. However, because you are trying not to curse around Katie, the memory of your conversation with Katie burns in your brain constantly.

Which wouldn’t be a problem, except that you were talking about Shawn.

So, you have thoughts of Shawn constantly invading your brain.

Off in the distance, you see Shawn running up to you. You try to ignore him and turn to walk to the dining hall with Katie.

“Hey!” he calls, sounding a bit annoyed at your blatant attempt to ignore him.

You turn around to see him standing right behind you.

He takes another step closer to you, causing you to take one back.

“What do you want.” You say to him, more of a statement than a question.

“The boss wants to see us.” He says. He seems embarrassed to be talking to you in front of Katie, who looks absolutely terrified. “I don’t know what about... but I think it might have something to do with-”

Your eyes go a little wide. You cut him off, “ugh fine let’s go then.” You say as you start speed walking away from Katie. You turn your head and yell “I’ll see you at breakfast!” to Katie, noticing that Shawn is hot on your tail following you.

Your eyes meet Shawn’s and his annoyingly arrogant look returns to his face.

“Eager to be alone with me, I see?” he says.

You scrunch your nose at him and shoot him daggers with your eyes.

“Shut the fuck up! Katie is young and new. She’s uncomfortable with cursing. I didn’t want you to scare her!” you respond. You are not enjoying having to go anywhere alone with the asshole behind you, so you pick up your pace as you both make your way across camp.

“So now you’re a mama bear?” Shawn calls after you.

You bite your lower lip in frustration, trying to hold back the slew of words you want to say to him. You’re glad that he is behind you and can’t see that he’s successfully getting under your skin.

You finally arrive to the office cabin. But before you go inside, you feel a firm hand wrap all the way around your forearm, pulling you back.

You can feel your heartrate pick up and your breaths becomes short. You don’t want it to, but you can’t help it as Shawn is pulling you closer to his body.

He releases your arm, only to place both hands on your shoulders, holding you steady. He bends his head down a little and looks into your eyes.

You try pull back slightly, only to find that his grip on your shoulders is a lot stronger than you thought it was. You raise an eyebrow at him and give him your best confused look.

For a split moment, you find yourself lost thought,

‘How much muscle is he hiding under that shirt?’

His grip on your shoulders snaps you back to reality as he gives your shoulders a small squeeze.

He takes a breath, “I don’t know what’s going to happen in there, but I just wanted you to know that if you lose your job or something… I’m sorry.”

He releases your shoulders when try you pull out of his grip again.

You make sure your voice is silent, because you’re right outside of your boss’ office.

“Dude, no. I doubt that is going to happen. They probably just want to talk to us about some problematic campers or something.”

Shawn’s glace falls to the ground. You can see his jaw clenching up under his cheek. He eyes pop up to yours and you see his lips turn down into almost a frown, but angrier.

“Sorry, if I offended you, your highness, just thought I should try to be nice to you, in case things go sour”

You can hear the sarcasm dripping from his mouth.

You flip around and walk into the office, steam coming out of your ears.

Your boss is staring at you, waiting for one of you to respond.

“Y’all good?” they say.

Shawn is the first to speak.

“So, you want…” he points to you, “Her…. Camp to work with my camp?... for the upcoming showcase?”

Your boss looks him dead in the eye with no emotion.

“Yes? That is exactly what I just said.”

You feel your stomach tying itself in knots.

‘How the hell am I supposed to work with him? He hates me. I hate him. No fucking way are we going to be able to do this, I can’t even be near him without him doing something stupid.’

“Y/N?” Your boss is waving his hand in front of your face. “you ok with this?”

You shake your thoughts away. “Yeah sure, I guess.”

Your boss’ face lights up with excitement. “OK! Awesome! And just so you know, I will be expecting something from y’all as well! You two could kick off the showcase, be the opener!”

Both yours and Shawn’s mouth drop open as your boss begins pushing you out the door. “Ok! Your camps can start working together today! During their break! I’ll see y’all later”

Unfortunately, the day went quickly. After the regular beans and rice lunch, you find yourself counting your campers on the field.

You notice out of the corner of your eye that Shawn has begun leading his campers over to you. You can see the neck of his guitar case popping up from behind his head.

‘Of course this fucker plays guitar too’

It takes all of your concentration not to gag at the thought of having to work with Shawn.

You feel his hand touch your arm lightly to alert you to his presence. You and Shawn do a quick introduction of the project your boss wants the campers to do and then allow them to pair themselves off.

After seeing that all the campers are have a partner and are beginning to work, you see Shawn move to stand in front of you.

“hey..” Shawn says. There’s almost a hint of nerves in his voice.

You let out the breath you were holding and force yourself to look at him, hiding the annoyance behind your eyes. If you’re going to have to do this, you might as well pretend to be pleasant.

He lifts his hand up behind his neck. “So, um, we can sit over there, under that tree. For shade?” He says as he motions towards a tree off to the side of the field with his head.

“Yeah sure.” You respond, beginning to walk over there.

He follows right behind you and then promptly sits down into the grass.

“Ok so the project I have in mind is that your creative writing camp (motioning to you) and your music camp (motioning to Shawn) can work together to write songs!” Your boss said. “I think it would be good for the creative writers to try to work their skills in a new way, and for Shawn’s campers to learn how to write to someone else’s words. Obviously, it will be very difficult for them, but you both can help them along throughout the process.”

You’re staring down at Shawn now. Watching him, as he pulls his soft guitar case off his back and is pulling out his guitar. He’s lost in his own little world while checking the tuning of each string. Once he’s done he looks over to where you’re standing, suddenly looking confused. He motions to the spot on the ground next to him.

You fight back your instinct you scoff at him. Instead trying for a confused look, but pretty sure your face looks more like RBF.

“You just had to pick the only spot under the tree that is mostly dirt? Why don’t we sit over there? Where the grass is?” You say bluntly.

Shawn’s eyebrows fly up and as is now frantically looking at the ground, letting out a grunt when he seems to understand what you’ve said.

He suddenly starts tugging at his hoody by the neck, pulling it over his head.

“Here-” He says as he lays it out on the ground next to him. You notice that he places it closer to him that you probably would have sat.

“I’m not going to sit on your hoody, Shawn.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N! You need to sit and I don’t want to move.”

“Why did you even have a sweatshirt in the first place? It’s the middle of summer!”

“It’s cold in the dining hall, so I grabbed it before lunch.” He says matter of factly. “Just sit down, we need to get this song done.

“Ok fine whatever.” You say throwing your hands up in defeat.

You plop down next to him. You notice that your legs are only inches apart. You try not to roll your eyes, because you don’t want him to ask why you’re rolling them.

He pulls his guitar onto his lap and starts doing some random strumming. Playing through a couple chord progressions.

He looks up at you and a curl falls into his face. “What type of stuff do you usually write? Like do you have any poems or something we could use?”

You shift uneasily. You love your work and love sharing it, but something about revealing it to Shawn makes you hesitant.

Shawn senses your nerves, “I mean, like, um, if you want to. Well, we’re… supposed to let the writers write the lyrics, but I mean I could always write up something real quick. I write music all the time.”

And it’s when he offers to write it that you snap back. Part of you think that he actually might care about your feelings, but another part, a louder part, is telling you that he’s just trying to steal all the glory. There’s no way you’re going to let him write the music and the lyrics. And then take all the glory.

“Oh no! I have plenty of poetry we can use. Let me just grab my journal…”

You turn your back to Shawn as you dig through your string bag for your beat up old composition notebook. You smile as you pull out your familiar friend. The front is almost completely destroyed from the one time you spilt juice on it, which you’ve tried to fix with multiple layers of mod podge, which has turned into you mod podging your favorite photos and inspirational things onto the front.

You pull it out of your bag absent mindedly. But as soon as you see his eyes on your most prized position, you become anxious. It’s not like you haven’t shown people your writing before, you’ve shown who knows how many people this journal.

But showing it to Shawn? Your camp enemy? The boy that has somehow managed to sneak into your thoughts? You feel your chest tightening up.

Shawn is no longer staring at your journal, but at you. He’s waiting permission.

You shove your journal towards him. No point in stressing about this, you might as well rip off the bandaid.

Your mouth falls open into a ramble, “here look through it, I guess. Tell me if anything sticks out. It’s mostly all poetry, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find something.”

Remaining silent, Shawn reaches out and begins to flip through the pages. You busy yourself by pulling at sparse grass around you.

You notice a good amount of time has gone by, so you look over to Shawn. He is almost at the end of the journal, with various fingers marking pages in the book.

“Have you been reading them all???” you basically gasp, controlling your instinct to snatch your journal from him, because of his marked pages.

“um….. yeah….. I…. yeah….” He says, refusing to lift his eyes to you.

You can see a blush rise up his neck and touch his cheek.

He tries again, “I um… I’ve holding some pages, I wanted to mark them, but I didn’t want to doggy-ear your journal. I think one of these might work to turn into a song. Honestly, it’ll be really hard to choose just one. You’re a really talented writer.”

Now it’s your turn to blush. You’re told all the time that you’re talented, but to hear it from him is different. It’s almost like he’s admitting defeat.

You look off into the distance. But look back at him when you feel him shuffle closer to you, closing the gap between your sides. He leans over and is flipping to the pages he’s bookedmarked with his fingers.

Shawn speaks, “So um.. a lot of my favorites you probably won’t want to perform with me, so I should probably just forget it.”

You frown at him. “Well, let’s not narrow it done just yet, which ones did you like?”

You’re leaning into him now, trying to see your journal.

“Well, the problem is… you seem to write a lot of poetry about love and stuff…. And um I think some of your best stuff is on love….. and….. well…. You probably don’t want to do a love song with me… so, yeah…” Shawn relies.

Your face is now bright red. You hide your eyes from Shawn as you pull away from him, so that you both are no longer touching. You’re practically not even sitting on his hoody anymore.

“forget I said it.” Shawn frantically replies to your actions. “I can pick something else. I think I saw one I liked over here in the back,” he says as he’s flipping towards the back.

You notice that he’s kept one of his fingers between the pages. You also can’t help but notice that his finger bookmark is dangerously near your favorite poem.

‘You know what? Why the fuck not’

You take in breath, “Well, which one did you have in mind, they’re not all that bad. Which one is this?”

You grab the notebook out of his hands, making him completely lose his spot as he flips through the back pages. You’re careful to open the book to where his finger was.

You gasp.

‘Well fuck’

Shawn bookmarked your favorite.

Out of our peripheral, you can see Shawn blushing.

He opens his mouth, “um…. I really like that one…” His blush is becoming an even darker shade of red. “I like its flow… and it’s also just really good, in general”

You can see your own hand writing staring back at you:

FALLING: Sunrise with you on my chest No blinds in the place where I live Daybreak open your eyes Because this was only ever meant to be for one night Still, we're changing our minds here Be yours, be my dear So close with you on my lips Touch noses, feeling your breath Push your heart and pull away Be my summer in a winter day, love I can't see one thing wrong Between the both of us

Fast forward a couple years Grown up in the place that we live Make love, then we fight, Laugh because it was only meant to be for one night I guess we can't control What's just not up to us

You sit in silence as you and Shawn both reread it.

Shawn is clearly anxious. He has started fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

You can hear Shawn let out a breath and then start plucking his guitar. You pick up the pattern that he is playing, and you read your poem out loud to his guitar.

“Sunrise. With you on my chest. No blinds. In the place that I live.”

Shawn begins to harmonize with you, altering the original sound of your poem. He throws some words up high, and elongates some words, to give more of a melody.

Soon, you are all the way through the poem. You force yourself not to be the first to look up.

You can feel the heat on your cheeks. Then, you hear Shawn speak.

“well, that’s amazing. But it’s not quite a song yet, I think we need a chorus and bridge still.”

You look up and see that his face is red. You allow yourself to let out a small smile, knowing that it’s your words that had that effect on him.

“OK then, music boy, what do you suggest?”

“That’s not how it works, I can’t just pull a chorus out of my ass.” He says snarkly back to you.

And just like that, any magic that was built up in those few moments prior, is squashed. He killed them.

The next day you are preparing for another music writing session. Your boss has decided that for now, a part of your camps’ breaks will be used to write your songs.

You bump into Shawn walking out of the dining hall after lunch. The blush still spread over your cheeks and carrying across the top of nose.

“What’s so funny?” Anna had said.

Everyone seated around you was laughing, including Shawn. Shawn was belly laughing, throwing his head back.

You had been sitting at the long table full of camp counselors, as usual. Except this time, you noticed that Shawn was sitting fairly closer to you than normal. Usually, you and he were on complete opposite ends of the table. But this time, he was sitting closer to the middle on the opposite side as you, just close enough that if you spoke loudly, he might hear you.

You gave your attention to your friend that counsels the girls theatre camp. “Oh! Katie just made a really funny side comment! How did you not hear it? Even Shawn heard it, and he’s further down the table than you are!” you giggled.

You made eye contact with Shawn. Anna turned to Shawn. She asked, “What did Katie say?” in hopes that he could enlighten her.

Shawn looked away from Anna and back to you. He held your eye contact as a blush crept up his neck, reaching his ears. He said, “Oh, I didn’t actually hear it. It’s just she has this smile she does. When she’s about to laugh. And it was making me laugh.”

Anna looked disgusted and you dropped your face into your hands.

Katie and the others were still giggling at the previous joke, hadn’t even noticed the small conversation that just took place.

“I’m never smiling around you again.” You mutter to him.

You watch his face shoot red again.

“NOOooooo! I love your smile!” He whines as he bumps your shoulder.

After you get your campers settled, you walk over to the tree you sat under with Shawn.

Shawn is already there, in the same spot as yesterday, plucking his guitar and humming along.

You notice that he’s in the same spot as yesterday, and he has already laid out his hoody for you to sit on. You giggle as you plop down next to him.

His eyes shoot up to you with excitement, “I think I figured something out! I think it’ll make a good chorus!”

He starts plucking and strumming. Then, he looks up at you, staring directly into your eyes:

“You know I've been alone for quite a while

haven't I? I thought I knew it all

Found love but I was wrong

More times than enough

But since you came along

I'm thinking baby

You are bringing out a different kind of me

There's no safety net that's underneath, I'm free

Fallin’ all in”

______________________________

A few days pass and eventually the day of the showcase arrives.

You and Shawn have what you both think makes a good final product. You’ve completed the chorus, added harmonies, changed the name from ‘Falling’ to ‘Fallin’ all in’.

You’re very nervous to go on stage and perform. Especially because you will be performing one of your poems, and even more so because you will be SINGING one of your poem’s… with Shawn.

You’re trying not to shake, but you can’t help it. You’re nervous.

You feel Shawn place his arm around your shoulder, “You ready?” he says with a grin plastered across his face.

“No.”

“Oh, come on now. Don’t be nervous! You’re going to be amazing! You wrote the damn thing! And you have an amazing voice. So honestly, I don’t see why you’re worried.”

You lean into Shawn’s side and scoff.

“So, Mr. hotshot, you’re not nervous at all?” you say sarcastically.

“HA are you kidding me??? I’m Τ Ε R R I F I E D.”

You and Shawn are laughing now, while standing just off stage. You can hear your boss giving the final thank you introductions.

And then you hear your names.

“And up first, as our opener, we have our very own Camp Counselor Shawn and Camp Counselor Y/N!”

You can hear the applause but it doesn’t register, because all you can feel is Shawn’s hand grabbing yours, pulling you onto the stage.

Epilogue~~~

You are tearing up, watching your daughter board the bus.

“It’s only 3 weeks” you tell yourself. “she’ll be home in no time. She’ll be fine. She’s 12 years old now.”

You feel his strong arm wrap around your shoulders like it did all those years ago at camp.

You smile up to your husband, fighting back the tears.

As you walked off stage, you couldn’t believe it.

You had just performed your poem, adapted into a song, in front of at least two hundred people.

Mostly 12 year old campers, but still, people.

And they were cheering. Loud.

You had never heard such a loud cheer at a showcase. And you’d been doing the whole “camp” thing for a long time.

You turned around to see Shawn. But as you did, you felt Shawn grab your shoulders like he did the day you were assigned this project by your boss.

Only this time, instead of feeling him squeeze your shoulders, you felt his lips crash against yours.

138 notes · View notes

blueforever31 · 4 years

Video

Shawn Mendes- Treat You Better Lyrics (acoustic version) Non ti mentirò So che non è giusto per te E puoi dirmi se sono fuori Ma lo vedo sul tuo viso Quando dici che è quello che vuoi E passi tutto il tuo tempo In questa situazione sbagliata E ogni volta che vuoi che finisca So di poterti trattare meglio di lui E ogni ragazza come te merita un gentiluomo Dimmi perché stiamo perdendo tempo Su tutto il tuo pianto sprecato Quando invece dovresti essere con me So di poterti trattare meglio Meglio di lui Fermerò il tempo per te Nel momento in cui dici che ti piacerebbe anche a me Voglio solo darti l'amore che ti perdi Baby, solo per svegliarti con te Sarebbe tutto ciò di cui ho bisogno e questo potrebbe essere così diverso Dimmi cosa vuoi fare Perché so che posso trattarti meglio di lui E ogni ragazza come te merita un gentiluomo Dimmi perché stiamo perdendo tempo Su tutto il tuo pianto sprecato Quando invece dovresti essere con me So di poterti trattare meglio Meglio di lui Meglio di lui Dammi un segno Prendi la mia mano, staremo bene Prometti che non ti deluderò Sappi solo che non lo fai Devo farlo da solo Prometto che non ti deluderò mai Perché so che posso trattarti meglio di lui E ogni ragazza come te merita un gentiluomo Dimmi perché stiamo perdendo tempo Su tutto il tuo pianto sprecato Quando invece dovresti essere con me So di poterti trattare meglio Meglio di lui Meglio di lui Meglio di lui

#Shawn Mendes-

2 notes · View notes

reconnectshq · 4 years

Text

i’d love to see apps for faces like jordyn woods, manu rios, normani kordei, harry styles, madison beer, gavin leatherwood, alissa violet, maluma, devon lee carlson, jeff wittek, cierra ramirez, keith powers, jennie kim, itzan escamilla, zendaya, park jimin, cindy kimberly, younes bendjima, jung jinsoul, shawn mendes, ryan destiny, jacob elordi, mishti rahman, timothee chalamet, aisha potter, min yoongi, jamilla strand, fai khadra, sofia jamora or david dobrik!!!

#twitter rp #oc rp #appless rp #apartment rp

1 note · View note

tabloidtoc · 5 years

Text

Us, July 22

Cover: Team Taylor Swift vs. Scooter Braun’s Squad -- Who’s Lying? (if you want this story or anything else scanned, let me know!)

Page 1: First Look -- Jessica Alba in Milan

Page 2: Red Carpet -- Suits -- Halsey, Yara Shahidi, Maisie Williams, Regina Hall

Page 3: Angela Bassett, Ellie Goulding, Jourdan Dunn, Glenn Close, Piper Perabo

Page 4: Who Wore It Best? Emily Ratajkowski vs. Gigi Hadid, Andie MacDowell vs. Jessica Chastain, Sienna Miller vs. Bella Hadid

Page 6: Loose Talk -- Alan Cumming, Kate McKinnon on Elizabeth Warren, Terry Crews, Tyra Banks on Rihanna, Dax Shepard

Page 7: Contents

Page 10: Hot Pics -- The U.S. Women’s soccer team won the World Cup

Page 11: Milo Ventimiglia, Pippa and James Middleton, Teyana Taylor

Page 12: Gaten Matarazzo and Caleb McLaughlin, Candace Cameron Bure

Page 14: Dua Lipa and Anwar Hadid, Cardi B, The cast of The Lion King -- Billy Eichner, Shahidi Wright Joseph, JD McCrary, Seth Rogen, Florence Kasumba, Donald Glover, Beyonce Knowles-Carter, Alfre Woodard, Chiwetel Ejiofor, John Oliver, Keegan-Michael Key, Eric Andre

Page 16: Furever Friends -- Eric McCormack and one of his rescue pups, Kevin Hart’s son Enzo and dog Roxy, Andy Cohen and dog Wacha, Lauren Conrad and puppy

Page 18: Stars and Stripes -- Irina Shayk, Jessica Biel and Justin Timberlake and son Silas, Olivia Culpo, Behati Prinsloo

Page 19: Ashley Iaconetti and Jared Haibon, Jana Kramer and husband and kids, Tiffani Thiessen and husband and kids, January Jones, Hilary Swank

Page 20: Family Matters -- Stephen “tWitch” Boss and Allison Holker with son Maddox, Ciara and Russell Wilson and daughter Sienna, Neil Patrick Harris and husband and twins

Page 22: Stars They’re Just Like Us -- Lady Gaga, Gwen Stefani, Rihanna

Page 23: Chris Pine, Sharon Stone

Page 24: Float On! Britney Spears, Khloe Kardashian’s daughter True, Ashanti, Julianne Hough, Nina Dobrev

Page 26: Lauren Burnham on parenthood

Page 28: Miranda Lambert is returning to work

Page 29: Evan Spiegel appreciates Miranda Kerr’s inner beauty, Shay Mitchell is six months pregnant, Val Chmerkovskiy and Jenna Johnson had a second wedding in Jenna’s hometown on Provo, Utah

Page 30: Leah Remini is considering legal action because she feels Scientology got her show Leah Remini: Scientology and the Aftermath cancelled

Page 31: Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello are fueling dating rumors, Adele is taking her revenge body very seriously

Page 32: 90 Day Fiance: Happily Ever After’s Jay Smith was served divorce papers by Ashley Martson and facing deportation, Vicki Gunvalson has been demoted to friend on RHOOC, Bachelor Nation likes talking about sex -- Hannah Brown, Colton Underwood, Ben Flajnik and Courtney Robinson, Nick Viall and Andi Dorfman

Page 33: Meghan McCain’s days on The View may be numbered, VIP Style -- Paris Hilton, Mindy Kaling, John Stamos, Mary-Kate Olsen and Dasha Zhukova and Camilla Fayed, Lucy Hale, Justin Theroux, Amy Poehler, Ted Danson, Shaquille O’Neal, Liam Hemsworth

Page 34: What’s in My Bag? Heidi Montag

Page 35: Goop’s most eyebrow-raising moments

Page 36: Hollywood’s A-list takes sides as Taylor Swift accuses powerhouse manager Scooter Braun of bullying

Page 40: Inside the christening of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s son Archie

Page 42: Million Dollar Listing’s Steve Gold and girlfriend Luiza Gawlowska’s bundle of joy

Page 44: Celebs Who Save

Page 48: Style -- Heel Steal -- Virginia Gardner, Diane Kruger, Lupita Nyong’o, Leighton Meester

Page 49: Bella Hadid, Mandy Moore, Kacey Musgraves, Awkwafina, Kate Upton

Page 51: Gigi Hadid is the new face of Michael Kors Wonderlust

Page 52: Us Musts -- Kumail Nanjiani and Dave Bautista on Stuber

Page 54: Suits

Page 55: Ella Purnell on Sweetbitter

Page 58: Fashion Police -- Lena Dunham, Megan Thee Stallion, Tana Mongeau

Page 59: Natalia Vodianova, Lewis Hamilton, Lil’ Kim

Page 60: 25 Things You Don’t Know About Me -- Julia Stiles

#tabloid #taylor swift #scooter braun #justin bieber #demi lovato #miranda lambert #Brendan McLoughlin #suits #gina torres #sarah rafferty #gabriel macht #sasha roiz

8 notes · View notes

drugastronaprawdy-blog · 5 years

Text

#4 Czy Shawn Mendes jest gejem a Camila Cabello, rasistką?

Witajcie w drugim już poście, który publikuje dzisiejszego dnia. W tej notce poruszę temat o którym jest ostatnio bardzo głośno czyli związek Shawna Mendesa i Camili Cabello oraz tajemniczych tweetów raperki “CupcakKe”.

Wstawię Wam jeszcze tweety, które opublikowała raperka. Wywołały one naprawdę sporą kontrowersję (ale tak miało być, dlaczego? Czytajcie dalej!):

W skrócie:

“Pierd%^&łam się z twoim chłopakiem i zrobiłam to celowo bo wiem, że jesteś rasistką.

“Umawia się z ona z gościem, który jest gejem.”

To tyle. Co sądzi o tym Liv? Zobaczmy.

“Shawn i Cupcakke spotykali się ze sobą lub coś się między nimi działo. Camila się o tym dowiedziała i pojechała rasistowskimi komentarzami po Cupcakke, mówiąc o jej wyglądzie lub życiu Cupcakke spała z Shawnem i zdemaskowała ich na Twitterze.“

Shawn i CupcakKe wcześniej nie mieli ze sobą żadnego kontaktu. Więc tak całkowicie logicznie (oczywiście, nie zwracając uwagi na kwestie wizualne!) czy Shawn mógłby przespać się z CupcakKe skoro jest gejem?

Odpowiedź brzmi, nie! Jesteście zaskoczeni? Tak myślałem.

Prawdą jest to, że raperka chciała przyciągnąć uwagę do swojej osoby, by z hukiem ogłosić odejście z kariery muzycznej i nie ma tutaj żadnych innych podtekstów.

Ja wyraziłem już swoją opinię na temat związku Camili i Shawna, jestem ciekawy jak wy się do tego odnosicie.

A czy Camila Cabello jest rasistką? Co mówi na ten temat Liv?

“Camila Cabello jest rasistką jeśli o tym nie wiecie.”

Liv jak zwykle stara się być bezwzględna i wstawia screeny rozmów 15-letnej dziewczynki, która nie miała pojęcia o czym mówi. Tak, zgadza się. W 2012 roku, Camila miała zaledwie 15 lat. Tak na ludzki rozum, człowiek w takim wieku popełnia jeszcze wiele błędów, wypowiada się na temat rzeczy o których nie ma wystarczającej wiedzy. Tak było w tym wypadku. Mimo, że Camila pisała to w celach żartobliwych (co wcale nie jest usprawiedliwieniem) to była młoda i miała każde prawo, by nie zdawać sobie sprawy z konsekwencji jej czynów i tego, że te słowa są naprawdę krzywdzące.

Każdy człowiek popełnia błędy i warto się na nich uczyć. Camila już wiele razy przeprosiła za te wiadomości i tweety, który wysłała. Jak zachowuje się teraz?

Czy Camila Cabello jest rasistką? Wydaje mi się, że po screenach, które wstawiłem powinniście z łatwością odpowiedzieć sobie na to pytanie.

Mam nadzieję, że post Wam się podobał i nie macie już żadnych wątpliwości co do sytuacji przedstawionych wyżej.

Koniecznie podzielcie się swoją opinią na moich social mediach.

xoxo,

Fai.

ASK

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

#shawnmendes #camilacabello #ecp #drugastronaprawdy

3 notes · View notes

anuhearesorts-blog · 5 years

Text

𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚈𝙼𝙾𝚄𝚂 𝙰𝚂𝙺𝙴𝙳: this is so cute, mwm ?!

thank you so much ! and i would love to see bretman rock, jharrel jerome, aj saudin, jackson wang, froy gutierrez, zayn malik, jaxon howden, kj apa, herman tommeraas, shawn mendes, reece king, maluma, chance perdomo, teo halm, xavier serrano, fai khadra, elias riadi, nico hiraga, marc forne, ansel elgort, avan jogia, calum hood, diggy simmons, charles melton, oh sehun, abel tesfaye, dean, jacob elordi, tom holland, justice smith, brian whittaker, kris wu,mena massoud, wong yukhei, nick robinson, jeon jungkook, joe keery, gavin leatherwood, lorenzo zurzoto, aminè, alex aiono, jacob batalon, younes bendjima, flamur ukshini, ross lynch & keith powers just to name a few !

#a tagg

1 note · View note

socialsrpg-blog · 5 years

Note

Trying to decide on a male to play

Well I had a whole list typed out but when I posted this ask, Tumblr deleted the darn thing… So let’s try again. I’d love to see Fai Khadra, Reece King, Todd Smith, David Dobrik, Diego Barrueco, Steven Kelly, G-Eazy, Tom Holland, the boys of 5SOS, Shawn Mendes, Khalid, The Weeknd, Harry Styles, Zayn Malik, Noah Centineo, Timothy Chalamet, Cody Ko, Noel Miller, AJ Saudin, Avan Jogia, Joe Keery, Dacre Montgomery, Scotty Sire, Jack Galinsky, Michael B Jordan, Jessey Stevens, Jay Alvarez & Tyler Posey. Buut if you have muse to apply for someone I didn’t mention, we’ll welcome them with open arms just the same! Also Pete Davidson, Nathan Sykes, Neels Visser & Jeff Wittek!

#twitter rp #rp #rpg #new rp #oc rp #mw #mwm #anonymous #faq #answered

1 note · View note

marie-swriting · 2 years

Text

Les Souvenirs De Notre Relation - Shawn Mendes

Masterlist

Superache Masterlist

Résumé: Tu commences enfin à te remettre de ta relation avec Shawn, mais il décide de venir chez toi au milieu de la nuit.

Warnings : angst, fin triste, Shawn est bourré, dites-moi si j'en ai loupés d'autres.

Nombre de mots : 1.7k

Version Wattpad

Version anglaise sur Tumblr

Chanson qui m'a inspiré : Memories par Conan Gray

La sonnette de chez toi te tire du lit. Tu papillonnes des yeux avant de les frotter et de regarder l'heure sur ton téléphone. Tu te demandes qui peut bien venir chez toi à deux heures du matin. Tu pousses un soupir d’exaspération avant de quitter ton lit et marcher jusqu'à ta porte. Tu regardes par le judas et vois Shawn, une expression triste sur son visage et ses cheveux mouillés par la pluie. Tu ne l'avais pas revu depuis deux mois, depuis votre séparation. Tu ignores pourquoi il est là. Tu hésites à lui ouvrir, craignant de faire une erreur. Après un débat intérieur, tu décides de lui laisser une chance. Après tout, il ne serait pas là, s’il n’avait pas une bonne raison. A peine tu ouvres la porte, Shawn entre en trombe dans ton appartement. Tu lèves les yeux au ciel et refermes derrière lui, reconsidérant déjà ta décision.

- Qu'est-ce que tu fais là ? lui demandes-tu alors qu'il reste debout dans ton salon.

- Je veux te parler, annonce-t-il en enlevant sa veste trempée et la posant sur le portemanteau.

- Il est deux heures du matin, Shawn.

- Je sais, mais j'en ai besoin, insiste Shawn et tu réalises que sa voix est légèrement différente.

- T'es bourré ?

- Non, j'ai juste bu un verre, nie-t-il, mais tu le connais.

- Écoute, dis ce que t'as à dire rapidement, je dois me lever demain. Enfin, dans cinq heures.

- Je... Je veux qu'on soit ensemble à nouveau.

En entendant sa phrase, ton sommeil quitte totalement ton corps. Tu lèves tes sourcils et tu espères avoir mal compris. Tu te masses les tempes en fermant les yeux pendant une seconde. Quand tu le regardes à nouveau, tu vois à son visage qu’il est sérieux.

- C'est toi qui as voulu qu'on se sépare, rétorques-tu avant de tripoter ton pendentif papillon pendant à ton cou.

- Je sais et je le regrette.

- C'est un peu trop tard maintenant.

Il ne t'écoute pas et commence à marcher dans ton salon, regardant les alentours. Ses yeux sont remplis de nostalgie, il se remémore des moments de votre relation au fur et à mesure de ses pas. Tu le regardes de loin, ignorant comment agir. Son état d’ébriété ne t’aide pas à lui faire prendre conscience de la situation. A un moment, il s'arrête et il prend un objet sur ta table de salon. Même si tu ne le vois pas, tu devines ce qu'il a pris. Tu trottines vers lui et lui enlèves le livre des mains.

- Tu as encore notre album photo ? demande-t-il, un sourire idiot sur le visage. Je pensais que tu l'aurais jeté.

- Ce soir, c’était la première fois que je le regardais depuis notre séparation, en fait.

- Donc, tu l'admets, ce qu'on avait te manque aussi.

- Je n'ai jamais dit ça, affirmes-tu en serrant un peu plus l'album contre toi.

- Alors pourquoi tu l'as ressorti après tout ce temps ?

- Je ne sais pas vraiment. Je… Je suppose que je voulais voir si je pouvais regarder une photo de nous sans fondre en larmes, expliques-tu et avant qu’il puisse sourire, tu te dépêches de préciser : et je le peux.

Shawn ne dit rien, pas convaincu par ta réponse. Il reprend sa visite et se dirige vers ta cuisine. Il se saisit d'un verre d'eau. Il le boit d'une traite avant de le mettre dans ton lave-vaisselle. Tu le rejoins, de plus en plus agacée par son comportement. Tu voudrais qu’il te laisse enfin tranquille, surtout que tu as besoin de te reposer. Tu croises tes bras sur ta poitrine avant de prend un ton déterminé :

- Pourquoi tu es là, Shawn ?

- Je te l'ai dit, je veux qu'on se remette ensemble. Je n'aurais jamais dû te laisser partir. J'ai été idiot.

- Tu l'as voulu car avec la distance et ton job, c’était trop compliqué.

- Mais toi, tu ne le voulais pas, rétorque-t-il et tu évites son regard pendant une seconde. Tu voulais qu’on trouve une solution pour que ça fonctionne. Et j'étais tellement persuadé d'avoir raison que je n'ai pas écouté tes arguments, comme un abruti. J'aurais dû. Je ne veux pas te perdre. Sans toi, je ne suis rien. S’il te plaît, laisse-moi réparer ma connerie, supplie-t-il en tentant de prendre ta main.

- Shawn, arrête, ordonnes-tu en reculant d’un pas. Je commence enfin à avancer, je n'ai pas besoin de t'entendre dire ça.

- Mais, au fond de toi, tu m'aimes encore.

- Bien sûr, déclares-tu comme une évidence. Tu auras toujours une place dans mon cœur, mais ça ne veut pas dire qu'on doit être à nouveau ensemble.

- Pourquoi pas ?

- L'amour ne suffit pas toujours. Ça n'a pas marché une fois, la deuxième fois ne sera pas meilleure. Crois-moi, je n'ai pas arrêté d’y penser ces deux derniers mois. J'ai imaginé tous les scénarios et il n'y a pas d'issue heureuse pour nous. Si tu n’avais pas rompu, on l’aurait fait plus tard. On commençait à tellement s’éloigner que notre relation allait avoir une fin à un moment ou à un autre.

- On pourrait rester amis, alors ? Je veux toujours faire partie de ta vie, propose-t-il avec une once d’espoir et tu te retiens de céder.

- On ne peut pas. Ça ne serait pas bon, car on s'empêcherait d'avancer avec quelqu'un d'autre. C'est mieux si on ne se parle plus, lui dis-tu, tes mains jouant avec la chaîne de ton collier.

- Y/N, s'il te plait.

- Mon Dieu, écoute-moi pour une fois dans ta vie ! t'emportes-tu en passant ta main sur ton visage. Je ne veux pas. J'étais très bien avec juste les souvenirs de notre relation. Certes quand tu m'as quitté, j’étais dévastée et je t'en ai voulu. Je pensais même que j'aurais toujours des souvenirs de toi où je te détesterais, mais j'ai réalisé que tu avais raison depuis le début. J'ai des bons souvenirs de toi, de nous et tu es en train de tout ruiner. Alors, arrête. Tu étais très bien quand tu étais juste dans ma mémoire. Je n'avais pas besoin de te voir ce soir, surtout si c’était pour que tu dises ça. J'aurai toujours de l'affection pour toi, mais c'est fini.

Shawn hoche simplement la tête, ses yeux remplis de larmes alors que tu respires fortement. Tu sais que tu viens de lui briser le cœur, mais tu dois protéger le tien. Tu as besoin d'être claire avec lui. Tu n'aimes pas être la cause de sa souffrance, mais tu n'as pas d'autre choix. Il ne te répond pas, comprenant que c'est peine perdue. Il quitte la pièce alors que tu reprends tes esprits. Tu inspires plusieurs fois avant de retrouver Shawn au salon, endormi sur ton canapé. Frustrée, tu pousses un soupir, mais décides de ne pas le réveiller. Son ébriété ne te permettra de le faire partir de chez toi facilement et tu ne veux pas qu'il conduise et cause un accident.

Tu lui laisses un verre d'eau avec un médicament avant de prendre une couverture. En la posant sur lui, Shawn ouvre les yeux pendant un instant. Il te regarde pencher au-dessus de lui, ses yeux tombent sur ton collier et il sourit niaisement.

- Tu le portes toujours.

Tu n’as pas le temps d’ouvrir la bouche, car il se rendort aussitôt. Tu le regardes une dernière fois et te rends dans ta chambre. Tu tournes un peu dans ton lit, repassant ta discussion avec Shawn dans ta tête et essuyant les quelques larmes sur tes joues avant de pouvoir t'endormir.

Quand ton réveil sonne trois heures plus tard, tu en veux à Shawn d'avoir coupé ton sommeil. Tu as du mal à quitter tes draps, mais tu te forces à te préparer pour ton travail. Quand tu es prête, tu te rends dans le salon après avoir pris un carton qui traînait dans ton placard depuis deux mois. Tu le poses à côté du canapé et secoues Shawn. Il lui faut une minute pour émerger. Quand il te voit, il ne peut empêcher un sourire de prendre place sur son visage. Pour lui, il est de retour au début de votre relation, où tout allait bien, où vous étiez heureux. Mais ton expression neutre le ramène vite à la réalité. Il s'assoit avant de prendre le verre et le médicament qu'il vient de voir. Quand il a fini, il se met debout, face à toi. Tu pointes le carton avant de prendre la parole :

- Ce sont tes affaires. Je crois qu'il y a un manteau, des livres et des CD. Je n’avais pas pu te les donner avant, informes-tu et il reste mutique. Tu peux les reprendre, insistes-tu.

- Tu ne rigolais pas quand tu disais que tu voulais que notre relation reste des souvenirs, dit Shawn en rigolant pour cacher sa douleur.

- Si je veux avancer, je n'ai pas le choix. Oh, il y a ça aussi, dis-tu en défaisant ton collier.

- Non, Y/N, tu peux le garder. Il t'appartient, à toi et seulement à toi.

- Je sais, mais je sens que tant que je l'aurai, je ne pourrai jamais vraiment faire le deuil de notre histoire et je ne veux pas le jeter, alors prends-le, précises-tu en lui tendant le bijou.

- Si c'est ce que tu veux, murmure-t-il en le prenant.

Shawn regarde le collier, admirant le papillon argenté. Votre tentative de premier baiser avait été interrompue par l'apparition de l'insecte avec de magnifiques ailes bleues. Vous aviez rigolé avant de pouvoir vous embrasser réellement. Le papillon est vite devenu votre symbole. Tu aimes ce collier. Tu as pour habitude de toujours le toucher quand tu ressens une émotion négative. Mais tu ne peux pas continuer à le porter.

Shawn le range dans le carton, en faisant attention. Il se saisit de la boîte avant de marcher jusqu'à la porte. Tu la lui ouvres et il commence à partir, la tête baissée. Tu t'apprêtes à refermer la porte quand il se retourne une dernière fois.

- Je suis désolé pour hier soir. Je n'aurais pas dû venir. Tu as raison, avoue-t-il avant de prendre une grande inspiration : Toi aussi, tu auras toujours une place dans mon cœur. Je t'aime.

Tu aimerais le lui dire en retour, mais les mots semblent bloqués dans ta gorge, car ce n'est pas la chose à dire. Au fond de toi, tu le sais. Alors, tu lui lances un sourire triste avant de fermer la porte, symbolisant la fin du chapitre de ton histoire avec Shawn.

Masterlist

Superache Masterlist

{Ceci est mon blog secondaire donc je répondrai aux commentaires sous le pseudo @marie-sworld}

#marie swriting in french #marie swriting with music #marie swriting with conan gray #marie swriting with superache #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x y/n #celebrities one shot #shawn mendes #shawn mendes x fem reader #shawn mendes x female reader #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes angst #tumblr français #Spotify

4 notes · View notes

sometimesambroswrites · 6 years

Photo

Heh, nessuno ha chiesto il mio resoconto del concerto di ieri ma ve lo faccio lo stesso perché sono una rompiballe.

Io soffro molto di ansia generalizzata e ansia sociale, okay?, okay, quindi andare in posti affollati per me è .,,., difficile. Soprattutto posti affollati in cui la gente si muove/salta/urla/e così via. Però quando ho preso i biglietti a maggio ho pensato “se lo faccio per qualcuno, tanto vale che lo faccia per Ermal”.

Quindi il mio resoconto del concerto sarà molto intriso di come l'ho affrontato date queste circostanze.

In primis, uno shoutout a Radio 105 che ci ha ripetuto 15 volte che sponsorizzavano il concerto di Ermal. Non vi ascolterò mai più perché avete passato la Cintura 5 volte e mi avete interrotto Shawn Mendes. Vergogna. Also, shoutout perché invece del supporting act avevamo la radio. Direi …,., scelta valida?

Mentre il campo – è Castagneto Carducci, ci stanno campi di grano e pomodori – si riempiva, Ermal è uscito a fare un saluto dal palco – non so se lo faccia abitualmente, quindi riporto – con la sua maglietta verde militare un po' tutto giggl-y facendo correre la gente verso il palco stile bisonti nel Re Leone. Io in quel momento come Simba ma non importa.

Ha cominciato chiaramente con Non abbiamo armi. Era esausto e si vedeva ma è stato comunque perfetto. La giacca con le paillette arcobaleno era un ottima scelta per un concerto a Novembre. @Ermal ti prego ero pronta col tè freddo e i biscotti nel caso ad un certo punto ti sentissi male, mettiti una maglietta con le paillette se proprio proprio non ce la fai.

Ha ringraziato alla fine di tutte le canzoni.

Momenti che probabilmente non mi scorderò: - È vietato morire con quasi la Via Lattea che si vedeva nel cielo, più urlata che cantata, - “e a questa vita io gli voglio bene”, anche se ho passato due settimane buone in crisi depressiva perché stavo così in ansia per il concerto, a questa vita gli voglio bene pure io stronzolo, - quando ci ha fatto cantare l'inizio di Piccola anima prima che la rifacesse lui perché era stanco, - “le vostre inutili guerre DI MERDA”, - “ogni male è un bene quando serve”, si è cambiato la giacca per cantare Lettera a mio padre e si è messo quella con le ali, - “non mi avete fatto niente, non avete avuto niente”, - Il vento della vita che rimane una delle mie preferite, - “ogni dolore ti è servito e non lo sai, a costruire il tuo sorriso, quel bel sorriso che adesso hai”

Il clown è straziante

Ha fatto le ultime due canzoni appeso all'asta del microfono perché si reggeva a malapena in piedi

non so chi ha dato il permesso a quest'uomo di cantare Mi salvi chi può live tbh, fermatelo

Ermal si prenderebbe una pallottola per tutti i membri della band (tranne forse Vige perché almeno vincerebbe la competizione di tuffi)

andare ad un concerto di Ermal è catartico

verso ¾ di concerto ho smesso di sentirmi come se fossi sul punto di morire; se avete mai provato questa sensazione – è una bella sensazione

“queste due ore non ve le ridà nessuno, quindi grazie per averle passate con me”

Ermal vuole prendere tutto il bello che vede nel mondo, metterlo nelle sue canzoni e poi dirvi “guardate quanta cazzo di bellezza c'è” e lasciarvela dentro

mi sono fatta il concerto aggrappata alla sedia perché tutte quelle persone in piedi e i rumori e le luci mi stavano sopraffacendo il 90% del tempo, però ho sentito lo stesso

credo che il suo fosse l'unico concerto che mi sarei potuta fare come primo concerto dall'Ansia™

RAGA ERMAL È SMOL nessuno mi aveva avvertito

final shoutout a mia sorella minore che mi ha fatto da babysitter senza sapere una parola di una canzone ed ha assunto subito la faccia e la postura di padre al concerto della figlia appena ha poggiato il culo sulla sedia

the true hero

passo e chiudo

#ermal meta #ah ha cantato liberOOOO come se ne andasse della sua vita #per la parte #metamoro #ermal meta castagneto carducci

24 notes · View notes

icarusfallsiloveu9 · 6 years

Text

hey y’all, this here is a tester post ! some of our most wanted include benjamin wadsworth, kim jongin, kj apa, jaden smith, tom holland, bretman rock, kevin abstract, fai khadra, sehun, amine, kalin white, keith powers, chance perdomo, sammy wilk, hyungwon, david dobrik, younes bendjima, khalid, jackson wang, ansel elgort, zayn, quincy brown, charles melton, noah centineo, xavier serrano, jungkook, nick robinson, thomas doherty, reece king, toddy smith, kai, nathan zed, dylan sprouse, justin combs, ross lynch, nico hiraga, justin arreaga, ross butler, tyler okonma, neels visser, jaxon howden, miles heizer, alex ernst, edawn, marc forne, shawn mendes, aj saudin, avan jogia, matt champion, wooseok, ricardo hoyos, justice smith, herman tommeraas, demetrius harmon, eduard torres, aubrey joseph, drew phillips, manu rios, anwar hadid, trevor jackson, gavin leatherwood, steve lacy, cameron boyce, jordan ullman, & dacre montgomery ! please bring us any and all of these babes !

#tthahahfg #134390ejd

1 note · View note

harrypotterimmaginaa · 7 years

Text

Lieto Fine (George Weasley x Lettore)

Avvertimenti: menzione di stupro (niente di descrittivo), alcol, è un po’ triste

Richiesta: lol no

Parole: 2238 (sorry è lunghissimo)

A/n: basata su una storia vera (non mia, ma di una persona che conosco e a cui voglio molto bene), leggermente ispirata da “Bad Reputation” di Shawn Mendes. Spero vi piaccia.

GIF NOT MINE

Il Ballo del Ceppo era dietro l’angolo e, ovviamente, tutta la scuola era al settimo cielo. Ogni giorno almeno una ventina di ragazze ricevevano uno sdolcinato invito da parte di altrettanti ragazzi e (T/n) non ce la faceva più. Sì, per la prima settimana era stato tutto molto romantico: le coppiette che giravano per la scuola a braccetto e il penetrante odore di fiori le facevano venire il buon umore. Era sicura che prima o poi sarebbe arrivato anche il suo momento, che prima o poi George Weasley l’avrebbe fermata in un corridoio e l’avrebbe invitata al ballo. Quando lo vedeva in classe non poteva fare a meno di ripensare a loro due e a come la loro relazione si fosse interrotta bruscamente. Purtroppo l’amarezza non la fermava dal sognare il momento in cui l’avrebbe guardata con i suoi meravigliosi occhi scuri e le avrebbe chiesto di accompagnarlo al ballo. Ovviamente lei avrebbe risposto di sì, quasi con le lacrime agli occhi. Almeno una decina di ragazzi l’avevano invitata ad andare con loro, ma lei li aveva declinati tutti: ci sarebbe andata con George, e con George soltanto.

Non sapeva esattamente perché ne fosse così convinta, ma ogni giorno che passava la sua sicurezza si tramutava in speranza, e da speranza diventava muta rassegnazione. Era quella la cosa che la faceva soffrire di più: era così convinta che l’avrebbe invitata che le faceva male il cuore vedere quanto la festa si stesse avvicinando e come lei fosse rimasta ancora senza accompagnatore.

-Hey (T/n), tutto bene?- chiese Cho Chang, la sua migliore amica. (T/n) sospirò sconsolata. No, non andava tutto bene. Come poteva andare tutto bene quando la persona che le aveva spezzato il cuore, ma che ancora amava, non la salutava nemmeno per i corridoi? Come poteva andare tutto bene se sarebbe finita per andare al ballo da sola?

-Senti, posso dire a Cedric che ci vado con te, da amiche. Non è un problema-. La ragazza le strinse il braccio con dolcezza. (T/n) sbuffò.

-No, Cho, non voglio rendere infelice anche te. Ci vado da sola, non ti preoccupare.

-Almeno fai colazione-, Cho le versò un bicchiere di succo di pera. –Non devi morire di fame solo per un ballo, dai.

(T/n) sorseggiò il succo dando un’occhiata al tavolo di Grifondoro. Eccolo lì, vicino al suo famosissimo gemello. (T/n) osservò come la luce naturale del sole facesse brillare i suoi occhi e come i suoi denti bianchissimi scintillassero quando rideva.

Dio, era così perfetto! E lei era così stupida per aver pensato anche solo per un secondo che l’avrebbe invitata al ballo. Si disse che doveva aver letto troppe favole perché era certa che il lieto fine semplicemente non esistesse. Non poteva aspettarsi che il ragazzo con cui aveva condiviso così tanto, e per cui aveva versato così tante lacrime, all’improvviso si pentisse di aver rotto con lei e la invitasse al ballo in ginocchio. Si sentiva così stupida.

-Oh (T/n), è lui che ci perde, okay? Tu sei fantastica e se lui non lo ha capito… beh, è proprio uno scemo- la rassicurò Cho che, evidentemente, aveva seguito il suo sguardo e aveva capito che cosa la sua amica stesse pensando. (T/n) rise.

-Certo, come no. Le solite cose che si dicono ad un’amica con il cuore spezzato- rispose alzando gli occhi al cielo. Cho la guardò per qualche istante, incerta se sputare il rospo o no, poi le pizzicò il braccio.

-Ahia! E questo per cos’era?!- esclamò (T/n) seccata, ma venne immediatamente zittita dall’amica.

-Lo vedi quel ragazzo lì infondo? Al tavolo di Tassorosso?- bisbigliò indicando il tavolo di fronte a loro.

-Avrò bisogno che tu sia più precisa, ce ne sono a decine, sai com’è…- ribatté (T/n) sarcastica.

-Quello con i capelli castani che sta parlando con Ernie.

(T/n) annuì: erano stati compagni di banco a pozioni per tutto l’anno passato.

-Ho sentito che ti vuole invitare.

-Ha-ha, molto divertente, ora possiamo parlare di cose serie?-. Cho sospirò.

-Sono seria, okay? Me l’ha detto Marietta, è tipo un suo lontano cugino.

Il sorriso abbandonò il viso (T/n). Non le importava granché di andare con Steve Cooper, ma pensò che sarebbe stato meglio che non andarci affatto, per cui, quando il giorno dopo Steve si presentò davanti all’aula di Transfigurazione con una rosa in mano chiedendole di andare al ballo insieme, accettò.

Il giorno del Ballo del Ceppo arrivò in fretta. (T/n) aveva sentito che George aveva invitato Alicia Spinnet e la cosa l’aveva fatta stare tanto male che aveva quasi pensato di dare buca a Steve. Ma, dopotutto, perché negarsi una serata di svago? Certo, sarebbe stata dura, ma non avrebbe mollato.

-Non lo so Cho… secondo te come li faccio i capelli? Li raccolgo o li lascio giù?- chiese all’amica guardandosi allo specchio. Indossava un lungo abito rosa pallido con una cintura di brillanti e il busto ricamato, ai piedi portava dei sandali argentati con un po’ di tacco e alle orecchie aveva delle perle molto discrete, ma bellissime, che erano appartenute a sua nonna. I capelli le ricadevano in morbide onde sulle spalle.

-Wow (T/n), sei bellissima.- disse Cho uscendo dal bagno. (T/n) arrossì un po’.

-Decisamente giù i capelli comunque.- aggiunse avvicinandosi all’amica. (T/n) si girò e lasciò che Cho le mettesse un filo di rossetto.

-Pronta?

-Ponta.

Quando (T/n) e Cho uscirono dalla sala comune di Corvonero trovarono Cedric e Steve ad aspettarle con un bouquet di fiori a testa.

(T/n) accettò i fiori di Steve con un sorriso sommesso, ma quando si accorse che si trattava di camelie il cuore le saltò un battito: George gliele regalava in continuazione, erano le sue preferite. Steve le porse il braccio timidamente, strappandola dai suoi dolorosi ricordi, e (T/n) lo prese sospirando: sarebbe stata una lunga serata.

(T/n) e Steve ballarono a lungo. Lui era molto dolce e (T/n) si sentiva un mostro ad ingannarlo così. Non voleva creargli false speranze, ma avere qualcuno al proprio fianco che desiderava soltanto che lei stesse bene la distraeva dal cercare George con lo sguardo. Non che non lo avesse fatto, anzi, aveva lasciato che i suoi occhi osservassero attentamente la Sala Grande diverse volte. A giudicare dalla vicinanza dei loro corpi George e Alicia si stavano decisamente divertendo. (T/n) sentì qualcosa spezzarsi dentro di lei per l’ennesima volta.

-Tutto bene (T/n)?- la voce apprensiva di Steve la strappò ai suoi pensieri. (T/n) sorrise: quel ragazzo le scioglieva il cuore con la sua dolcezza, ma non era lui.

-Sì, tutto okay. Stavo solo… pensando.

Gli occhi scuri del ragazzo la scrutarono per qualche istante.

-Ti stai annoiando? Vuoi che ti vada a prendere qualcosa da bere?

(T/n) scosse la testa e si avvicinò di un passo a Steve. Sentiva le sue mani sui fianchi leggere come piume, ma non era lo stesso. Il tocco di George era una boccata d’aria fresca, un alito di vento che scompigliava i capelli, un brivido che saliva e scendeva per la schiena, era semplicemente diverso.

Steve doveva aver mal interpretato il suo gesto, perché inclinò la testa e si sporse per baciarla. Nel panico più totale (T/n) voltò il viso e le labbra di Steve finirono per sfiorarle la guancia.

-Scusa Steve, sul serio…- cominciò con voce tremante allontanando il viso dal suo.

-Solo che io non provo lo stesso per te.

Il ragazzo sembrò cascare dalle nuvole e un intenso rossore gli tinse le guance.

-Io… non volevo, m-mi spiace- tentò di scusarsi grattandosi la testa imbarazzato. (T/n) scosse la testa.

-No, dispiace a me di averti illuso. Mi dispiace sul serio.- disse baciandolo velocemente sulla guancia e correndo fuori dalla Sala Grande mentre un conato di vomito la bruciava la gola.

La Luna dista dalla Terra 384.400 km, ha un raggio di 1737 km e il suo periodo di rivoluzione dura ventisette giorni; la Bastiglia è stata presa nel 1789; un piede corrisponde esattamente a 30,48 cm; l’impero romano d’occidente è caduto nel 476; Grindelwald è stato sconfitto da Silente nel 1945.

I numeri calmavano (T/n). In momenti del genere, quando le emozioni diventavano troppe e si ammassavano nella sua testa tutte assieme, (T/n) si ripeteva tutte le date, distanze, lunghezze che riuscisse a ricordare. E ce n’erano tante.

Era seduta in riva al Lago Nero, i sandali slacciati buttati poco lontano e il viso solcato dalle lacrime. Come aveva potuto essere così ridicola? Così ingenua? Era ovvio che George non avrebbe fatto alcuna fatica a trovare un’altra, mentre lei… Lei non ce la poteva fare. Dopo la loro rottura (T/n) non era nemmeno stata in grado di aprire la bocca per diverse settimane.

-Non respiro! Non riesco a… a respirare, George! Mi sento soffocare, non ce la faccio più!

Il mascara di (T/n) si era sciolto a causa delle sue lacrime, le stesse lacrime che stavano bagnando il maglione di George.

-Ti prego, dimmi che cosa posso fare per aiutarti- mormorò lui carezzandole i capelli. Sentiva il cuore di (T/n) battere all’impazzata contro il suo petto e il suo respiro affannoso nell’orecchio.

(T/n) non sapeva come dirglielo, non sapeva come dirgli che aveva bevuto troppo ad una festa di Serpeverde e che pensava di essere stata stuprata da un ragazzo che non conosceva. Non lo sapeva, non riusciva a ricordare, e il cuore le si stava lentamente lacerando. Era così terrorizzata di aver perso la verginità con uno sconosciuto e per di più contro la sua volontà, che le sembrava impossibile respirare. Come poteva ammettere di aver tradito la fiducia della persona che amava? Come poteva ancora guardarlo negli occhi dopo quello che aveva fatto?

-(T/n), amore, ti prego, parlami.

-Voglio una pausa, George- riuscì a dire tra un singhiozzo e l’altro. (T/n) sentì il corpo del ragazzo irrigidirsi contro il suo.

-Cosa?

-Mi hai sentito. Ti prego, ti prego vattene.

(T/n) sentì la porta sbattere e il suo cuore spezzarsi nello stesso istante.

Il sapore amaro che le invadeva la bocca non era una novità: ogni volta che ripensava a quei terribili momenti la bile le ribolliva nello stomaco. Tempo dopo aveva scoperto che alla festa non era successo nulla e che tutti le avevano fatto credere di aver fatto qualcosa, quando invece non era vero.

Certo, aveva voluto dirlo a George, spiegargli perché aveva rotto con lui, raccontargli la verità una volta per tutte, ma lui sembrava non volerne sapere e (T/n) non poteva biasimarlo. Sicuramente qualcuno aveva fatto girare la voce e l’intera scuola era venuta a sapere quello che era accaduto.

(T/n) sentì dei passi avvicinarsi e vide una sagoma scura sedersi accanto a lei.

-Steve, senti, io…- cominciò girandosi verso la persona al suo fianco, ma, quando vide di chi si trattava, la frase le morì in bocca.

-Chi è Steve?- chiese George confuso.

-N-nessuno.- rispose (T/n) con la gola secca e lo stomaco stretto in una morsa di ghiaccio. George le sorrise mesto.

-Ti ho vista correre via, stai bene?

(T/n) rise tra sé e sé. No, non stava bene.

-Adesso t’importa?- ribatté guardandolo negli occhi. Solo in quel momento capì quanto le era mancato poterlo divorare con lo sguardo, senza doversi nascondere.

George cambiò espressione in un millisecondo.

-Mi è sempre importato, (T/n).

(T/n) sentì le lacrime bruciarle la gola, ma fece il possibile per trattenerle. Gli doveva una spiegazione.

-So che ci sono state delle orrende voci su di me in giro, ma voglio che tu sappia che non sono vere. Io non sono… andata a letto con nessuno quella sera.

George prese le gelide mani di (T/n) tra le sue, bollenti in confronto. –Lo so, io…

-Fammi finire.- lo interruppe (T/n) senza più preoccuparsi della propria voce rotta dal pianto. –Io avevo bevuto troppo, è vero. Ma quando avevano cominciato a dire che ero stata con Zachary Quebert, una ragazza è venuta da me e mi ha detto che era stata vicino a me tutta la serata e si ricordava perfettamente che non avevo nemmeno sfiorato quel tipo. Ma io ho avuto paura lo stesso. Non sapevo come dirtelo e ormai avevamo chiuso e… mi dispiace, George.

Lui la guardò negli occhi per la prima volta da quando aveva iniziato a raccontare e (T/n) poté vedere come anche lui stesse piangendo. George l’abbracciò forte, lasciando che le sue lacrime gli bagnassero la camicia. Passò una mano tra quei capelli così familiari e le baciò la fronte.

-Non pensare nemmeno per un attimo che sia colpa tua, perché non lo è.- le mormorò all’orecchio piangendo con lei.

-Non ho mai smesso di amarti, per quello che conta. Ci ho provato sul serio, ho provato con tutto me stesso a lasciarti andare, ma non ce l’ho mai fatta. Ti amo (T/n), ti amo da morire.

(T/n) si allontanò giusto per poterlo guardare negli occhi e immaginò che cosa avrebbe visto qualcuno che si fosse avvicinato a loro in quello momento: due ragazzi che piangevano stretti l’uno all’altra, seduti sulla ghiacciata riva di un lago. Se non fosse stato così straziante, sarebbe potuto sembrare quasi romantico.

-Anche io ti amo, George.

E così, nell’aria gelida di dicembre, dopo mesi interminabili e strazianti, le loro labbra s’incontrarono di nuovo. Fu un bacio disperato, un bacio che sapeva di malinconia, di lacrime, di paura. Quelli che seguirono, invece, sapevano di nuovi inizi, di speranze, di un passato condiviso.

Sì, il lieto fine non esisteva, (T/n) ne era certa, ma ciò non voleva dire che alcune storie non potessero avere un meraviglioso inizio.

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter immagina #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley x lettore #george weasley imagines #george weasley immagina #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley x reader

10 notes · View notes