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Marlene McKinnon + Fabian Prewett Moodboard
“Here's to us Here's to love All the times That we fucked up Here's to you Fill the glass Cause the last few days Have kicked my ass So lets give em hell Wish everybody well Here's to us Here's to us”
— Halestorm.
@fvbivnprcwctt
True Colors // Christopher & Fabian // January, 1980.
He hadn’t known where else to go. Home was out of question. He just couldn’t handle being questioned about what had happened to him, and it wasn’t like he could tell anyone the bloody truth except for Rowan. But Ro wasn’t at home, he knew that. He was sleeping over at his best friend’s place and Chris didn’t want to bother him.
He shouldn’t have gone out. He’d thought it might be a good opportunity, considering Ro wasn’t available and it was Saturday night. He was still very shy about going out to bars alone, but he’d figured it was a good way to start. He’d never planned on ending up making out with the cute waiter that offered to buy him a drink. And he’d never imagined that of all the people in the bar, it would be one of his old roommates from Hogwarts that would walk inside with a bunch of other people Christopher knew right in time to see him making out with another guy.
The rest had been a nightmare.
Marlene’s place was the closest, and the only place he felt like he could show up to. He and his sister weren’t that close, but he knew that she would let him stay for the night if he asked, without questions. And maybe he wouldn’t feel all that comfortable but he would feel safe.
When she opened the door, he couldn’t help but blurt out like a bloody idiot.
“Mar, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to...I just need...Could I stay...Can I come in....I...” his breath quickened and he felt hot tears on his cheeks as he started to have a panic attack again. Shit “Please, Mar I just...I...Oh...”
Another man peeked over Marlene’s shoulder curiously, cutting off Christopher’s hysterical babbling. The younger boy hurried to dry off his tears, looking down at his shoes.
“Sorry, I...I didn’t know you had company” he should have left, but he just had nowhere else to go, and in his state of anxiety, he just couldn’t afford to think selflessly “Please, Mar, I need to come in. They saw me. With him. And I…and they…” he hadn’t been able to finish the sentence, because he’d broken down crying and his sister had hurried him into the flat.
So that was how he’d ended up seating on his sister’s couch, waiting for her while she prepared a cup of tea for him, and under the watchful eye of the older bloke that was with Marlene in her apartment.
Chris sniffed, bouncing his leg compulsively. He just couldn’t stop panicking.
Fab and Marls dancing drunkenly on a table please :)
I Don’t Care, I Love It
Drinking pals Fabian Prewett and Marlene McKinnon.
@fvbivnprcwctt
VI Quote of the Week:
She’d never really thought of it that way before— Dumbledore being famous, and all. Oh, Merlin, and she’d yelled at him a couple of weeks ago! When he’d told her of his decision regarding students in the Order, when she’d announced she was leaving school. She’d yelled at the wizard who’d defeated Grindelwald. -- perennialgrace, Laughing at Clouds
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“I had fun” she finally admitted, lifting her head. She was still avoiding staring straight into Sirius’s eyes, but at least hers weren’t seemingly fixed to the floor anymore “I mean it. It was nice to get away from all of this…” she waved her hands around as if wanting to point at the whole world around them “Work, the war, the dangers…I really needed something like that, just leave all this shit behind at maximum speed, if only for a couple of hours. You gave me that today. Thank you”. -- cherrybomb-witch, The Runaways
Staring at the work that Igor had done, Narcissa wondered if she could match the twirling spirals of vines that Igor had so artfully created. She took a deep breath before she raised her wand, twisting her wrist ever so slightly. “Herba sculptura.” Narcissa kept her voice level, careful not to betray the nerves that lurked just below. One of her worst subjects in school had been Charms, and while she’d since grown out of school, her dislike for charms persisted. She had much preferred the more exact art of Transfiguration and Potions, the intuitiveness of Herbology - as her garden demonstrated. Still, the vines grew about the pillar, even as Narcissa attempted to envision what it was exactly she wanted them to do. -- forever-toujourspur, Winter Roses
It was a cosy little place, with flowers on each of the little tables and delicate looking chairs, all mismatched, with candlelight bouncing off the handmade ornaments hanging from the walls and ceiling. Almost at once a woman was with them greeting them and ushering them towards a table. But Fabian hesitated for a second, turning back to his companion. “Is this place alright? Do you like Thai food?” In reality, Fab didn’t even know if he liked Thai food, but it had food in the title, so he was willing to take the risk. -- fvbivnprcwctt, Samaritan
Princesses, Peas and (Im)Perfect Snogging || Marlene & Fabian || Jan. 12th, 1080.
*A.N: Title was totally inspired by “Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging” xD
Dear Mr. Fabulous,
I miss you, you hot mess. We should get a drink, life is being a bitch (as usual) and I just really, really, really need to get out with a friend. And who better than my wonderful, divine drinking partner? Please tell me you’re free tomorrow night. See you outside the Leaky at 21:30 or so?
You know you love me,
— Marls.
Marlene wrapped her cloak tighter around her frame as she walked down icy London on her way to the Leaky Caldron, watching her step so that her heels wouldn’t slip on one of the many layers of thin ice scattered on the sidewalk. Her hair fell in loose blonde waves down her back and shoulder, shielding her neck from the cold (she wasn’t really a fan of scarves when it came to nocturne getaways). Her white cloak dropped down to her knees, her velvet black boots being the only other visible piece of clothing. Her wand was tugged securely up the sleeve of her cloak.
When she arrived, the blonde toyed back and forth with the idea of going in or smoking outside while she waited for Fabian’s shift to be over. Deciding for the later, the witch rested her back against the wall and lit a cigarette, watching with dreamy eyes how the column of smoke danced against the street lights.
There was something so relaxing in smoking at night, especially when it was cold. In a way it was la inhaling fire, sending all sorts of warm forced down her throat and keeping the winter chill at bay. It was a private, yet not lonely thing because everyone knew to let a smoker smoke in peace, but at the same time anyone could walk to her and ask for a lighter, for example. It was like being and not being and it relaxed Marlene profoundly. God knew she needed to relax these days. The attacks, her abduction, her thoughts of transferring to the Auror unit, all added to her messy personal life had her waring thing. Hopefully, a night out with a good friend and drinking partner like Fabian would do just the trick to help her back on her vibe.
She was halfway done with her cigarette when Fabian appeared beside her. The little witch jumped a bit, startled since she had not heard her friend coming, but immediately took a last drag before throwing the rest of the cigarette and stepping on it with the heel of her foot, flashing a radiant, crimson clad smile to Fabian.
“Fabian! My love! The apple of my eye! The breath of my soul! The time we have spent apart has been a torture to my heart! Another second enduring your absence and I would have surely gone mad with grief and despair!” she cried out dramatically, hands over her chest. She then stood on the ends of her toes to leave a friendly smooch on her friend’s cheek before adding:
“You know, I’ve just noticed” she narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger at his friend’s face “You kind of look like that pretty boy from the December calendar my mum has in the kitchen” she teased, laughing at the memory of her horrified expression when she’d entered the kitchen at the McKinnon Manor and she’d seen Fabian’s smile hanging from the wall.
“Sooo…Where are we going tonight, Mr. Prewett?” lacing her arm with his like she used to do with Tamira Patil when they were still best friends at Hogwarts did with her sisters, they began walking up the street.
Ⓐ ;)
Send me Ⓐ and my muse will rate yours:
ATTRACTIVENESS:
repulsive ― hideous ― ugly ― not attractive ― unappealing ― not unattractive ― meh ― no preference ― ok ― mildly attractive ― nice looking ― cute ― adorable ― attractive ― pleasant on the eyes ― good looking ― hot ― sexy ― beautiful ― gorgeous ― hot damn ― would tap that ― perfect ― godlike ― holy fuck there are no words
PERSONALITY:
grating ― irritating ― frustrating ― boring ― confusing at best ― awkward ― unreasonable ― psychotic ― disturbing ― interesting ― engaging ― affectionate ― aggressive ― ambitious ― anxious ― artistic ― bad tempered ― bossy ― charismatic ― appealing ― unappealing ― creative ― courageous ― dependable ― unreliable ― unpredictable ― predictable ― devious ― dim ― extroverted ― introverted ― egotistical ― gregarious ― fabulous (THIS!)― impulsive ― intelligent ― sympathetic ― talkative ― up beat ― peaceful ― calming ― badass ― flexible
HOW LIKELY THEY WOULD BE TO HAVE SEX WITH THEM.
not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending (See: “Taken, gay or Fabian!”)― fuck no! ― never ― no way ― not likely ― not sure ― indifferent ― i’m asexual ― maybe ― probably ― it depends ― fairly likely ― likely ― yeah sure ― yes ― would tap that ― hell yes ― fuck yes! ― wishing that could happen right now ― as many times as possible ― we are already having sex
LEVEL OF FRIENDSHIP:
never in a million years ― worst of enemies ― enemies ― rivals ― indifferent ― neutral ― acquaintance ― friendly toward each other ― casual friends ― friends ― good friends ― best friends ― fuck buddies ― bosom buddies ― practically the same person ― would die for them ― true friends ― my only friend
*There should be a “drinking buddies”…
FIRST IMPRESSION OF THEM:
i hate them so much ― i don’t like them ― i don’t trust them ― they annoy me ― they’re weird ― i’m indifferent ― meh ― they seem alright ― they’re growing on me ― truce ― i think i like them ― i like them ― i’m not sure if i trust them ― i trust them ― they’re cool ― they’re genuine ― i think we’re going to get along ― i really like them ― i think i’m in love ― oh fuck they’re hot ― i love them
CURRENT IMPRESSION OF THEM:
i hate them so much ― i don’t like them ― i don’t trust them ― they annoy me ― they’re weird ― i’m indifferent ― meh ― they seem alright ― they’re growing on me ― truce ― i think i like them ― i like them ― i’m not sure if i trust them ― i trust them ― they’re cool ― they’re genuine ― i think we’re going to get along ― i really like them ― i think i’m in love ― oh fuck they’re hot ― i love them (platonically)
HOW GOOD OF A KISSER:
worst kisser ever ― terrible ― bad ― awkward ― just okay ― alright ― pretty good (I say we need to have them drunk kiss and then be totally “wtf” about it) ― good ― makes me moan ― excellent ― exciting ― oh god they’re good ― i dream about it ― fucking amazing ― absolute perfection ― we haven’t kissed
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VI Quote of the Week:
It wasn’t a milestone. Not really; no-one celebrated surviving over two decades. But it felt like one. Because no-one else had to actually work at it. Life carried them along like a gentle stream carries a leaf. Life had treated him like a plastic cup floating in the wide wild ocean. While he kept the water out he floated high easily, but all it took was a little too much water or one wave strong enough to tip him over and it would be a long sink. But Severus had learned how to bail emotional water at a young age, and now he was proficient at it. -- notlibatiusborage, Birthday Bumps
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Raising an eyebrow, she smirked up at Evan. Handsome as ever, with his annoyingly cute dimple about to dance on his cheek. Marlene had to struggle not to let the memory of their unusual game of chess make her blush. -- cherrybomb-witch, Flirting With Disaster
A single word and yet it conveyed a wealth of understanding. Now she knew, and it was that knowing that he craved. His entire existence resided in the shadows. For her he was a faceless horror, but at least he was one that she knew. One that she remembered. -- atwistedoutcast, Haunting
He sat and slid the second firewhiskey over to his friend. “It’s on the house, or er, on me, or both, I guess.” He nodded, rambling out of nervousness. He wanted to help, but he also didn’t want to intrude. He raised his own glass, about to make a toast, but then he couldn’t figure out a good way to phrase it, and you really couldn’t just blurt out ‘To dead parents!’ as the third sentence of a conversation. So he just nodded respectfully in toast and took a drink. -- fvbivnprcwctt, Whirlwind of Rubbish
Whirlwind of Rubbish || Edgar & Fabian || January 6th, 1980
Date: January 6th, 1980 Time: 4:30pm Location: The Leaky Cauldron
It was Zane’s birthday in a few days and they didn’t have a present for him yet. Somehow in the chaos of Christmas and the tragedy that came soon after New Years, they hadn’t gotten around to it. Edgar had volunteered to get it, stepping out the door with no clear ideas of what to buy his son in mind, but desperately wanting to get away from the house where the liveliness and action were almost stifling.
Now he found himself standing in the Leaky Cauldron, paused by the bar and staring at the back door that would lead him to Diagon Alley, finding his heart lacking the desire to take another step. Though he knew he shouldn’t, the escape found in a bottle felt more welcoming now than it had in a long time. The healers had told him that mixing alcohol with the potions he was taking was dangerous but right now that thought was more alluring than he was willing to admit aloud. He’d been talked out of throwing himself off a bridge only a few days before, but he could still hear that little voice in the back of his mind, louder now than it had ever been.
It made the decision for him and he couldn’t even bring himself to care that he was letting it win again. He ordered a whiskey, paying with a few of the coins meant for his son’s birthday present, ignoring his guilt as he did so. He already knew he was a terrible father, there was no point in worrying over that now.
Taking his drink, he moved to a secluded corner, away from the scattered crowd, not many people having accumulated this early in the day. Somehow, he found sitting alone with only a whiskey as company didn’t help his mood. Then again, he was starting to wonder if anything would help his mood. He’d bounced between miserable and depressed, sobbing and mind-numbing apathy in the days since his parents’ deaths but he hadn’t felt a tickle of happiness seep through yet. It was starting to feel like a distant dream he may never achieve.
He took a long swig of his whiskey after this thought, hunching forward over the table and staring down into the amber liquid. It didn’t seem like enough, but he supposed he should finish this one before going back for another. For now, he enjoyed the burn in his stomach as the alcohol slipped down his throat.
