Waverley McAllister

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Be My Plus One? // Waves & JP

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mccoyjp‌:

“Don’t worry I won’t let him hear me.” He shook his head with a chuckle. He couldn’t think of himself as one to wear a kilt even if it were a traditional thing in Scottish tradition. “Why must you tease me,McAllister?” He questioned her knowing that’s exactly what she was doing at this point.

“Why must I tease ye, McCoy?” Waverley raised a quizzical yet playful eyebrow as she glanced in her best friend’s direction. “Simple... Because yer me brother. It’s me job to tease ye.” She explained, sticking her tongue out at him. He was the closest thing she had to a living brother; and she would forever treat him as such.

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Be My Plus One? // Waves & JP

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mccoyjp‌:

JP smirked at his friend before shaking his head at her next question. “I don’t think I ever will,McAllister.” He stuck his tongue out at her teasingly. While he didn’t like the idea of a kilt he’d pretty much do anything for her. “I don’t doubt you do.” He said shaking his head again.

"Don’ let me papa hear ye say that... Or yer new nickname will be ‘lassie’.” Waverley could 100% picture her father referring to JP as ‘lassie’ if he ever heard him admit he’d never be man enough to sport a kilt. Rhys McAllister was big on Scottish tradition, especially the one where men wore kilts during holidays and special events, such as charity galas. “One kilt won’t hurt ye, ye ken. Plus I’m sure I could find one to match yer eyes.” Again, she made it obvious she was teasing. Teasing JP was her favorite thing to do other than read or play chess.

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Be My Plus One? // Waves & JP

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mccoyjp‌:

JP chuckled at her response. Yes her father did intimidate him but he dealt with fear constantly at his own house. “You know I’m always willing to save you from an evening of boredom,McAllister.” He smiled at her, Him saving her from boredom meant that he would be too. So really it was a win for both of them. “Hm I like this idea more and more.” 

"I thought ye would.” Waverley couldn’t help but chuckle; and her chuckle deepened as she thought about where she was going to next take this conversation. “Now about what ye’ll be wearin’... Have ye finally manned up enough to sport a kilt?” She was joking. Mostly. While her current goal in life was to get JP into a traditional Scottish kilt at some point, she’d never force him to wear such a thing if he wasn’t comfortable. “I still have the one with the matchin’ tam for ye.”

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Be My Plus One? // Waves & JP

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mccoyjp‌:

Hearing his name being called by the familiar tone of his sister from another JP slowed his pace so she could catch up. “Of course I’ll be your plus one.” Granted it was short notice but he didn’t care as long as it was something for her. A shudder ran through his body as she mentioned haggis. “I’d appreciate that.” He chuckled. “Why wouldn’t I say yes?” 

"Um... Because me papa intimidates ye?” Waverley knew her father was quite the interesting man. He was also the reason she didn’t have many friends. His protectiveness of her mixed with his overall fear factor kept most at bay. But not JP. He was really her only friend willing to show up at the McAllister estate. Anyone else she called a friend was far too scared... Which is why JP wasn’t just her friend. He was her brother. “But I’m glad ye’ll be there. Saves me from an evenin’ o’ boredom.” Not that she’d truly be bored. If JP couldn’t come, she’d merely lock herself in the estate’s library after making her expected appearance at the party. And she could never be bored in a library. “An’ o’ course yer welcome to stay the night... An’ pick the film since I made ye sit through the extended edition o’ The Hobbit last time.”

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Be My Plus One? // Waves & JP

@mccoyjp​

​“McCoy!” Waverley called out as she spotted her brother from another mother across the campus quad. Once she had his attention and was close enough where she no longer needed to yell, she spoke up again. “So me papa’s throwin’ a charity gala next Saturday in honor o’ Mental Health Awareness Month; an’ o’ course I’d love for ye to be me plus one... Apologies it’s such short notice.” Usually she invited JP to such events a month or two in advance; but her father had been between two dates for this specific gala that she’d not known the exact date until that morning. “I promise ye no one will try an’ feed ye haggis this time... Save tha’ for the holidays.” She chuckled, thinking back to how she tried to get him to have at least a bite of haggis on days such as St. Andrew’s Day, Burns Night, and Hogmanay. “Now ye best say ‘yes’ or I’ll drag yer numpty arse there kickin’ an’ screamin’. No shame, mo bhràthair.”

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