bubblegum bitch.

the hair she’d tied at the back of her neck was a frayed mess by noontime. it was the only sign she’d ever leave on her that she was less put together than she’d forced people to believe, that she’d bitten off more than she could chew. but she would not let her coworkers taunt her for taking any time off after the hospital attack. they already did it without the extra cannon fodder. bunch of twats. she nibbled on the already gnawed bottom of her pen with another unused one tucked behind her ear, avoiding eye contact with the flutter of movement around her desk until she heard a clacking on the marble flooring that signified the coming of a woman. one of the only other ones that was ever around her neck of the ministry. and it was one of her favorites. as soon as she opened her mouth emmeline slammed down the file she had been working on onto her desk among the leaning towers encroaching in on her. the ones the bunch of twats had laden her with the moment she had gotten back. funny how they thought she was so incompetent but came running to her as soon as they had too much work they didn’t want to do themselves.

“you had me at treat and lunch. i’m thinking mimosas. you’re thinking mimosas, right?” she didn’t wait for an answer as she grabbed her bag strap from the back of her chair and slid it back so she could stand. “going out roberts, don’t wait up,” she said, quickly rounding her desk and heading for the door, ignoring the way the man behind her stammered as his head whipped up from his own desk. “if we’re talking smack, i’m starting with him,” she added as soon as they were clear of the threshold and headed towards the main lobby of the building.

ailyn was so very glad that she hadn’t started a ministry a career all those years ago. SURE, it would have given her more stability and status, but she knew that she’d not be able to deal with all the shit emmeline had to deal with. she already admired the other a lot -- as she did with most of her female friends, really -- but the fact that she plowed through these amounts of paperwork and dealt with so many horrid colleagues? it was amazing to her. “of course i’m thinking mimosas, who do you think i am? someone who drinks plain orange juice when going out for lunch?” 

ailyn was actively avoiding the topic of st mungo’s for now, knowing where emmeline had been during it. she worried about the other, yes, and was curious to hear how she was doing, sure,  but it could wait. these halls were hardly the right place to discuss these kind of things. in stead of bringing it up, she just waved at emmeline’s colleague with a fake smile on her lips and linked her arm with the other’s once they’d turned the corner. “ugh, what has he done this time?,” she asked, letting out a long sigh. “i mean, besides all the obvious stuff --- breathing too loudly, being an annoying presence, etcetera.” she was quite sure that if she had to work with someone like roberts every day, she’d silencio him after three hours, at the least. “please, complain my ears off. i want to hear it all.”

sturgis sat in the same stool he often took up when at that specific bar, a little bit of consistency he liked to think as ‘taking control over my life’ and not ‘having a regular seat at a bar is a clear habit of a drunk’. he’d remain in that denial for a lot longer than what was ideal. “ definitely. “ he looked at the woman next to him with slightly glazed over eyes - he’d had far more than one stiff drink, and likely would stay in his seat for many more hours, long day of work blending with long night and soon, with long morning, full of sleep and headaches and a sick feeling in him. such was the norm. “ can you believe some people get from work to home and that’s it ? they like, watch tv or read a book and sleep. fucking boring. curse me when that happens. “ his social skills after a fw glasses never ceased to surprise him. “ what- what’s your long day like ? what do you do ? NO, no, let me guess. “ he took a sip before dropping his glass somewhat ungracefully back on the counter, face focused really intensively on her. “ you’re an unspeakable. wait, wait - i’ve seen you at the prophet, right ? you don’t work there. i’ve… yeah. “ 

the other was clearly more inebriated than she was. ailyn’s tolerance was high, as was her self control, and she wasn’t the biggest fan of getting drunk in the first place ( it always triggered memories of her dad, and she’d feel incredibly gross the day after because of it ). she didn’t it too much, though ---- she recognised him as sturgis, after all, and she knew he was a good guy. there weren’t many of those, these days. “that’s a terrible way to live! i mean, i love my job, and everything, but for my job to become my entire life? i’d never want such a thing.” she shivered, dramatically. “i’ll bring you to the psych ward at st. mungo’s if that were to ever happen, promise.” ailyn took a sip from her drink, laughing a little as he tried to figure out her job by looking at her intensely. “i wish i had the skill to be an unspeakable.” she’d still not choose to do that job if she had the skill, but still. “i kind of work for the prophet, i guess? i write background articles, sometimes. i’m a historian --- my own boss, and all.” a pause. “and you’re one hell of a reporter.”

lazily lounging on the midnight blue sofa opposite her friend’s marlene gazes up at ailyn, studying her movements throughout the room as she takes another sip from the glass in her hand ( vodka on the rocks ). ❝ gossip? ❞ smirk playing on soft lips, yet another sip taken from the glass when her gaze is diverted to the ceiling. voice humming along to the tune playing briefly as thoughts carefully touch on sirius’ hands exploring her body. the smirk currently on her lips turning into a soft smile momentarily before she waves away the thought. but the telling warmth that spreads through her limbs a tell-tale sign, should the other have known of it. ❝ my life is hardly much more interesting than yours, A ❞ she lies, it comes easily to her now even if they tasted sour on her tongue. this was breaking age old loyalty that had been forged when they were children. ❝ there’s the flint situation and then there’s the other trail of handsome suitors that follow me around. other than that? not much gossip worthy. ❞

“bullshit.” ailyn sits up a little, eyes narrowing. she has caught the slight smile on marlene’s lips. she can read body language quite well, thanks to her parents, whose lies were easily spotted by everything they didn’t say, but did in stead, and she’s not planning on letting it go. she doesn’t speak for a moment, though, in stead pours herself another drink, eyes flashing to marlene every now and then. “come on, mckinnon, you don’t look the way you do without having loads of gossip to share.” she takes a sip from her glass, leans back onto the sofa, a grin appearing on her lips. “tell me about the flint situation, then. those twins are ... certainly intriguing.” mind flashes to lemon, her grin turning into more of a smile. “and these handsome suitors ... DO enlighten me. or amuse me another way, whichever you prefer. i just need some light entertainment.” 

and so she was sat at a bar, a glass of scotch in front of her, her shoulders still tight from all the work she’d done. she turned to the person next to her. “nothing quite like a stiff drink after a long day of work, hmm?”

[ 9:08 AM ] liam -> ailyn: not only did you rap a voicemail to me last night…. but it lasted so long that it cut you off so you called back to finish….. never do this again

[ 9:09 AM ] liam -> ailyn: you’re lovely lyn, but i’ve got to draw the line somewhere. and bad rapping is that line.

[ 11:32AM ] AILYN >> LIAM: please tell me you didn’t delete that voicemail, because that sounds amazing and i need to hear it

[ 9:02 PM ] Em -> Ailyn: If he flies out here I will sleep with him. I have morals, but not when it comes to southern accents

[ 9:04PM ] AILYN >> EM: are we talking southern accents as in american, european or british? because i have a southern accents, if we’re talking british, and i have to agree: they’re sexy.

[ 3:08 PM ] maya >> ailyn: that’s a really good way to look at it [ 3:09 PM ] maya >> ailyn: even as the best bi i still prefer girls to guys because wow girls are goddesses

            she LAUGHED,   removing the pins from her hair and letting it fall out of the intricate bun it’d been in for the event,   shaking it out and brushing a hand through it before reaching out and lacing their fingers together,   squeezing tight.   ❝   oh hush a,   you always look mad   ———   resting bitch face and all that.   we should start a hashtag for that,   bring awareness to the issue because LOOK i’m sure a ton of people have the same problem and like it’s a real issue you know,   something like hashtag nice bitches with resting bitch face or something,   no that’s horrible i’m   ———   sorry.   off topic.   ❞   she leaned over and placed a sloppy kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek,   pulling back and giggling at the purple lipstick stain she’d left.   she was a little DRUNK,   had more than a few glasses of champagne after the red carpet,   had a tendency to get tipsy at these kinds of things,   had always hated this part of being a celebrity.  ❝   yeah fuck what they say.   you look AMAZING,   as always.   i cannot believe i landed such a babe,   ❞   she tugged her closer,   free hand coming to cup her face,   ❝   i love you.  ❞

       lemon spoke a few words, and ailyn found herself chuckling at her silliness --- sure, this was a problem, and something to be angry about. but not now. she was standing in an elevator now, with her gorgeous girlfriend. to waste her energy on tabloid reporters would be nothing short of a WASTE. “i do, don’t i? i cannot help it --- the world’s just sooo enraging. and we should, that’s actually a really good idea.” she got out her phone, opened her notes and ticked in a few words. “but we can do it tomorrow, or the day after that ... or the day after THAT.” ailyn wasn’t any more sober than lemon, but she often slipped into the role of being an angry drunk ( probably because she was just quick to anger in general ), but she felt herself slipping out of it. her fingers reached to her cheek to rid her skin of the stain, but she decided against it at the last moment, leaving it there. “and you look even MORE amazing. if you don’t get best dressed, i will start a riot.” she was beaming, snaked her arms around lemon and gave her a kiss on the lips. “i love you too.” 

AILYN WILKES is NEUTRAL in the war, even though HER official job is as A HISTORIAN the TWENTY FIVE year old PUREBLOOD is known to be INTELLIGENT and STEADFAST but also INDIFFERENT and HAUGHTY. some might label them as THE WISEACRE.

INSPO: pinboard and stats page.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: emotional and physical abuse/manipulation, (parental) alcholism.