#(felt so good to write another entry to this. been three years since the last hehe) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cha-ra-nui · 6 months ago

Text

2024 Retrospective

Part 7: Awards Section

Song of the Year:

Tatsuya Kitani x Natori – Iranaimono (Chained) The question was never if Tatsuya Kitani would get a SOTY nomination, it was only ever which song would get it. “Fatale”? “Preview Of Me?”? Anything of the “Roundabout” album? “Chained” is necessarily better than any of those, but it’s what my ADHD brain decided to focus on. I had it on repeat since it released in November, and I think I like it more now than I did two months ago. Tatsuya Kitani’s and natori’s voices sound great together and the hand-off between them is very satisfying.

Queen Bee – Super Memorial Every time Queen Bee makes it onto the shortlist I’m happy about it, because somehow they’re almost always one of the final cuts I make. Not this year. “Super Memorial” is too much of a banger. Avu-chan is a great producer, they wrote my SOTY pick too, but their day job is singing in a rock band that fucking slaps.

Nemo – The Code Does it count if I only like a live version? No? Good. Then there’s no Eurovision song in my SOTY nominees, lucky me.

Kenshi Yonezu – Red Out Consider this an apology for having missed “Shinigami” in 2021. That absolutely should’ve been up for SOTY. “Kick Back” too, come to think of it. I never really felt like I’d need to sing his praises because everyone else already was. But what does that matter, when the praise is so well deserved?

Winner: Ryugujo – Deep Wave

This is everything I could ever want from a JPop song. Extremely catchy chorus? Check! Vocal harmonies? Check! Lush instrumental track? Check! Puts a smile on my face every time I hear it? You bet it does! “Deep Wave” really is the song I hoped but didn’t dare to expect to get out of Ryugujo so soon after their debut. They have other songs I liked a lot, but this was the first one I considered SOTY material immediately. In a better year it would be an honorable mention, but the more the year dragged on and one disappointing release after another dropped the more I wanted this to remain on top. Because this song brings exactly the energy that was sorely missing in KPop this year, and it brings it in an entire cargo train full of spades. Whenever I started to doubt that KPop could live up to my expectations I went back to this as a reminder that idol pop can be great. It can have energy, it can be creative, it can sound lush and intense and visceral and clean in all the right ways.

Album of the Year:

Ryugujo – Deep Wave This being an EP is the only reason why it’s not winning. It’s much easier to make a great EP than a great album, and unlike last year I actually have full albums up for the title. That said, no other release this year is this strong this consistently. I still care for the worst song on this EP.

Tatsuya Kitani – Roundabout “Scar” is his worst song. I will not accept questions at this time. Apart from that though this is a strong album. What else did you expect, I’ve been praising this guy’s writing, singing, production, and composition skills at multiple points in this retrospective. He’s incredibly consistent. “Where Our Blue Is” may be the best song on this album, but it’s far from the only standout track.

Winner: Kenshi Yonezu – Lost Corner The only problem with this album is that it’s too long. I wish I could write a proper review for it, see how it measures up to the other entries in my spreadsheet, but I can’t focus for twenty songs in a row. But it’s been a while since I heard a full album this consistently good.

Artist of the Year:

Look guys my condition is “have at least two releases I like” and there’s exactly one artist who cleared that condition this year, so no honorable mentions, just: Winner: Tatsuya Kitani Like I said. This guy just doesn’t miss. He made three anime openings this year and they’re all great. His album slaps. Every single song he released this year is worth checking out. He’s credited for “Words & Music & Arrangement & All Instruments” on most of his songs because that is normal.

Miscellaneous:

Top 10 B-sides (one entry per artist):

Ryugujo – Late Show

Key – Overthink

Onew – Maestro

Kenshi Yonezu – Tomaremiyo

Ten – Dangerous

NMIXX – Run For Roses

Purple Kiss – Encore

ONF – Aphrodite

aespa – Kill It

TripleS – Beyond The Beyond

Best Insert Song: Arcane – Ashes and Blood (any song from Arcane really)

Anime Of The Year: Dandadan

Opening Of The Year:

Oshi no Ko OP 2

Mashle OP 2

Link Click OP 3

Here’s the dilemma:

“Bling Blang Bang Born” is incredibly catchy, and the type of joke song that only gets funnier the more you hear it. It came out almost a year ago and I haven’t grown sick of it yet. I’m also partial towards openings that stylize their animation, and this one is super memorable for it.

“Fatale” isn’t my favorite Tatsuya Kitani song this year, but it’s still a Tatsuya Kitani song and the animation is great. The theatre framing was a perfect fit for this season. And as usual when this guy is involved the lyrics are a perfect fit too.

Finally, “The Eye” is a Link Click opening, and this show has a reputation to live up to. Every opening so far was great in different ways, and all by the same band too. And this one hurts. They dropped this on YouTube before the season even had a release date and the fandom has yet to recover from the emotional gut punch.

Ending Of The Year: Oshi No Ko ED 2

Movie Of The Year: Dune Part 2

7 notes · View notes

defira85 · 6 months ago

Text

FIC WRITING REVIEW 2024

Thank you to @iapetusneume for tagging me!

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some qualitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either. Artists and gif makers, please also join in with any quantitative or qualitative stats or facts you want to share about your year.

Words and Fics

6 fics published

411, 630 words (yeah baby we're BACK)

Top 3 Pairings Relationships

The Dark Urge/Enver Gortash

Gale Dekarios/Female!Tav

on a technicality for having the most chapters written about them in a multi-character fic, Astarion Ancunin/Female!Tav which I am a little annoyed at myself for. That boy has plenty of fics about him, I need to do better

Top 5 by Comments

Keep Telling Me To Breathe (177 threads, 376 total)

A Heart As Cold As Ice (68 threads, 127 total)

(And So) My Heart Became a Void (58 threads, 113 total)

Not All That Glitters (37 threads, 78 total)

A Girl Called Midnight (10 threads, 20 total)

Top 5 by Kudos

Keep Telling Me To Breathe (270)

A Heart As Cold As Ice (71)

Not All That Glitters (49)

I Love You, Franc (34)

(And So) My Heart Became a Void (30) TIED WITH:

A Girl Called Midnight (30)

Top 5 by Hits

Keep Telling Me To Breathe (6851)

A Heart As Cold As Ice (1257)

Not All That Glitters (807)

(And So) My Heart Became a Void (739)

I Love You, Franc (219)

KTMTB really is the monster outlier fic huh. It's my Spiders Georg

Fandom Events in 2024

Gortash Week July 2024 - what an absolute blast this was. So much good stuff that week! Excellent fics! Amazing art! Great edits! Good good friends! I had so much fun with this week AND managed to post my first three entries while undergoing a monstrous day of travel from Alaska to Vancouver to Brisbane and then home.

Gortoween 2024 - My plans for fic didn't pan out BUT I did post one of my first ever big art projects, reimagining Gortash and my Durge Kassara in the movie Constantine

BG3 Villianmas - Another event where I tried my hand at art instead of writing! I threw together four pieces in total for the Villain Christmas prompts, and to the surprise of nobody it was all Gortash art

BG3 Winter Big Bang - This one is in progress, but I signed up last year and I had my first check in a few weeks ago. I'm being overly ambitious and attempting fic AND art, we'll see how much that shoots me in the foot haha

Writing Reflection

I rediscovered myself this last year thanks to BG3. I really do feel like I was in a creative coma for four years which, valid, life has been incredibly traumatic as a health care worker since 2020 for obvious reasons. And not just writing but learning how to be an artist as well!

It's not just that I rediscovered HOW to write again and found my motivation, but I fell in love with the act of being creativity and the joy of writing, and more than that, I fell in love with fandom as a community again. Making new friends, being brave enough to message people. Persevering with posting even when it felt like I was talking to the void in the early days (we've all talked a lot about how fandom has changed so I won't rehash it here) and trying to help shut that void up for other people.

I'd like to have time to read more fics in 2025, and continue to engage in community. It's been incredibly invigorating taking part in events again, I haven't done it in over a decade and I'm just so delighted by it

I want to do the Friday Reviews thing that I reblogged earlier, and uplift more writers. I want to do more art, learn how to do actual lineart instead of painting everything because it takes so fucking long. And I hope to bring a little bit of joy and excitement to others that the last year has brought to me

Tagging @flamemittens @elinorbard (did you already do this one? I can't remember) @chronurgy @sankttealeaf and anyone else who feels confident enough to share their stats with the class! Be brave!

#Defira Does a Meme

13 notes · View notes

thatoldstandby · 6 months ago

Text

Games of the Year 2024 because why not

So, this is unusual for this place, but uh.

I spent a lot of time on video games this year, and I feel like I have to write something to make up for it because otherwise. Eesh. Plus I want to write a thing more often this year, and this will be the first/second, depending on when I finish it up. Below the cut, I'll start with some games I'd still like to play or play more of; honorable mentions because I played a lot of things I loved and they don't fit in the top, and a top 5, because who has time for 10 games (please ignore the above numbers).

THINGS YET TO BE FINISHED

Here's a list of games I haven't touched, haven't completed, or haven't done enough of a Think to figure out where it stands. I'd love to get to any of these, and probably will. Unless I forget.

Nine Sols, Lorelai and the Laser Eyes, Arco, Cryptmaster, Metaphor ReFantazio, Indiana Jones and the Great Circle, Unicorn Overlord, Indika, Slitterhead, Fate/Stay Remaster, Kunitsu-Gami: Path of the Goddess, Metal Slug Tactics, Caves of Qud, Arctic Eggs, Sorry We're Closed, probably some other stuff I'm forgetting.

HONORABLE MENTIONS in no particular order

Trails in the Sky FC and SC: This was the year I started my Trails journey. Luckily, it kicks off pretty nicely. Trails in the Sky FC is a fun, fairly generic JRPG with an entirely too lovable cast. Estelle is real and my friend. And then the last hour happens, and my interest is piqued immediately. And then SC is great, telling a compelling story with the cast of goobers you now care for and expanding the world expertly. And then the last hour happens again, and I'm super excited to keep delving into the world of Liberl. What an excellent throwback that fully explains why it's existed for twenty years.

Like a Dragon: Infinite Wealth: Ichiban is real and my friend. I've been playing the Yakuza games since Yakuza 0 was first released, and then I needed a depression/mindless work game series to plow through while working my way through law school, and let me tell you. There's nothing more perfect than a series where there's always something new and the city barely changes between instances. The Ichiban games are similarly excellent, and wonderful JRPGs in their own right, but this one took the cake by also acting as a conclusion (for now) to Kiryu's story that completely nailed everything it needed to. I think it got a little out there in the final hours, but I was still along for the ride to the end. What a game. Dondoko Island is basically another game inside of it.

Balatro: Jimbo is real and my friend. It's Balatro. It's probably the single best designed game loop of anything released this year. It doesn't do a lot for me, personally, in that I like it and appreciate the artistry behind it, but I haven't lost my life to it at any point this year. Good game, highly suggested, not fully my cup of tea. That soundtrack is excellent though.

Conscript: So I played three Resident Evil (PSX) style survival horror games this year. I felt that one of them was pretty bad, and so won't talk about it here. But Conscript? Conscript hit just right. Set in the trenches of Verdun during WWI, it's an excellent survival horror game that eschews the stereotypical supernatural elements attached to the genre in a way that makes it work. It's got just enough of a narrative pull to get you through the game as well. Absolutely worth looking at if you're a fan of classic survival horror.

Rise of the Golden Idol: The Case of the Golden Idol was one of the best written mystery games I've ever played; one I'd put right up there with Return of the Obra Dinn. The DLC was still good, but less than the main game; not only was it weirdly difficult, but something just felt... off? about it. Luckily, Rise was just as good as the original game, and an excellent second entry. If you haven't played the Golden Idol series but love mysteries, then by all means, you should play it. It's really good. I don't think I like Rise quite as much as Case, but that's mostly quibbling about hairsbreadth differences at this point.

Final Fantasy XIV: Dawntrail: I dunno, it's FFXIV. It's kind of a lodestone in my life at this point. And while Dawntrail was certainly not the best expac of the game, that's less to do with the quality of Dawntrail itself (which is mostly fine, with some shockingly clunky pacing issues, some off-sounding writing, and some poor VA direction for some of the scenes) and more to do with the one-two punch that is Shadowbringers and Endwalker. There's still a bunch to love about this game, and Tuliyolal and the surrounding environs are just so cool to me for a lot of reasons. Plus my static is cool and I love hanging out with them twice a week.

Threshold: I just played this last week? And I'm still thinking about it? What a weird, weird little thing.

BEST GAME OF SIGNALIS (2022)

Signalis (2022)

A highly prestigious award that Signalis has won every year since release. Excellent work Signalis. Keep up the good work.

TOP FIVE GAMES OF 2024 (AS OF ROUGHLY RIGHT NOW

5. Crow Country

The other Resident Evil (PSX) style survival horror I played this year! It's excellent, a tightly designed and paced adventure set in a creepy environment with a unique art style. The game controls really interestingly as well; adding a fun modern layer onto such an obvious retro love letter. It might have ranked higher on my list; but some of the puzzles (notably the mushroom puzzle) were actively bad and I haven't forgiven it.

4. Tactical Breach Wizards

I've been a fan of the Defenestration Trilogy since I first played the original Gunpoint back in 2013. Then, it was a neat, well written comedy stealth action game. I even liked the follow-up Heat Signature, though that had less writing and more of a focus on the gameplay loop, which was OK, but not mindblowing. So when the developer Tom Francis announced he was working on the third of the unrelated trilogy, and that it was called Tactical Breach Wizards, I was instantly excited and willing to wait for as long as it took. And it took a while. But when it came out? It was excellent. It is a strong tactical combat game centered around pushing enemies around a map, ideally out of windows. On top of that, it might be one of the best written games of the year. It had the unenviable narrative task of balancing around a SWAT-esque team of characters without falling too far into copaganda or falling for tacticool problems. Luckily, it not only does that, but is genuinely one of the funniest games I've played in a while. Utterly strong comedy writing, which is something that you don't come across in games often. Also, fuck Steve, no one likes Steve.

3. UFO 50

Most games have trouble getting down one or two gameplay loops. So the guy behind Spelunky, one of the best action rogue-likes, was like, I'm going to make that problem fifty times harder by releasing fifty different games as one. And then the madman did it; and he didn't just do it, he did it well. The concept behind UFO 50 is that it's a collection of 50 games that was a lost developer's entire back catalog originally released in the 1980s. So, UFO 50 is literally just 50 NES style games for you to peruse and play. It is an amazingly impressive feat of both game design and historical understanding. By hour count, it's the game that I've spent the most time in by such a large margin it's astounding. I don't even love all the games; but I love enough that there's always something more. It's such an amazing little package.

2. 1000xRESIST

A latecomer to this list, 1000xRESIST is... a lot. At a basic level, it's a narrative exploration game where you explore a world, chat to people, and "enjoy" a story being told. And what a story. It's about so much. Isolation, resistance, memory, familial trauma (and the continuation thereof), expectations, being a teenager, the things you carry forward.... Fuck, there's a lot, and it hit me in a very particular place that was difficult to continue at parts, but that's a sign of quality in a story. It ends astoundingly, and I love it very much. If there's one negative thing I can say about it, it's that it's a pretty ugly game. I try not to focus on that too much; but my god the models. It's really a shame, because there's some striking art design at play, and the use of colors is among the best I've seen this year. But those models are bad. Hekki Allmother; red to blue.

Mouthwashing

Fuckin'. Mouthwashing. Another narrative game, but where 1000xRESIST is a narrative sword, full of heft and weight, Mouthwashing is a scalpel. It is a tightly edited, highly focused that gets in to do what it wants, cuts through you with the cold horror and understanding of what it's going for, and then gets out. I played it myself after watching one (1) TikTok; I streamed it for a friend like two weeks later; I watched numerous streamers playthrough it; and then I played through it again with another friend. What an astounding piece of media, with some of the best cinematography I've seen in an embarrassingly long time. Just. Astounding.

#goty 2024 #writing project #boy that's a lot of words #would probably look better with images interspersed #ah well that's too much work

5 notes · View notes

aerithsage · 2 months ago

Text

Hello Writing World, I'm Back

Hey there. It's been a while since I've written a blog entry.

I think my last blog was when I actually quit writing. That was a few years ago and here I am... back to writing.

So where do I start?

Maybe a small trip down memory lane to compare then vs now.

I started writing on Wattpad back in 2012. It was the year I graduated as a nurse and also took the board exams. We have to wait for a few months before the results come out. During that break, I found myself reading tons and tons of books. And then one day, I had a dream and when I woke up I was like, "I have to write this down."

And I did.

I posted the story on Wattpad. Like any other writer, the growth was slow at the start. I wrote Fantasy stories and Fantasy was not the most popular genre on Wattpad. Back in 2012, the popular books were mostly YA or NA books.

Then, I wrote The Billion-Dollar Marriage Contract and that was my first successful book. The reads, votes, and comments started rolling in. And as I was writing it, the readers who discovered me through TBDMC also started reading my fantasy books. Later on, my fantasy books became more popular than my Billionaires series.

But life happened and I grew up from a college graduate to an adult with a job and responsibilities.

When I started, I wrote one chapter per day and had three ongoing books. I wrote long chapters but still posted daily. Creativity was flowing and I didn't care if my books had no outline, tons of grammatical errors, no continuity checks. Back then, I just wrote the story inside my head. The chapter posted per day is equivalent to what my mood actually was.

As time passed, I found myself having less and less time to write.

As responsibilites piled up, the time and will to write became less and less.

Also, the online community back then was toxic. Everyone abused inline comments and hate towards characters flowed to hate towards writers. Aside from that, there was also tons of mirror sites copying Wattpad without the copy-paste protection so our precious works were getting stolen.

And one day, it just became too much and I quit.

I wrote more about it in my blog titled "Why Writing Doesn't Feel the Way it Used To"

I wrote that blog post 6 years ago. And for 6 years, I quit writing online. I still read books. I still opened up my notes where I kept all my ideas and added to it.

I still wrote a bit behind the scenes when I felt nostalgic but I never posted it. During those 6 years, I kept myself busy with my career. I wanted to make a name for myself and keep earning so I can live a good life. I poured everything into making sure I did my work right and climbing up the ladder.

Another big change is that I got married.

Now, 6 years forward... what's changed?

First, the career grind paid off. I now work at a small law firm as a legal administrator (super far from Nursing, I know. lol) I love my work and I love my co-workers. Time is also flexible so it gives me time to write.

At first, I didn't really want to come back to my AerithSage account because I felt there was too much pressure. It's like all my unfinished stories were screaming at me along with my readers. Also, if I just scrapped them all and started new stories, I felt like a lot of people would be mad.

So I made a new Wattpad account. For a few months, I wrote under AlexisAstor and not as AerithSage. And it felt great! No pressure. No stress. No toxic readers.

I was back to earning my readers one by one and each one of them who read my book, "The Queen of the Ravaged" I was thankful for. It felt like writing in 2012 again where everyone was supportive and new books were given a chance.

At the same time, writing as AlexisAstor gave me my confidence back. I used to think I didn't have the skill to write anymore after going away for so long. I thought my readers would surely leave me after realizing I'm not good enough and I can't write fast enough anymore. But through this new account, new people followed me. New people told me they liked my story. New people gave me a chance.

It remade my broken self-confidence.

It was so good a feeling that I finished writing The Queen of the Ravaged in about 3 weeks. That was another confidence boost. Maybe I could really still do this after all.

Another thing is that I also reached out to some old friends from the writing community. One of them was JaysArmy. And Jay, bless her heart, is the most supportive, most loyal, most amazing friend anyone can ask for.

She helped me pick up the pieces. She became my hype girl. She helped me start again. She helped me dream again.

And so I went back to AerithSage.

I opened old drafts, read them again, and started writing. At the same time, I explored different apps to find my next home. Radish was not it. Tapas was also not it. I didn't want people to pay per chapter because some chapters were fillers and were meant to be shorter to build up the next chapters.

And that's how I decided on Inkitt and Patreon. I could have different tiers of amounts and people can choose what they can afford. Also, it's not paying per chapter but a monthly subscription.

The $4.99 tier gives access to all my ongoing and completed works. The $2.99 tier gives access to all my previously completed works.

Someone can subscribe for $2.99 and that's good for one month and binge-read all my books to make the most of their susbcription. I felt like that was a good and fair price.

And so far, everything's been okay. What I mean is what I earn from Inkitt and Patreon is not yet enough to replace my day job but there is opportunity for growth. I am thankful for each subscriber I have because with each one, I'm closer to my dream of writing full time.

So for everyone who's still here, I am back. And I am here to bring more of the stories inside my head.

I've finished writing The Heart of a King and also finished rewriting How to be a Queen.

This time around, I'll monitor the comments more carefully. I won't let people be toxic or hurtful. Even though it's hard, I will spend time to moderate my comments section. Also, this time around, I'll let you guys know when things get too tough.

I was burnt out before because I kept it all to myself. Life's problems, writing world problems, friend problems, and even love problems I kept to myself. I didn't want to show anyone any emotion because it felt like everyone was judging me and laughing at me.

I'm stronger now and more mature. I've been through tough times and survived thanks to people who were there for me.

Thank you also, my dear readers, for still being here when I returned. That was one of the craziest feelings. It brought me so much joy seeing usernames I recognized who were commenting again.

So if you're still here and reading this, thank you.

Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart.

This is already super long but maybe in another day, I'll write another blog post discussing what changed from writing then vs now. There's sooo many things to talk about like AI, the community, the trends, and so much more.

That's it for now. Until next time!

Love lots, AerithSage

#blog #wattpad #writing #amwriting #inkit #patreon #aerithsage

3 notes · View notes

stevetown · 1 year ago

Text

Final Fantasy VII: Rebirth

Playtime: 59h 29m Completed: April 17, 2024

I put off writing this entry because I didn't want to admit to myself that I really did not care for Rebirth. Remake was my favorite game of the last decade, and I rarely get hyped for new titles nowadays, so to swallow the bitter pill and admit the last four years of hype were wasted...hurts.

It happened sometime around Costa Del Sol. After a lengthy chapter involving a card tournament, which itself was followed by a chapter whose climax hinges on a rhythm game parade segment, here was another chapter where you had to complete multiple required mini-games to get tickets to dress our favorite cast of destiny defiers for the beach. On its face, Rebirth should have been exactly what I was looking for. I love these characters so much that just hanging out at the game's equivalent of Atlantic City should have been an easy slam dunk for me. And there are good, if fleeting, character moments to be found here!

But at this point in the game, it became apparent there's no pathos and no forward momentum pulling the party forward other than "I guess we'll bumble around looking for black robed figures." It's a confusing approach to the middle chapter considering even the original was so clear about the stakes for each character and what they were after once they left Midgar. Remake was also so keen on engaging with our knowledge of the original's plot. "You can't fall in love with me" sent me reeling. Rebirth offers no such assurance that it knows nor cares about what's coming.

Emotional catharsis is nowhere to be found. Character moments like Barrett and Dyne's reunion and Red XIII's Cosmo Canyon homecoming are offensively brief, having little to no lead up and no follow through indicating those events had a lasting impact on anyone. The few beats where the game does take swings and add new material are almost never talked about amongst the cast, leading to narratively clashing moments that left us scratching our heads and screaming at the screen for anyone to talk about anything of importance. Whenever the game begins to build any kind of emotional crest, you can count on it falling short of a satisfying conversational resolution if it wasn't interrupted by Yuffie screaming about materia for the thousandth time this chapter.

It's not all bad. There's good stuff here with Cloud and Tifa's relationship. Vincent and Cid's character introductions are highlights that got some good belly laugh's and felt like old school Remake character magic. The second visit to the Gold Saucer got the waterworks going. The combat is more of the same, which is to say fairly good, but it's hard to keep all of the character play styles straight in your head and the Folio system is the worst character upgrade system since Final Fantasy II.

Then there's the climax, which I'm honestly too exhausted to get into. It's not that I hate the idea of what they're going for here, but during the moment where the game needed clarity the most it decided to muddle the message and leave us shrugging more than salivating for part III. It's clear this Final Fantasy VII remake experiment wants to have its cake and eat it too, offer titillating change and remain faithful to the original, but instead offers neither. I'm not left with confidence that Hamaguchi, Nomura and co. know how to wrap this up and deliver a satisfying conclusion to what they kicked off with aplomb and intrigue in Remake.

I did have fun with Rebirth! I put a lot of hours into it, despite the game's incessant efforts to make me hate it at almost every turn (I never want to hold down triangle for three seconds every time I need to do anything in the environment, thanks). There are good nuggets buried deep within the expansive nothingness that is the game's take on Ubisoft map design. But this is a game that is impressively all fat with little meat to chew on. Golden moments are spread too thin, not explored to satisfaction, and at worst become utterly confusing. I know in a year I'll still be pining for the last installment, which is more of a testament to how enduring these characters are than anything Rebrith itself did. I might as well see this through, but I'm left feeling disappointed that Square has shown this experiment to be what I wasn't looking for after all.

#ffvii rebirth #2024 game journal #final fantasy #video game review #ffvii #I got Tifa for the gold saucer date btw. They knocked that scene out of the park.

9 notes · View notes

cataztrophi · 2 years ago

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by: @noodyl-blasstal thanks!!

Tagging: @fandomsnstuff @duck-newton I think a lot of people have been tagged already but if you haven't pls consider this an invitation to answer these as well!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2 currently, but I plan on putting up my TAZNC work at which point I will have 15!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

4,680 right now, but that number will increase by a lot shortly since I think all my TAZNC works were between 1,000-4,000 words.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

TAZ, and I've got a few Owl House things in the works I hope to finish some day.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Show Me Yours, then The Thing With Feathers

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I love receiving comments and I love being able to talk a bit about what I was thinking when I wrote things.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't usually write a lot of angst, but probably this unnamed ficlet because nothing really gets resolved at the end, although it is a fairly hopeful ending.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

It's hard to pick, I write mostly things that leave a lot of possibilities open, but I'd say probably my 10th entry for TAZNC this year (man I really gotta name these things) because I think the emotional journey makes the ending more satisfying.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nope! I've only gotten very kind words and I'm extremely grateful for all of them.

9. Do you write smut?

Yup. Nothing I'm quite finished with yet but I have several in the works and I hope to get some posted soon

10. Do you write crossovers?

They're not really my style, but I think they are fun to think about and play around with!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, and I'm small enough right now that I think it's unlikely.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I've heard of

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I did once on a previous account, unfortunately I was very bad at finishing anything at that point in my life and I hadn't gotten on ADD meds, so we didn't finish it (my fault). I'd like to co-write something at some point, but I think I'd need to have more practice with writing/finishing longer stories before I felt confident about doing it again.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Taakitz babey! Top tier meet-weird plus some truly beautiful moments, and such a great dynamic to play around with

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I'm not sure I'd say "never," but there is one Taakitz fake dating fic that I would need to seriously rework in order to make it coherent. I hope to finish some version of it someday, but it certainly won't look like the current WIP.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Boy I wish I knew! Someone told me I have a "lyrical" writing style, so I'll take it! I do really like working with the flow of words. Also I wrote a lot of tender romantic scenes when I was a touch-starved closeted high schooler, and I was surprised by how easy those scenes feel to write in my current work.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I have a tendency to write too much lead-in and too much ending if I'm not careful, so I basically have to chop off the first and last bits of every fic. I am very bad at coming up with plots. I worry a lot about capturing characters' voices and can struggle with differentiating them. And as previously mentioned, I tend to start a lot of things and not finish them, although I think I'm improving in that regard!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I'm very wary about it for myself. I could just about manage French but for anything else I'd want someone fluent to look it over for me.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Good Omens, back before the TV series came out! It was a pretty small fandom at that point, and I had to get my Aziraphale/Crowley angst out somewhere when I only knew like three people who'd read the book

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

I'm really proud of my TAZNC work, but I think I'm still proudest of The Thing With Feathers because I feel like I did exactly what I wanted with it and captured everything I was hoping to.

#thanks for the tag!

3 notes · View notes

musingsofabookworm1 · 6 months ago

Text

Late December 2024 Reads

I love Christmas break! I’ve read eight books so far and still have three and a half days to go!

Where Wild Peach Trees Grow by Cade Bentley

This book tells the story of two sisters who grew up in Natchez, Mississippi. One day, their mother abandons them. Julia must act as a mother to Nona. But then, on the verge of adulthood, Nona leaves Natchez and never looks back. It’s been 15 years since the sisters have spoken, but their father’s sudden death forces them back together.

This book had potential, but it fell short. The plot moved between past and present with no clear indication as the chapter changed when it was set. The emotion could have run deep but remained surface level. It did have a good mix of prose and dialog, but while some of the prose was strong, some was a bit too simple. 3 stars for this one.

The Barn: The Secret History of a Murder in Mississippi by Wright Thompson

Said murder is that of Emmett Till. This nonfiction is a tough read. Lots of information and lots of sadness.No spoilers there.

The first half of the book provides information about many people who got the wheels turning in Emmett Till’s murder going back many years and generations. Some people were more important than others, but all had a role. Some of this was interesting but some slow.

The second half focused on Emmett Till, his murder, and his legacy. This was easier to read, but the emotion is hard to overcome.

Hard to recommend this heavy non-fiction. 3 stars.

The Mad Women’s Ball by Victoria Mas

This novel is based on real events in 1880s Paris. It is set at an asylum. I mentioned in my last blog entry that I’m a sucker for cult books. I’m a sucker for asylum books as well.

The women in this asylum are treated like you’d expect women in an asylum to be treated. On top of the treatment, one of the doctors hypnotizes women in front of an audience. And during Lent, the title event occurs. The women get to dress up for a ball that the public is invited to watch.

The book focuses on a new patient - Eugenie. She’s from a rich, well-to-do family. A nurse, Genevieve, gets highly involved in Eugenie’s case. Maybe too involved.

I loved almost everything about this book. I loved the characters. I loved the writing. I loved the plot. The only thing I didn’t love was that it was only 210 pages. I so, so wanted more of this book. 4.5 stars

This is How We End Things by R.J. Jacobs

Mystery/thriller with simple writing and way too many characters.

The characters are mainly graduate students in psychology and their professor (save one ex-husband and one child). The book opens with an unnamed character giving an interview about a murder to an unnamed psychologist. Then we jump to the meat of the plot. The students/professor are running an experiment regarding stress. One of the subjects gets upset and attacks a student causing another student to attack him. That same night, the first student is murdered.. Who dunnit?

Everyone is a suspect in this fast-moving plot. Nothing amazing, not terrible. 3 stars.

Nightbloom by Peace Adzo Medie

This book, though only 350 pages, felt insanely long. Lots of prose, lots of details. Not my favorites.

Akofa and Selasi grew up in Ghana: cousins closer than sisters. After Selasi’s mother dies, she even moves in with Akofa’s family. The girls end up at the same high school when a number of circumstances drive them apart. Akorfa goes to college in the US while Selasi stays in Ghana.

The first half of the book is Akorfa’s point of view while the second is Selasi’s. Though they don’t see each other for many years, they are reunited near the end.

I really liked some parts of the plot. But the book covers a lot of ground in the women’s lives, and I felt like some parts got skimmed over in favor of other parts getting more time than they deserved. The parts regarding discrimination due to race and gender and how the two women persevered did make it worth reading. 3 stars

0 notes

lifewithoutmeds · 1 year ago

Text

February 3, 2024

It's only been about two and a half weeks since my last entry, which i think is pretty good. i don't like it when i go months without writing, and it's usually concerning if i'm writing daily; i'm usually "going through something" and having a terrible time, so two and a half weeks seems okay, although i think i would prefer at least once a week.

recap: january 14: i did manage to go the new abbey church. again we held hands, again we shared, again i cried, moved by both the sermon and the sharing, and afterward, spoke to the lady next to me who invited me to lunch with some other ladies, but i had to decline as i had made lunch plans with my mom that i'd already postponed a few times. i made my amazon return at whole foods of my broken heater, then had lunch with my mom.

january 15: mlk day, and hence a holiday. i met up with grace k and maddie and we went to the tujunga pond. we didn't catch anything but it was still pretty fun. maddy piled rocks on top of each other, rolled around in the dirt, and got two bites, but the water was super green and gross and i didn't see any fish or signs of fish (besides the two bites.) i think we had in n out afterward and it was really nice hanging out and maddy is in a very cute stage.

january 17: in office day.

january 18: facetime appointment with dr. sobhani who confirmed that i should be taking 300 ml of lamictal, which was comforting because i wasn't sure if it was lamictal or lexapro that i should have been taking. after work i went to paperback brewing in glendale and met up with grace y and caroline and we caught up.

friday was my RDO and i went to lana's and we all went to an airbnb at lake arrowhead. unfortunately there was no promised snow as it had been too warm, but it did rain, and the airbnb was disappointing but i did play with the kids a lot and they did get to do some tubing 30 minutes away on some manmade snow so i think they had fun. however i learned that three days and two nights with a six and three year old is just way too much for me and i don't think i'll propose another multi-day outing until they're a bit older and more independent. still i'm glad i went with them because i had wanted to get closer to the kids. i feel like a fairly absent aunt.

january 22: grace y and i visited caroline at the kaiser on sunset. over the weekend we learned that she had had a very random seizure, blacked out, and was in the hospital. i teared up a tiny bit seeing her in the hospital bed, with a hospital gown, but we tried to cheer her up while listening to what had happened. grace and james brought burritos from sonoratown, and we ate them and they were good. caroline joked that everytime we hung out, something bad would happen to her. after our thai dinner, she unexpectedly had to go to the hospital for an early and difficult multi-day birth, and then after drinks she had a seizure. i knew she was joking but i felt a bit bad.

january 24: in office and afterward went to ktown to help my dad as he has to move again. he had previously asked if he could move in temporarily, and then if he could store stuff in my living room, but he eventually decided to get a storage unit but i stopped by to pick up some stuff that my mom might want, and he also treated me to noshi although we didn't talk much and it was a bit strained.

january 25: coworked with danielle all day, then went to a mexican place afterward and drank very strong margaritas.

january 27: had a VBA's volunteer interview in the morning, then cleaned the condo, and went to celebrate steph's birthday. we picked up rynn, her friend with one leg, and all tried to make it to a planetarium show at griffith, but due to the traffic, lack of parking, and rynn's mobility issues, i had to just drop them off, park at the greek theater, then drive back up to pick them up. afterward we met LD at the little tokyo plaza, had izakaya, steph and i drank way too much sake, i decided to pay the $300 bill, we went to X Lanes to play arcade games, then ended the night back at my place with steph, rynn and i shooting each other with nerf guns until 2.am.

january 28: i awoke feeling very tired and mildly embarrassed at last night's shenanigans and resolved not to drink so much (again.) i lounged around all morning, didn't go to church, but did meet up amy for lunch at bea bea's in burbank. i think i came home and then continued to lounge for the rest of the day.

january 29: pretty uneventful day, worked from home, did some chores, but also felt this weird sense of heaviness as well as impending doom. i don't know why and i couldn't trace it to any particular thought, but i felt nervous and anxious.

january 30: after working from home, had facetime with kelda and for some reason cried the whole time. i think it was cathartic but i know i cried a bit about jadai, and how i felt betrayed by her, and of all the things she loved about me, she must not have, or she just changed, and decided to love all the things about someone else. we discussed how i was watching a lot of youtube videos of people sort of "getting what was due to them," like youtube influencers who would scam their fans, and then get caught, or "entitled karens" who'd get arrested. she figured that it was because i wanted to see the worst of humanity, but this time i concluded that in a sense, i wanted to see justice prevail, i wanted to see humanity right its wrongs, i wanted people to get what was due. and i think a part of that was that i felt wronged, and i felt that what jadai had done and was doing was wrong, and not that i wanted her to get hurt or suffer per se, but i wanted her to sort of be able to see how she was hurting people, how reckless she was, and for something to make her stop.

january 31: in office day and joyce treated us to sonoratown, and i had two tacos and one very spicy bean and cheese burrito.

february 1: i was feeling a bit anxious about having no plans for the weekend. i had felt exhausted by last week's activities and had initially felt relieved that i didn't have so much to do, but the thought of a completely bereft weekend, with no plans, no one to see, and no one to do anything with filled me with panic. tracy was going to see ash's family, lana had a litany of sports with sawyer, and i didn't want to go to long beach/harbor city to hang out with the long beach gaysians. i also felt weirdly distant from lorena and also knowing that she worked weekends, didn't want to reach out to her. randomly amir hit me up and we ended up meeting cesar, first to go to a scary dive bar in arcadia, and then to barney's beanery in pasadena where we ended up having a decent time and heading out around 11pm.

february 2: friday, my RDO. for some reason yesterday or the day before i had decided to go to this one-woman show at the lyric hyperion, partly because it looked well-reviewed, partly because it was at the lyric hyperion in silverlake and not in hollywood or west hollywood, and mostly because i had no other plans. tracy and steph wouldn't/couldn't make it, so even though i had just lounged around allll day, i almost didn't go, but finally did, wearing the same thing that i'd worn all day which was some black joggers and my grey rainier sweatshirt.

oh my gosh, that was the best experience of my life. somehow i got a middle front row seat, just within a few feet of Sophie Santos, and her show was all kinds of wonderful. she was funny, she was vulnerable, i laughed and cried and related so much as she discussed getting off of antidepressants without tapering, being broken up with who she thought was the love of her life, fighting feelings of abandonment and lack of self-worth, but also singing, doing impressions, and at some point, playing the guitar. the BEST part was that she interacted a lot with just me, possibly because i was in the front, or possibly because i was alone, who knows, but there was a part where she talks about her ex wanting space, and then the projections around her showed space, and she suddenly came right up to me, put a battery in my left cupholder which also held my phone, handed me a spaceman disco ball, and told me to shine it on her. i immediately shined it on her face and she quipped, "not right Now!" and everyone laughed. she went on with her show then nodded at me and said "now" and then i held it for her while she finished her song. later on, she smoked an imaginary cigarette and then when her ex's mom came to the imaginary door/house, she ran to me and told me to hold her cigarette. i think i took it like a joint and she quipped again, "have you ever held a cigarette?" and everyone laughed again. during a part where she talked about kind of coming into her own, she unbuttoned her long sleeve blouse/shirt, then threw it to me, and i caught it and just held it the entire time, not knowing what to do, not knowing if i could take it as a souvenir or what. in another bit called "rebound," where she sings about rebounding with whoever, she danced very sultrily up to me, almost like a lap dance, and as she got closer asked, "is this ok?" to which i must've nodded, eyes wide open, in a daze, and she looked straight at me, coyly smiling, just so fucking attractively, and basically gave me a very PG lapdance, before swinging by, sitting next to me, then going back to the stage. i was in love. or infatuation. or whatever. but. i was awestruck. gobsmacked. i had never been so physically and mentally attracted to anyone in my life. i was just stunned as i clung to her shirt.

after the show i waited a bit, and most people streamed out, but a few approached this lady who seemed to be a collaborator/producer type, and i was going to congratulate her on the success of the show, and possibly give her back the shirt so she could return it to sophie, but then sophie herself came out of the curtain and started getting her electronic stuff and i was able to approach her directly and return her shirt and say something like, that was the best show i'd ever seen, and she shot out her hand, shook mine, and said " i'm sophie," and i said "i figured." then i looked around and asked if i could do anything to help, she declined, and i asked if she was going to hang around afterward a bit, and she said she would, so i left.

after i bought a beer, i asked the cashier if i could take one of her flyers, and he said sure, then i walked out, still in a daze. some ladies stood around and said stuff like, "you did great! i'd be so afraid to be in the front, that's why i sit in the back!" and things like that and we chatted a bit before they returned to talking to each other. i eventually asked if they would mind if i could just stand with them, since i felt a bit silly standing by myself, and they said i could, and then some of the production people came out, like the lady who did tech, and her boyfriend, and i said hi and then finally sophie herself came out and i just stared silently for a few minutes before she kinda turned to me and introduced herself again and i said, " i was the lady in the front," (since she had already introduced herself to me and it seemed as if she had forgotten,) but she said, "i know. we had a moment." and i almost died. I ALMOST DIED.

after just a bit, they were like, okay, we're heading out to "blue" or something, and then they all left and i tossed out my remaining beer and went to my car, then to ruby fruit because the night was so anticlimactic, then home.

when i awoke, i felt this kind of ... craze come over me. all i could think of was sophie, and how sultrily she danced, and how attractive she was, and i could feel that old feeling of being obsessed. i followed her on instagram, messaged her about how much i enjoyed the show and compared it to "fleabag," and went through her page and liked about a year's worth of posts. she eventually messaged me back her thanks and for being a "good sport" and i did all i could not to message her back within half a second, and managed to wait about four minutes before i messaged her again. she responded, but with just a pretty short and generic response, which i "liked," or "loved" possibly, then felt all sorts of craziness. just the old sense of heightened feelings, of emotion, of growing obsession. i even teared up a little, scared at the magnitude of my feelings. i bought her book on amazon, i looked up her next shows, i contemplated driving to san franciso to see her sunday show, and i just felt so out of control, i felt myself spiraling, i saw myself following her, trying to get close to her, going to all of her shows, getting her autograph in my book and/or on the flyer.

i saw her dancing sultrily in front of someone else, i felt the stabs of jealousy that she could do to someone else what i felt was so special with me, i imagined her doing this every night with some other girl, i imagined her being gone, touring for weeks at a time, and always assuming she'd cheat on me. i felt my own ordinariness, i felt so small and weak and stupid, that she was so smart and charismatic and charming and yet sexy and funny, just everything, just perfection, and i felt myself idolizing her. i felt myself wanting to just be there, even just marginally, to just watch her from afar, to touch the hem of her shirt, to water her plants and feed her cats while she was out of town, to fill a seat at the table if someone canceled last minute but they'd lose their reservation if they couldn't fill it.

and then i felt again how plain i was, how unextraordinary. i was a cubicle worker living in glendale. i slept 12 hours a day and would just eat nutritionless pasta. i stared at my phone way too much. i had insurance and stuff, but was just so lame.

and then i realized how i was falling into old patterns. suddenly she was the DJ and i was cleaning her apartment, watering her plants, organizing her shelves, just to be proximal to her. she was lorena, and i was obsessively watching her ig, seeing new posts, noticing whenever she removed something or adding something, knowing that if she worked at a restaurant or a bar, i'd figure out her schedule and go every shift just to get a glimpse of her. i felt the spiral. i felt my weakness and her power over me even when she didn't ask for it, even though she was completely unaware of it, even if she wanted nothing to do with it.

i felt nervous, i felt anxious, i kept tearing up, and i just didn't know what to do with myself, just so restless. i'm trying to tell myself: she's a performer. she connects with the crowd. that's her strength, and that's her job. there was nothing special about you. she does this every night with a new person. she didn't follow me back on instagram or invite me out to whatever bar the rest of her group was going. she has 5,000 followers and probably gains another 100 every time she does a performance. she's a star. she wins awards and presents at awards and does workshops. she's made it, and she's only going to go to higher heights and she has already forgotten me even though she's made such an indelible impact on me.

i feel myself going crazy. i'm embarrassed. it feels like regression. i feel stupid and fat and lazy and unimpressive. i thought i was funny but she's exponentially funnier than i am. i feel my lack. i feel like crying constantly. and it makes me feel unhealed. i texted danielle and she reminded me that this has everything to do with me and nothing to do with her and i know this, i know this fully, and i'm tailspinning and i need to get a grip but i feel out of control.

i know this has happened before. adriana, regina, sarah, (ooh that's a lot of names ending in "a",) nida (omg), patricia from portugal, and then shy, DJ, and lorena.

with adriana, nida, patricia, DJ, and lorena, i was convinced, conVINCED that i would never stop pining over them, loving them, etc., but eventually for all of them, i did. some of these obsessions lasted years, decades even, and some faded within 1-2 years, besides wholly and fully believing i never could.

i really need to get a grip. i don't want to tell anyone about my feelings because i know they'll just roll their eyes and go "here we go again." when i told lana about my experience, she said, "and did you buy her dinner and drinks too? that's what you do. i've never seen someone fall in love as fast as you do."and i don't want to expend a ton of energy on this idolization, on another dream, on another chase that i'll never fully realize, when i should be having real relationships with real people, who are at my own level, in my own stupid league.

i'm not feeling so good. all sorts of crazy. a familiar crazy. but i want to work this out faster than the others. i can't keep falling into these patterns of yearning after someone who will never have me. i cannot. i must not.

week ahead: sunday: church hopefully. tuesday: some movie hopefully in my quest to watch more movies. wednesday: in office friday: dr. appointment saturday: nothing set, but hopefully drop off some e-waste looks like a slow week. hopefully i can get in at least a few walks, an episode or two of The Read, finish my book, journal, etc.

0 notes

the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

Text

Tolerate It

Summary: Reader struggles with feeling like Hotch is growing distant.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader

Category: fluff/angst

Warnings: the reader has thoughts/feelings of inadequacy

Word Count: 3200+

Notes: This is my entry for @railmereid‘s 2k writing challenge! It was inspired by Taylor Swift’s song tolerate it! I think there’s only one direct quote (I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life).

You met Aaron on accident. It could be said that a lot of people are met on accident, and that’s just how people meet other people. But with Aaron it felt different. It felt as though every little thing that went wrong that day lead you to the accident that would introduce Aaron Hotchner into your life.

After the shit show that was today, all you want to do is get home and sleep. Maybe also eat dinner, but honestly even food is on the backburner of your mind right now.

Your drive home from work was the first uneventful thing to happen all day, a necessary moment of peace. You made it into your apartment without any trouble, swiftly moving to change into your fluffiest pajamas and sleep.

The second your head hit your pillow, the fire alarm sounded. The blaring alarm screeched in your ears as you groaned. You forced yourself out of bed to comply with the alarm. Without thinking, you put on your slippers, grabbed your keys, and walked out the front door.

Once you made it to the street, you turned to see the building really was on fire. It looked contained to one patio, but it was big enough for you to give up your plans of sleep. Instead, you chose to turn on your heel and walk down the street to escape the crowd.

You didn’t have a plan as to where you were going. You just wanted it to be quiet. Before long, you found yourself in a park. Looking around, you spotted an empty bench. Perfect. You can just sit, enjoy the quiet of the park for however long it takes to fix the fire issue.

You start trekking toward the bench, now walking with a purpose, when you notice a man chasing his child. The child laughs loudly, joy so clear on his face. The man smiles at him, still running behind him.

His smile is so infectious, it has its own magnetic force pulling you towards him. Switching directions from the bench, you are now walking toward the grassy area they are playing in, not looking at your surroundings. You’re so captivated by the happiness on display in front of you, you don’t notice the change in terrain.

You end up tripping on a rock, falling and tumbling down the slight decline to land in a heap at the feet of the very man whose smile distracted you.

To make matters worse, he was not stationary. No, that would have been to simple. He was, in fact, still chasing the child. So, rather than rolling to a stop and looking up at him, you rolled right into him, causing him to lose his balance and fall over you.

The two of you were a tangled mess of limbs piled on top of each other. Slowly, carefully the two of you separated, gingerly moving arms and legs to avoid further injury. Helping each other rise from the ground, you were both speechless, equal parts amused and horrified at what just happened.

“Are you okay?”

You jumped at the sudden intrusion that brought you back to reality. Spinning around, you realized it was the child.

It took you an embarrassing amount of time to form a response. “Oh, um... yes I’m okay. Thank you.” Turning back to the man, you finally realized what just happened. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

He chuckled, a small smirk appearing on his face before he replied, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Oh, good.” Your relief was short lived as you realized what you were wearing and how you were dressed. “Please tell me you didn’t see me roll all the way down the hill?” You cringed at the thought.

“I could say it, but it wouldn’t be very honest.” Again, a small laugh left his lips.

“Do you think we could pretend?” You took a deep breath as he quirked his eyebrow. “Ya know, that I didn’t just make a complete fool of myself?”

“But that’s not true! Daddy said when something’s not true it’s a lie and lies are bad.” The boy chimed in again, earning a chuckle from both adults. You bent down to talk to him.

“You are absolutely right, lying is bad.” You nodded along with him, matching his serious expression.

He took in your expression, as if judging the sincerity of your statement. Slowly, a smile began to form as if he was glad you agreed with him. “Do you want to play tag with us?”

Looking from him to his father, you took the slight smile and nod of his head as an invitation to accept his offer. “I would love to.”

That series of accidents led you to where you are now, though. A year and a half later you are sitting in your shared home, watching Aaron Hotchner do paperwork for what feels like the millionth night in a row. More realistically, it is the ninth night in a row, but you’re feeling lonely and dramatic. Those nine nights have been spread out over the past month, interrupted by nights he spends away from home.

You yearn to be closer to him. All it would take is for you to cross the room, but it feels as though the distance from the couch you are lounging on to the desk he is working at is too far, like there is some impassible divide preventing you from interrupting him.

So you just keep watching. It has been 36 minutes since you started your observing. If he sticks to his pattern, he’ll pause in nine minutes to stretch, giving him the opportunity to notice your eyes on him. You’re hopeful that this time he’ll smile when he sees you.

So you wait. You watch him read. You notice the way his head dips just a bit lower as he tries to focus tired eyes on the smudged handwriting of a fellow agent. You notice how his hand squeezes the pen tighter than before, turning the once smooth glide of ink across the page into rushed, jagged strokes of letters. You notice the barely there wince as he flips the page, the result of the familiar feeling of a paper cut he’s grown all too used to. You notice everything he does. Which is why you’re not surprised when he speaks.

“You’re staring.”

Glancing at your phone, you note the time. Nine minutes later. Right on schedule. The smile you hoped for is noticeably missing, replaced by a curious tilt of his head.

“I’m basking in your presence.”

If he wanted to, he could figure out how lonely and dramatic you are feeling. But with the majority of his energy still directed towards the many reports on his desk, he only notices the surface level. Tired, slightly miffed, but enjoying that he is home.

There was once a time when he would have noticed it all though. A time when he noticed everything about you, sometimes before you had even noticed it about yourself. You’ve learned how to hide it though, to save him the energy that would be expended to profile you.

“You should consider a new career path. Comedy could really be for you.”

His deadpan joke doesn’t surprise you, but him rising from his desk chair does. For a minute, you expect him to come to you. To attempt to cross the impassible divide you’ve built in your head. Instead, he turns into the kitchen. He pauses at the island, drinking from the glass he never brings to his desk to prevent anything from ruining his files.

When he returns to his desk, squandering any lingering hope that he may have been done for the night, you rise. Unwilling to do what you had hoped of him, you turn away from his desk and move toward the stairs. Just before you lose sight of him, you turn back.

“Don’t forget to sleep tonight.”

Your tone is soft, emphasizing your concern to cover up the lingering loneliness.

“I’ll be up soon.”

You respond with a slight nod of your head, another thing unnoticed by Aaron as his eyes never left the files.

You flitter through the second level as you complete your routine to prepare yourself to sleep for the night.

You can’t help but notice the cold sheets on the empty side of the bed as you wait for Aaron, knowing you’ll likely be asleep before he comes to bed.

You’re surprised to wake up the next morning with Aaron still in bed next to you. You watch his chest rise and fall with the steady in and out of his breath. His face is fully relaxed, a sight you so rarely get to see.

You’re not sure how long you watch him sleep, but you notice when his rhythmic breathing changes pattern indicating he’s waking up. His eyes flutter open slowly, allowing you to see the exact moment he notices you.

“You’re staring again.”

The smile you are still hoping for is again absent from his face, too used to the frown that has taken over his features near permanently for the past month.

“I’m still basking in your presence.”

You notice the beginnings of a grin forming on his face. The twinkle in his eyes. The slight twitch of his lips. It’s nearly there when the moment is interrupted by the distinct, shrill ringtone indicating a call from the bureau.

You watch as he sits up to answer the phone with his typical “Hotchner”. If you hadn’t spent the last year noticing everything you could about the man, you would doubt that he had been asleep less than three minutes ago.

His brows furrow, his body leaning forward to sit a little straighter as he takes in the information from whoever is on the other end of the phone. His eyes trace the pattern of your comforter, up until he throws the blanket off of himself to rise to his feet. He’s changing into his suit before hanging up. Without even hearing his responses, you can tell where this is headed.

After he hangs up, you speak before he has the chance.

“I take it you won’t be here for dinner with my parents tonight? I’ll try to reschedule it.”

The question should express your loneliness, but you do well to hide the full truth. It’s easy to sound understanding because you are. You do understand, which is why you never plan to tell him how you feel.

The grim expression is enough for you to know you’re right, you don’t need the verbal confirmation. You nod your head, a smile on your face that doesn’t meet your eyes as he walks out of your bedroom.

While Aaron was away, you did everything you could to keep yourself busy outside of your typical 9 to 5 workday. Aside from the typical reading, cleaning, and TV watching you normally do you; you successfully navigated another conversation with your parents about why it was necessary to reschedule dinner a second time and played action figures with Jack, always in agreement about how his daddy is a hero.

Every night you found yourself staring at the door, hoping it would swing open and reveal him on the other side. Every night you grew less hopeful and more discouraged than the one previous.

Five days after he left, Aaron returned to your shared home. Despite the late hour, you waited for him on the couch. Knowing he probably hadn’t eaten dinner, you kept some food warm for him.

When the door swung open, you were in front of it in seconds. You pulled him into a hug, one he was too exhausted to reciprocate, and kissed his cheek.

Moving farther into the house, he dropped his files on his desk swiftly turning to head upstairs.

“I kept dinner warm for you.”

Your words stalled him at the bottom of the stairs. He turned around slowly, barely looking at you.

“I actually ate with the team tonight.”

His words hit you like a bus, but you turned to hide it. He didn’t eat with the team often, so you never blamed him when he stayed with them a bit longer than usual.

“Oh, okay. I’ll just put it in a container for tomorrow then. Did you want to talk about the case?”

You’ve always been willing to help him carry the weight of his job, but you’ve been trying harder to get him to open up this past month. Typically he brushes you off, tells you he’s fine, and then buries himself in paperwork.

He surprised you this time. Maybe he could tell you were upset, or maybe he was just too far in his head. Either way, rather than continuing on his path up the stairs, he moved to sit in the kitchen while you put the food away.

You listened as he ranted about the local officers withholding information about the case. You listened as he complained about the poor weather. You listened to every word, slowly washing and drying the dishes until they were sparkling. You listened until you were practically asleep, leaning against the sink. You didn’t dare to interrupt in fear he would shut down again. Or maybe it was you shutting down, but that’s a thought for another time.

When he finished talking, he rose from his chair, too worked up to sleep now, he sat down at his desk.

You watched, noticing everything you could.

Your weeks repeated much the same for the next few months. Your loneliness morphed into something new with each night you spent watching Aaron work.

It’s one such night when everything changes. You were trying to watch him work, but your thoughts drifted away from his actions as you lost yourself in your memories.

The first case Aaron went on after you moved in with him and Jack was the hardest for you. After a straight week of seeing him so often around the house, it felt like a slap in the face to come home and not have him there. Somehow you made it through, and you were clingier than usual when he came home.

He noticed how it affected you. That was before you started hiding your feelings from him. He told you he thought about you in every spare moment. That he wanted to solve the case even more than usual just so he could come home to see you even just a few minutes sooner.

He calmed all of your fears, protecting you from your own intrusive thoughts about holding him back when he was working.

You couldn’t help but think about every time he recognized how you were feeling and did what he could to help. How he would reassure you that he wanted to be with you, bringing you little key chains or stuffed animals from the cities he travelled to. How he would smile when he saw you. Where was that man now?

You thought back to the first day you met Aaron. It was like he saved you from a terrible day, bringing a smile to your face after hours upon hours of crap.

“Do you think we could pretend?” You laugh lightly to yourself at the memory of Jack telling you not to lie. Not realizing you spoke the words out loud, you’re surprised to hear Aaron from across the room.

“Pretend what?” The confusion is clear in his voice and the furrow of his brows.

“Hmm? Oh, um. I was just thinking about the first day we met.” Tears begin to brim your eyes as you think about how much everything has seemed to change. “And how you became my whole world and now I feel like I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life.” The tears are now freely falling down your face.

Aaron looks even more confused now. “What?” He’s frozen at his desk, pen in hand, reports on the surface in front of him.

“I’m so sorry. I just feel like I’m taking up so much of your time and you have such important things to do! God, I’m so selfish. I’ve tried so hard to hide it though, so you can focus on people who actually need your help.” The panic in your voice grows as you speak, along with the tears falling from your eyes.

“Y/N...” Suddenly, Aaron is on his feet, easily crossing the imaginary divide you’ve built in between the couch and his desk. He slows down, moving gently as he pulls you into him on the couch, moving your legs across his lap so he could pull you into his chest. “Sweetheart, you could never take up too much of my time.” He speaks slowly, so as not to start another round of sobbing.

“What?” Your confusion is clearly communicated with the one word question, but you’re on a roll with your feelings so why stop now. “Are you saying it’s all in my head? Bu-, but, but you’ve been so busy every time you’ve been home! I’ve barely seen you, and I’ve tried so hard to not let it bother me because I know how important what you do is! I do, I understand it all so much. I could never be mad at you for working so hard. I just feel like you’re tolerating me being here when you have so many more important things to do.”

Now breathless, your rant ends with more tears forming in your eyes. Aaron is quick to wipe them away as they fall. “You’re right. I have been busy.” His voice is full of concern and regret as he thinks about the past few months. “But please don’t ever doubt for a second that you are the most important thing in the world to me.” He pauses for a second before continuing. “Well, other than Jack.” This earns him a slight chuckle from you before you reply.

“Jack is the most important to me too.” Your clear your throat, hesitant to voice your next question. “You’re not mad at me?”

Aaron looks so taken aback, you would laugh if you weren’t so nervous. “I could never be mad at you. Especially not for having completely valid feelings. I’m so sorry I haven’t been as present as I should’ve been. I love you so much, Y/N. More than I could ever put into words, and I will be doing a better job of showing you just how much you mean to me from now on.” There’s a slight edge to his voice, as though he’s annoyed with himself for you feeling this way. “Please, don’t ever hide your feelings from me. I never want to lose you.” His own voice is cracking, slight tears in his eyes at the idea of you not being in his life.

“I promise.” You lean up to kiss him, trying to convey just how much you’ve missed him.

“Let’s go to bed.” He lifts you up from the couch, carrying you toward the stairs.

You shriek, clinging to him even more. “It’s only 9:15!” You laugh at his antics. “What about your reports?”

“I have more important things to do right now.” He smirks at you, quickly moving into the bedroom to show you just how much he cares about you.

permanent tag list:

@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @measure-in-pain

#renswritingchallenge #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner fluff #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader

505 notes · View notes

missymurphy1985 · 4 years ago

Text

The Revenge

Cillian and y/n had been together for 5 years, only these last few months he'd become seriously complacent and distant. Time for a wake up call.

Warnings - smut. This was a request from @being-worthy , I hope you like it!!

7pm. 7:15pm. 7:30pm. You kept glancing at your watch, the waiter bringing you another glass of wine as you sat, positively seething at the table. The third date night in a row he'd missed, and this was made you especially mad. Your anniversary meal. 5 years to the day since he asked you to be with him, properly be with him, after 2 months of being fuck buddies on the set of Peaky Blinders. You'd bagged the job of being his umbrella girl, so spent most of your time with him, and one thing had led to another after he'd invited you in for a game of cards and a bottle of Jameson's. Strip poker became your new favourite game.

You downed the wine, paid the bill and called a taxi back to your shared apartment. Walking in, he was nowhere to be found. Locking the door, seeing his keys still on the table in the hallway, you turned your phone off and went to bed.

"Sleep on the fucking porch, dickhead."

Waking up the following morning and turning on you phone to 17 missed calls and 7 voicemails, she smiled. Deleting all of them, she slipped one of his shirts on, and made her way downstairs to hear the front door being pounded. Smiling, you opened it to see Cillian stood there with a look of pure rage.

"Morning baby, have a good evening?" You opened it allowing him to enter.

"Where the fuck were you?? I've just spent the night sleeping in the fucking car y/n, why was your phone turned off?" He barged his way in, pushing past you to get to the toilet, his bladder screaming from inside him.

"Sleeping. Battery must have died. Shouldn't have left your house keys, should you?"

"Fucks sake... I'm going to bed." He stalked upstairs, not looking at you and went to bed. Now, you were really angry.

When he came back down a couple of hours later, he was still mad at you. Wouldn't say two words to you as you sat in the living room watching TV, coffee in hand. Into the kitchen he sulked, slamming cupboard doors to make his frustration clear to you. You just smiled.

You were showered now, but still wearing his shirt, buttons done low, exposing your cleavage, with no underwater underneath. You were determined now, plan in action, he was going to suffer for this. Walking into the kitchen, you opened the fridge to get some orange juice, bending completely Dr the waist, exposing your bare backside under the shirt. You felt his eyes on you, watching you, and inwardly grinned, though he couldn't see as your hips swayed slightly as you bent further to grab the juice at the bottom of the fridge. Standing back up, you turned to face him, shirt hanging off your shoulder now exposing almost down to your bare nipple, you straightened your body to drink from the carton, then bent again to place it back in the fridge. His eyes didn't leave your body once as he sat at the breakfast bar with a slice of toast.

"You mad at me, y/n?"

"Hmm? Why would I be made at you, now Cillian?" You smiled sweetly, noticing a small drop of juice on your finger, you licked it as seductively as possible, winked and left the room. Now he was confused... And hard. You smiled, knowing exactly what effect you'd had on him and went upstairs to get ready.

"I'm meeting Orla for lunch, I'll be back by 4." You called from the stairs.

"Tell my sister I said hello, yeah?"

"Maybe." You went upstairs to get dressed, within 20minutes you were out the door.

The following morning, you woke to find Cillian in his office downstairs on his laptop. You'd avoided him most of the previous evening, making him sleep in the guest bedroom. Sure to keep him out of the bedroom you shared, you'd locked your door.

Perking your nipples slightly to harden them, you stood at his office door.

"Hey... Um..." He glanced at you at the door and had to swallow a gasp. You winked at him, before making your way back upstairs. You heard him growl slightly, close his laptop and follow you. Sadly for him, you made your way into the bathroom, and locked the door. Bath time.

Sinking your body under the water, you could hear Cillian moving around upstairs, just outside the bathroom door.

"Y/n will you tell me what it is I'm supposed to have done wrong?" He paused outside the door knocking lightly.

"Mmm.... God this bath feels nice... Warm water on my skin... Fuck I needed this..." You moaned as seductively as possible, keeping your voice just loud enough so he could hear you.

"Y/n open the door... I can make that bath even better..." His voice deepened. This was working like a dream.

"Mm.... Don't you have another appointment with your agent Cillian?" He knew he was in trouble. You never called him by his full name, it was 'Cill', 'babe', but only Cillian when he'd pissed you off. Which he'd clearly done, but had no clue as to how.

Over the course of the following fortnight, you'd kept Cillian at bay, he was still sleeping in the guest room, your bedroom door remained locked overnight (he'd tried, you'd heard him, it was fucking hysterical) while you continued to seduce and tease him mercilessly. Orla had called to say he'd even tried calling her to find out what he'd done, but good as gold, she told him she had no idea what he was talking about.

Cillian had had enough at this point. He'd even tried getting himself off at night but he couldn't do it - his hands just weren't as good as yours, it wasn't the same. He genuinely thought his balls were going to explode, the tension inside him was driving him insane. He called his sister Orla again when you went out to do the food shop, desperate this time.

"Orla I need your help please, I'm your brother... Please? Surely she's told you what it is I'm supposed to have done wrong? All I did was go out with Adam for one night and she's barely spoken to me and hasn't TOUCHED me since!"

"Woah now, that's waaaay to much info for your sister to be hearing now!" She laughed at the other end of the phone, rolling her eyes. Y/n had done very well to keep this up for two whole weeks.. maybe it was time for some sisterly advice for her older brother.

"Cillian when did you go out? What date?"

"Few days after my birthday, so the 30th May I think, why?"

"No, it wasn't the 30th. Think again. Check your dates." He put his phone on loudspeaker and checked his calendar. Then it dawned on him. Oh fuck... Oh shit... Shit shit shit!!

"The 27th.. oh fuck Orla it was the 27th.. and I'm looking at the fucking calender entry for our date night saved as a fucking DRAFT!! I didn't set it properly... Oh fuck Orla I'm a dead man, how's she not killed me?"

"I think in a way she has Cillian!! You've got some serious making up to do - not like the first time it's happened now is it?" He groaned... This would be the hat trick. Three date nights missed because he couldn't work the fucking calendar app on his new phone properly.. but that excuse wasn't going to wash now, he'd had plenty of opportunity to sort his sorry ass out. And to miss their anniversary dinner? No. He'd make this right. He thanked his sister, ended the call and opened a different app on his phone. Operation Clemency was in motion.

****************************************

You left your friends house on Friday afternoon to see Cillian's car parked outside. You could see bags on the back seat, him standing by the open passenger side door waiting for you.

"What are you doing Cillian?"

"Surprising my girlfriend. Listen y/n, I've been a fucking idiot okay? Missing our anniversary date, after missing two before that.. neglecting you, neglecting US... Let me make it up to you, yeah?" You couldn't help but smile, nodding your head you took his hand as he led you into the passenger seat, closing the door behind you.

All the way there you stole glances at one another, Cillian refusing to tell you exactly where you were going. You couldn't help the feeling of excitement - never in 5 years had he done anything like this, you'd have to make a habit of punishing him if this was the outcome..

Pulling up outside a large manor house an hour later, you gasped in shock.

"Shit.. Cill this is beautiful!"

"It's ours." You nearly had whiplash from the sudden head turn in his direction. "I bought it last month, I was waiting until your birthday next week to surprise you, but now seemed like a much better option. Welcome to our new holiday home baby." You couldn't help the tears forming in your eyes.

"Oh my god... But how? When? I don't understand!"

"All those appointments with my agent? Didn't you wonder why I wasn't getting any work from it all? I was at the bank sorting the mortgage for this place! Picked the keys up yesterday, it's fully furnished and ready for us. I figured we could spend the Summers here. Beach is less than a 5 minute walk away, the boys will love it." You were stunned. Well and truly stunned.

Leaving the car, you walked to the front door, Cillian handing you the keys. You opened it and walked inside into the most beautiful setting - it was newly decorated exactly to your liking. It was perfect. You turned to face him.

"You know, I might just forgive you after all..."

"Nope. Not yet. I'm not done." He smirked. "I want you to go upstairs - our room is second on the left. Lay down on the bed and I'll be up in 15 minutes." Raising an eyebrow, you complied, walking up the stairs eagerly anticipating what he had planned. "Fully clothed y/n... Don't remove a damn thing."

You walked in to find a large double bed with fresh sheets, covered in rose petals. Candles lined most of the hard surfaces in the room. It brought a lump to your throat. A fresh bouquet of flowers on the chest of drawers under the window, with a small envelope under them, your name written in Cillians hand writing. You opened it to find a two tickets to the new Enda Walsh play showing at the Gaiety later that week - it was sold out and you remembered telling him you were disappointed to miss it, but when you're Cillian Murphy, sold out meant nothing.

Hearing him coming up the stairs you quickly lay down on top of dozens of rose petals on the bed. He walked in slowly, casting an eye over your body. This would be the hardest thing to do now, trying to control himself, but he was determined to make this last as long as possible. Moving to the old record player in the corner of the room, he turned it on, allowing the gentle sounds of the music to fill the room softly. Making his way over to you, he kneeled on the bed, eyes never leaving yours.

"You're not to move unless I tell you to, okay? Just relax. Sit up." You sat up as he lifted your t shirt over your head, swiftly followed by your bra. Pushing you back down and turning you onto your front, he carefully sat himself across your legs, opening a small bottle of something you couldn't see. Suddenly his hands were on your back, smoothing the oil into your skin, putting pressure all over it. Closing your eyes, you relaxed into the massage as he skilfully eased away as many knots as he could find in your slender muscles.

"Fuck... Cill that feels amazing... Don't stop, please..." He bit his lip, he could feel his erection forming under his jeans and willed himself to have self control. Two weeks without touching you was a long time...

He moved his hands lower, teasing the waistband of your jeans as he moved his body down, pulling them over your hips, underwear following. Now you were completely bare, his hands now expertly rubbing hard circles over your thighs, your calves, then your feet. Your core was burning now, his touch, even after 5 years, doing things to your body you still couldn't believe we're possible. Your hips twitched slightly with the throbbing feeling you couldn't ignore deep in your groin. He could almost smell it, the need in you. Smiling, his hands moved back up your legs, dipping between your thighs and moving closer to where you desperately needed him. He grinned, and teased his fingers closer, then pulled them away. Back over your firm cheeks, up your spine slowly. You groaned, you were positively on fire now.

"Patience..." You bit your lip as he whispered in your ear. He turned you onto your back, now running his hands over your belly as he moved back to hover over your waist. Hands moving higher, he kneaded your breasts, knowing it would drive you crazy.

"Ahh... Fuck Cill... Baby please..." He chuckled, this was more fun than he anticipated, why had he never thought of this before?

Leaning down, he trailed a line of kisses long your exposed neck, your head flung back as he continued his assault on your breasts. Nipping the skin, sucking lightly, you arched against him. You felt close to an orgasm already and he hadn't even got to the good part yet. Your breath coming out in short bursts as his lips moved lower over your collarbone.

"Feel good baby? Feeling close huh? Keep those noises coming, fuck you're turning me on right now..." His voice was intoxicating, his hands roaming, now his lips, you couldn't stop the heat rising in your belly, that familiar knot forming, how was this even possible? You didn't care, and you couldn't stop it - you came hard, bucking your hips up to meet his as it overtook you.

"Fuck... Baby oh my god...." You came down from your high and looked into his eyes, now darker and desperate. He was trying so hard to control it but the control had gone. He hadn't expected you to cum from this alone, clearly he wasn't the only one who'd gone without these last 2 weeks.

"Take them off." He didn't argue. His clothes were removed quick as lightening as he opened your still quivering legs. He quickly pushed himself inside and stopped, just enjoying the feeling of your core swallowing him again.

"Jesus.. I swear you got tighter..." You raised your hands to his face and glared at him.

"Shut up, and fuck me Mr Murphy." With pleasure, he thought to himself, as he pounded into you hard and fast, both of you groaning into each others mouths as you kissed hungrily, desperate to get as physically close as possible. You rolled him onto his back, keeping him inside you, as you leaned back and rode him hard. You moved his hands to hold onto the bed frame behind him.

"You've touched me enough, it's my turn." Your hands roamed over your own breasts now, hips still rocking against his, your second orgasm fast approaching. You knew, after 2 weeks of abstinence, he wouldn't last long and you were right.

"Baby.. slow down.. I can't... Oh fuck... Ah... Feels too good..." He was raising his hips to meet yours, you felt your orgasm taking over.

"Cum baby... Need to feel you... Fill me up... Drown in me..." He couldn't hold back any longer and with a final, hard groan he came, filling you. His hands came to rest at your frozen hips, he felt your walls clench around him as you came alongside him, both of you breathing heavily as you came back down to earth from the most exquisite high either of you had ever had. Leaning your body back down to kiss his lips, you gave him one more squeeze of your walls, emitting a twitch and a gasp from him, before collapsing next to him.

"Fuck... My god Cill, I'm gonna have to punish you like this more often..."

"The fuck you are y/n, never again are we going more than 24 hours without sex, ever.. I don't care how mad you are at me.." you both laughed, curling up in each others arms, Cillian whispering how sorry he was in your ear, how much he loved you, as you gently fell asleep.

The following morning you woke to an empty bed, but you could smell coffee and breakfast being prepared downstairs. You made your way down wearing just his T shirt from the day before and found a full breakfast waiting for you. Sausages, eggs, bacon, toast, juice, croissants... All there on the countertop. A plate, cutlery and a coffee waiting for you.

"Just missing the pinny Mr Murphy..." You giggled as he turned and stuck his tongue out at you cheekily.

"Eat up and get dressed y/n, I'm taking you for a walk this morning." Smiling, you ate, and an hour later you were stood on the beautiful golden sands of the beach 5minutes from your new holiday home. Watching the waves crash, you were the happiest you'd felt in a long time. You heard Cillian behind you.

"Turn around, y/n." As you did, he took your hands in his and kissed your lips.

"If I have to spend every single day for the rest of my life saying how sorry I am, I will. If I have to spend every second making it up to you, I will. You have completed my life y/n.. after my divorce, I didn't think I'd ever be lucky enough to find love again. Then you came along and everything slotted into place. My boys adore you.. their Dad couldn't live without you.. y/n..." He sank down to the ground, reaching into his jeans pocket. Bringing a small, velvet box back up to you, your breath caught in your throat, tears already in your eyes.

"Make me the luckiest man in the world y/n.. marry me?" You fell to the floor alongside him, tears openly falling now as you cried, pulling him close, kissing him softly.

"Yes!! Oh my god a million times over, yes I'll marry you!!" You both grinned, standing now as he held out your left hand, slipping the simple, white gold band and diamond onto your finger. Nothing else mattering in that moment apart from the dreams you both shared of the amazing future you had ahead of you.

@queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @being-worthy @margoo0 @cloudofdisney

#cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x smut #cillian murphy

162 notes · View notes

heytherejulietx · 5 years ago

Text

K. ~ Fred Weasley

Masterlists

Requests are CLOSED

Notes - Hi! So this is my own entry to my writing challenge. I found this song literally yesterday and after listening to the lyrics I had to use it. Originally I was going to use the song Dear True Love by Sleeping At Last but when I heard this I had to write it. So yeah, I hope you enjoy it as mich as I do! Please leave some nice feedback, I’m a slut for validation.

Warnings - A few hot moments, though no actual smut.

Word count - 4.2k.

Harry Potter tag list - @idont-knowrn @weasleysflowr @angelinathebook @msmimimerton @durmstrange @kashishwrites

Twins tag list - @whizbangs-78

If you’d like to be added to any tag list please just tell me!

I remember when I first noticed that you liked me back

We were sitting down in a restaurant waiting for the check

Fred couldn't really distinguish the line that was drawn between when he was friends with Y/N and when he first started liking her. They had been best friends since their first year at Hogwarts; himself, George, and her. They were inseparable. The three did everything together, and the only time they really were apart was when they had to head off into their separate dormitories for the night. As they got older, Fred started to view her as more of a friend. Though if someone was to ask him when he started feeling that way, he couldn't give an answer. Fondness turned into adoration, friendliness turned into flirtatiousness, and friendship turned into a crush. Though Fred never did anything about it throughout his schooling years. He thought she didn't like him in that way, and whilst being bound in the agonising friend-zone hurt him, he respected her decision and just wanted to get happy.

Though, there was still never a day where he looked at her and didn't think she was beautiful. There was never a day when he didn't want to gather her in his arms and never let go of her. There was never a day where he didn't want to pull her closer by the belt-loops on her trousers and kiss her until they were breathless. Sometimes George teased him about how whipped he was, though instead of getting offended he just agreed. He most definitely was whipped, but he loved it.

When the twins had left Hogwarts to start up their shop, Y/N had remained at the school to finish off her year and complete her exams. And whilst the twins - but mostly Fred - missed her horribly for those months - on the day after the summer she'd finished school before, she turned up at the door of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, asking for a job. And since that point on, it was like they were at school again. They were inseparable. And Fred was more in love with her than ever before.

Though he had never felt more in love with her than he did one early Sunday morning. The shop was closed for some maintenance that was being done, so whilst George was snoozing in his apartment, Fred and Y/N had gone out for breakfast at a muggle café in London. They had already eaten all of their food and were waiting for the check so that they could leave. In that moment Y/N was laughing at something that Fred had said, and he just looked over at her with such adoration and love, only one thought going through his mind.

"I bloody love this woman."

We had made love earlier that day with no strings attached

But I could tell that something had changed how you looked at me then

Fred could remember the night before that morning so clearly. He couldn't get it out of his head, the way she looked in his bed, clothes discarded over the bedroom floor and her hair splayed out over his pillow, whispering his name breathily as she pulled him impossibly closer. He would die a happy man if that was his last thought. She was just so beautiful, simply the thought of it made butterflies swirl in his stomach and a fond smile to sweep across his lips.

The night before hadn't been planned. At first she had just been coming over Fred's place for dinner as George was busy on his own date with Angelina, though the atmosphere between them was so different that night. Y/N kept shifting in her seat the whole dinner, and whenever they made eye contact, it was intense. Intense in a way that it had never been before. He couldn't remember what he had said to her, but after the dinner was over she flung herself at him mid-conversation and kissed him with a passion that he didn't realise she had.

"Please." She had whined through the kiss, both of them stumbling through the hallway towards Fred's bedroom. "Just tonight, Freddie. No strings attached."

And whilst the promise of no strings attached stung a little, the attraction and lust that had filled him in that moment was undeniable.

"Freddie?"

Fred looked back up and across the table at Y/N, pulling himself out of the love-driven trance that he had found himself in. When he met her gaze he pulled a half-smile onto his lips when looking at the beautiful woman in front of him, and seeing the way she was looking at him.

Oh.

She was looking at him the same way he looked at her multiple times a day. With such a fondness that his heart started racing in his chest and his palms became sweaty.

She liked him back.

Kristen, come right back

I've been waiting for you to slip back in bed

When you light the candle

Fred groaned as he rolled over in the bed and stretched his arm out for his lover, though felt nothing but pillows and the quilt, and not the beautiful girl who belonged there. He pat around the space another few times, just to make sure her frame really wasn't there, before pouting as he flipped over to lay on his back.

"Darling!" He groaned, and didn't miss the distinct giggle across the room from his lover. "Come back, I miss you too much. I can hear my heart breaking more and more with every moment that you're away."

"Stop being so dramatic, I'm just lighting a candle." She scoffed fondly, followed by the click of a lighter being lit.

"You left me to light a bloody candle?" Fred sat up and had to squint his eyes to see her in the dimly lit room. When he spotted her, stood on the other side of the room by their dresser with a now-lit candle, he couldn't help but smile despite the false annoyance he was trying to portray. She was stood there in just her underwear, her hair messy and a bit knotted, but to him she looked perfect. She caught his gaze across the room and sent him a wink, before shrugging her shoulders at his previously spoken statement.

"Hey, they smell nice. This is the one that reminds me of your mum's house." She explained with a soft smile as she put the lighter away in the top drawer of their dresser.

"Why? Because it's in an orange jar?" Fred joked with a small entertained smirk when he watched her roll her eyes.

"No." She giggled. "It smells like cinnamon, like her cooking whenever we go to visit them."

Fred watched as she approached the bed with the candle in her hand, and waited until she had put it down on their bedside table before he smirked and moved his arms around her waist, tugging her into the bed.

"Fred!" She squealed, laughing once he had rolled them so he was leaning over her, his legs bracketing hers as his hands moved down to her waist to start tickling her. She only laughed harder, the noise making him smile fondly as he kept running his fingers across her ribs, pushing away her hands that made a futile attempt at getting him to stop. He kept at it until he could see that she was running out of breath, despite still laughing loudly. In one fluid movement he caught each of her wrists in one of his hands and pinned them above her head against the pillow, his other hand resting on her hip, his thumb brushing along the waistband of her underwear.

"I hate you." She groaned, a slight giggle in her words at the ghosting of his tickles.

"No you dont." Fred smirked, looking down at her with a shit-eating grin. "You love me."

"Yeah, I guess I do." She sighed dramatically, just giggling when Fred had rolled his eyes at her dramatics.

"You guess?" Fred raised an eyebrow at her before lowering his head to her neck, leaving light kisses along the already marked skin. He felt her hands wiggle in his grip, though he kept her wrists pressed into the pillows.

"Mhm." She hummed, another quiet giggle leaving her lips.

Fred just smirked against her neck before tilting his head a little, leaving open-mouthed kisses at the base of her throat instead. He felt an especially smug feeling wash over him when he heard her breath catch in her throat once he'd lightly sucked on the exposed skin there, her hands wriggling again.

"Still guess so?" He asked smugly against her neck, being answered with a quiet whine instead of a sarcastic remark.

"Freddie." She whined, pulling against his hand. "Stop being such a tease."

Fred only chuckled, pulling back from her neck to lift his head and meet her lips with his instead, breathing in her exhale once she had sighed into his mouth. "Sorry, love." He muttered, releasing her wrists to rest his hands on her hips, feeling her's immediately find a place in his fiery locks. "Can't help myself."

And on the Lower East Side you're dancing with me now

And I'm taking pictures of you with flowers on the wall

One of her favourite things to do was dance. She danced all the time; when she was working, when she was cooking, when she was getting changed. She was always in such a good mood, it was astonishing to him that one person could hold so much happiness in them. Which was why it was so obvious to Fred when she was in a bad mood. She became very quiet, and almost drained.

Fred noticed this when he came home from work on one of the days she had off, and noticed her sat on the sofa with their cat Percy (Fred thought that naming their cat after his older brother was an absolutely hilarious idea, especially since Percy hated cats) still in her pyjamas, which was odd because even if she wasn't going anywhere she would still get dressed for the day.

She greeted him when he had come home, looking over at him as he took his shoes off with a small smile, and Fred could definitely tell that something was wrong when the smile didn't quite meet her eyes as it usually did.

"Hey, love." Fred said softly as he walked into the room, moving to crouch in front of her and gently took her hands. "Are you alright?"

Y/N sighed, shrugging as she looked down at their hands. "I had an argument with my mum this morning when she called. And we just never really argue a lot, so it kind of upset me a bit."

Fred frowned and let go of her hands to wrap his arms around her waist, standing with her so they could hug properly. "I'm sorry, darling." He said softly, leaving a kiss against her hairline as he held her tighter when feeling her grip on him tighten.

They kept stood like that for a while in silence, with Fred leaving kisses against whatever part of her he could reach as he gently rubbed her back, trying to offer whatever sort of comfort he could give her that would make her feel even just a little bit better. He noticed that as the minutes passed her grip on him subtly got looser and looser, until she was simply holding him normally.

After a few minutes Fred pulled away from the hug with a soft smile, and leaned down to her height so he could press a soft kiss against her lips, and couldn't help but feel a bit better when he felt her smile against his lips. When he'd pulled away she smiled at him softly and pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek, before returning to her spot on the sofa beside Percy, who was now asleep.

Though she still didn't look too happy, so after a moment of thought Fred smiled and moved across the room to their muggle CD player - an invention that she had introduced to him a few months back, and since then had loved it so much to be collecting muggle CDs of music that he liked. He found one of their favourite CDs to listen to together and put the disk in before he turned back towards Y/N as the music started floating across the room.

"Could you do me the honour of dancing with me, my love?" Fred bowed before her with one hand stretched out towards her, his words spoken in an over-the-top posh accent.

"Of course, my darling." She giggled, taking his hand and letting him pull her out of her seat to the middle of the room.

Fred's hands fell to rest on her waist as her arms loosely wrapped around his shoulders, the two of them swaying to the music together as they kept each other held close. Her head leaned to rest against his chest and she sighed softly, before Fred felt her relax against him. They danced for a while, long enough and peacefully enough for the rest of the world to blur away, and to just be left with the two of them there, the music a beautiful ambience in the background as the two swayed together lovingly.

"I love you, Freddie." She whispered softly, tilting her head to look at him with an expression that made him melt.

"I love you too, sweetheart." He leaned down to capture her soft lips with his own, a warm feeling bubbling in his stomach at the simplest touch from her.

Once he had pulled away, he removed one of his hands from her waist and reached to take one of her's instead, his smile growing as he gently spun her twice. Y/N giggled as she spun, falling back into Fred's chest with a light laugh as her hand gently squeezed his. Their dancing soon became almost silly, with her trying to spin Fred a few times - which was only successful when Fred helped her out by ducking since he was a considerable amount taller than her - and Fred dipping Y/N whenever a song ended. They ended up dancing for so long that before they knew it the album had ended. At the end of the song Fred dipped Y/N which caused her to giggle and smile at him - an expression that always made him fall in love with her all over again. Instead of letting her back up he leaned down with her to kiss her instead, smiling against her lips when she had wrapped both arms around his shoulders to pull herself closer and deepen the kiss.

By the evening, when the light outside was a beautiful orange glow that cast an amazing light through their windows, they were both in the bedroom, wrapped up in each other's embrace underneath the sheets.

"Freddie." Y/N whispered, only getting a hum from the man who had his face pressed against the soft skin of her neck, his arms wrapped around her gently. "I need to get up, I'm staying at my sister's to help with the baby."

Fred groaned, holding onto her tighter which made her giggle as she lightly slapped his shoulder. "Come on, please? I can't be late, you know what she's like."

Fred sighed heavily though despite his reluctance to let her go he unwound his arms from her waist and rolled over, pouting when she had turned to look at him, whereas she just giggled quietly at his expression before getting out of bed.

"I'll be back tomorrow afternoon, love. We've got that double date with George and Angelina, remember?"

Though Fred wasn't really listening to her, instead his attention was her moving around the room to get her underwear, his eyes never leaving her body as she put them on. He sat up when she'd walked past the wall parallel to the window which had flowers painted over it, holding a hand up, despite her still only in her underwear. "Hold still for a moment."

"Fred, I really need to-"

"No no no, it'll only take a moment." Fred searched the draw of his bedside table for a moment before he smiled as he pulled out what he had been looking for - a polaroid camera. It had been a gift from one of their muggle friends the previous christmas, and Fred had been obsessed with it since they had gotten it. He took every opportunity to take a photo of her, and that was a lot of the time.

"Fred, I look awful." She groaned.

"Awfully gorgeous, my love, now stand still for a moment, will you?" He asked, smiling when she had sighed though leaned against the wall and kept still. He raised the camera to his eye, a fond smile crossing his lips at the beauty he was met with - the orange glow of the evening light casting over her exposed skin, making her look like an angel. "Beautiful." He complimented once he had snapped the picture, watching as it was printed at the top of the camera.

"Thank you." She smiled almost bashfully. "Can I get dressed now, love?"

Think I like you best when you're dressed in black from head to toe

Think I like you best when you're just with me

And no one else

Fred always thought she was beautiful. The word ugly or unattractive just wasn't in his vocabulary whenever she was around. Every outfit looked good on her, every colour looked good on her - though his favourite colour on her had to be black. To Fred, it was the colour that made her features stand out the most. It made her eyes seem brighter than ever before. It made her hair shine and almost glow whenever it was under any sort of light. It made every beauty mark and freckle stand out. It made him fall in love with her even more, if that were possible.

Though Y/N didn't always see that, and for the life of him Fred couldn't understand why. She was so beautiful and he thought that it was so obvious, but to her it wasn't.

"Freddie?" She had asked him once from their bedroom, whilst he had been in the kitchen cooking dinner. "Can you come in here for a moment? I need to ask you something."

Fred frowned, noticing almost a hint of nervousness in her voice, though he was almost stunned when he walked into the bedroom and saw what she was wearing. She was dressed in a vintage style button-down black dress, that had a neckline that dipped down low enough so that he could see her collarbones and the top part of her chest, and was short enough so that he could see above her knees to her mid-thigh.

"Do you think this looks alright?" She asked, looking at herself in their bedroom mirror, turning to different angles as she frowned at herself critically. "I got it for that party we're going on but I'm not too sure about it."

Fred shook his head, moving over to stand behind her and moved his arms around her waist, tucking her head underneath his chin as he met her gaze in the mirror. "You look beautiful, darling." He said softly, gently squeezing her in his hold. "You could never look anything less than gorgeous, okay?"

He watched as she smiled bashfully and nodded her head, looking at herself in the mirror again as she leaned against him. "Thank you, Freddie."

"It's no problem, love." He smiled softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against her neck as she closed her eyes and sighed in content.

Kristen, come right back

I've been waiting for you to slip back in bed

When you light the candle

Fred groaned as he collapsed back onto the bed, watching as Y/N moved across the room to light a few of the many candles she had collected over time. "You're not leaving me for those bloody candles again, are you?" He huffed, watching her, in nothing but her underwear, light the candles like he'd seen her do many times.

"Hey!" She whined, pouting as she turned to look down at him. "Candles are romantic. And they smell nice."

"I'm romantic and I smell nice, what's your point?" He asked with a small smirk, only getting a scoff in return. "Darling come back, I want you now." He groaned overdramatically, flopping back over the bed with a loud sigh.

"You have a left hand, don't you?" She asked, raising her eyebrows. "Use it if you're that impatient." She giggled when turning and seeing his bewildered expression, as he had definitely not expected that sentence to leave her mouth so casually.

"Okay, that's it." Fred moved to get up and crossed the bedroom to be standing behind her, before he wound his arms around her waist and picked her up.

"Fred!" She giggled the complaint as he carried her across the bedroom towards the bed. "No wait, I didn't finish lighting the candles!"

He simply ignored her and gently tossed her onto the bed, which caused her to laugh a lot harder as he got onto the bed and situated himself over her.

"Oh yeah, that's terribly romantic, Freddie." She teased with another giggle as she pushed some of his hair out of his eyes.

"Oh, just shut up and kiss me, will you?"

And I'm kissing you lying in my room

Holding you until you fall asleep

Fred adored every single aspect of being with Y/N. He could spend the whole day in one of her hugs, or dancing with her, or even just talking with her. And maybe he was a little biased considering he loved her to the moon and back anyways, but everything about her just pulled him in deeper and deeper, like a siren leading a sailor into the deep dark waters. Though one of his favourite moments with her was probably when they shared lazy kisses, whether that was first thing in the morning or the last thing at night. If it was the latter, then that usually entailed after-sex kisses, which Fred adored as much as the sex itself. There was nothing better than soft and light kisses after deep and passionate ones had been shared.

Y/N sighed into Fred's mouth as he rolled them over so she was underneath him, peppering her flushed and sweaty skin with light kisses once he had pulled away, nothing in contrast to what he had previously been leaving against her skin.

"I love you." Fred whispered against her pink cheek, before tilting his head to capture her lips in a soft and gentle kiss, despite it's lightness, still managed to take Fred's breath away.

"I love you too." She smiled softly, and when Fred pulled away enough to look at her he could see her eyes were half closed, and he could see how tired she was.

In one careful movement Fred rolled off of her and curled his arm around her waist, pulling her smaller frame into his larger one so her back would be flush against his chest. He felt her body relax against his as he pulled the covers over the both of them, and tightened his arm around her waist subtly.

"Night Freddie." She whispered, her eyes closing when Fred had left a gentle kiss against her exposed shoulder.

"Goodnight, darling." He whispered, leaving another kiss against her skin before relaxing against the pillows, holding her until she fell asleep.

And it's just as good as I knew it would be

Stay with me I don't want you to leave

Fred often found himself staying up longer than Y/N, though he loved those moments he got to admire her beauty in it's rawest form. He thought she was absolutely stunning, inside and out, and really couldn't have asked for a better person to spend the rest of his life with. Of course, back in Hogwarts when he was crushing on her like crazy, he often imagined what it would be like to be with her intimately. He imagined late night walks by the lake, candlelit dinners, late nights up talking. He had thought at that moment in time that nothing could possibly be better than that. Though he was so so wrong, because the real thing was so much better. She was so much better than whatever version of her he had imagined. Sure, she was probably the best friend he could have asked for in Hogwarts, though her friendship was absolutely nothing compared to her love.

That was one of many reasons why in the bottom of Fred's bedside table was a small red velvet box in, with a small silver diamond ring in. He wanted her to be his forever and he wanted to be her's. He never wanted her to leave.

Kristen, come right back

I've been waiting for you to slip back in bed

When you light the candle

#Spotify #amber’s 300 followers writing challenge #Harry Potter #Harry Potter imagine #Harry Potter one shot #Harry Potter oneshot #Harry Potter fic #Harry Potter fluff #Fred Weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley oneshot #Fred Weasley one shot #Fred Weasley fic #Fred Weasley fluff #Fred Weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred and george weasley

818 notes · View notes

trentaafcsblog · 4 years ago

Text

Take Your Daddy To School Day

Trent Alexander-Arnold

This is my entry for the lovely @footballffbarbiex’s writing challenge 🤍 thank you so much for letting me take part, I hope you all enjoy it and please go and have a look if it’s something that you might be interested in - there’s some lovely prompts still to choose from x

It’s been a good what...seventeen, maybe eighteen, years since Trent was sat on the yellow table in the Hedgehogs Class? The classroom still has exactly the same name and layout as it did when he was there all those years ago. The same blue felt tip stain on the bottom of one of the walls from where the boy in the year above ‘accidentally’ wrote his name in his four-year-old squiggly handwriting, and the water tray still being full of the same plastic dinosaurs that he used to chase his friends with when it was time for creative play. The name pegs by the front windows are still where they used to be too. Teeny tiny wooden hedgehogs glued above the multicoloured hooks, a white label stuck beneath them with all of the children’s names on. And obviously your little girl’s coat and bag hang on the first peg, just like Trent’s used to, because they’re ordered alphabetically, a wave of nostalgia hitting him because he used to love hanging his belongings there as it meant he was the first to leave at the end of the day - and it just so happens that your little girl has also picked up on her daddy’s habits when it comes to wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.

“Put your knees under the table, daddy” she’s tutting as T does everything he can to squash them under the yellow-topped desk without accidentally flipping it and sending the pot of scissors, glue sticks and blunt pencils across the room. His cheeks turning a dark shade of pink when your little girl’s teacher spots him shuffling around awkwardly and trying to disguise the fact that he’s in absolute agony, only intensifying when your daughter insists on pointing out daddy’s ‘raspberry face’ to the little boy sat on the table behind. But eventually he’s managing to do it, although the little plastic chair he’s sat on is now threatening to collapse, the metal legs bowing slightly each time he leans more to one side to help your little girl with her work or has to turn around when one of the children gasps and points before not so quietly whispering ‘that’s the man that kicks a football’.

“Daddy, you can do this one” she’s announcing as they plough their way through the worksheet they’ve been given to complete by lunchtime. “But I’ve just done all of these ones” he’s giggling as he points to the group of maths questions he’s just answered because he knows your little girl struggles with her numbers and he’s too soft to let her sit and find the answer on her own. “But you’re cleverer than me” she smiles, hoping that her compliment persuades Trent to write the answer down, not that he needs any sort of persuasion because he’s already scribbling down the answer, but she’s already picked up on the fact that if you’re nice to people, they’ll be nice to you - something she definitely uses to her advantage.

They’re both managing to finish the work before the bell rings for lunch, a miracle really since they've been interrupted every two minutes by one of other dads having a fangirl moment or one of the mums trying their best to impress Trent with their very limited football knowledge, obviously hoping that he’s blown away by it and runs off into the sunset with them. But regardless, they’re getting it done in time and heading off to the lunch hall together hand in hand. Trent carrying both of their lunch boxes and politely waving to the screaming children in the classrooms they walk past, your little girl still too innocent to understand why daddy attracts so much attention, hence the string of ‘why are they shouting at yous?’ as they make their way into the dining hall.

They’re sitting opposite each other on one of the collapsible tables with little blue seats. The smell of whatever unappetising it is being served for lunch filling their noses and making Trent feel quite sick, acting as a reminder as to why he refused to eat school dinners and instead stuck to his cream cheese sandwiches that were wrapped up in his Spider-Man lunch box. “Cheers” your little girl’s giggling as she smashes her jam sandwich against Trent’s tuna one, both of them cut into tiny little squares which T had begged you not to do, but it’s not really a ‘take your dad to school day’ if he doesn’t eat the same as the children, is it? Which is exactly why the Liverpool shirt shaped lunch box he picked up from the club shop on the way home from training the other night is full of a packet of Mini Cheddars, a strawberry Frube yoghurt (even though he tried to pretend that he didn’t like them), two tangerines to try and balance out the sugar in the Mr Kipling angel cake, and a Capri Sun which he has no shame in admitting that he absolutely loves.

Their twenty minute playtime afterwards is consisting of Trent taking on the rest of the school in a football match, but obviously it’s not cool to be seen playing football with your dad in front of all of your friends, hence why your little girl is deciding to engage in a very in-depth discussion about last night’s episode of Peppa Pig instead, occasionally turning around to see if T’s still winning, which obviously he is, despite having about a hundred children slide tackling into him and pulling his shirt. “Are you not proud of me?” he’s saying jokingly as he makes his way off the pitch and over to your baby girl who’s pretending that she can’t see Trent leaping around in front of all of her friends, all because he beat a bunch of five year olds at his own job. “Daddy, stop!” she’s giggling, grateful for the few curls around the edge of her face that mask her blushing cheeks because seeing your daddy show everyone up is one thing, but now having him flexing about it is another.

They’re making their way back to the Hedgehogs Class when the bell rings to signal the end of lunchtime. A few parents leaping in front of the two of them on the way to congratulate Trent on his most recent performances and awards, causing even more confusion for your little girl because since when has the whole world known about daddy and his job? And why is Jacob’s mummy, who always causes a scene in the playground when she sees someone wearing a football shirt because it’s ‘tacky’ and ‘the most pathetic sport’, suddenly so interested in a game that she tells everyone she hates? Or is she just interested in Trent? Who knows.

The two of them are spending the rest of the day doing creative play, flicking between playing with the dinosaurs in the water table, to making you a card for no other reason than because they love you, to creating one another out of red and yellow PlayDoh - something Trent won’t be doing again because he’s convinced himself that he looks like the slightly disfigured model that your daughter has made - one foot three times the size of the other, an unfortunate bulge on the top of his head, and arms that are extremely long and skinny. And his doubts aren’t going away because your little girl keeps reinforcing the fact that ‘it’s you, daddy’, much to the amusement of all of the other parents who giggle away at how disappointed and awkward he looks after being compared to crusty piece of five-year-old PlayDoh.

“I had fun with you being a big boy at school today” she’s saying as she walks hand in hand with Trent over to her peg, his dad instinct coming out as he helps her put her coat on and pack her book bag. “Did you?” he’s asking, his heart melting into a puddle when she nods her head and gives him a little smile. “I had so much fun too, even if you did splash me at the water table” he’s saying, tickling her sides and making her giggle at the memory of the plastic dinosaur ��accidentally’ dropping from above her head right into the water in front of him. “Shall we go and tell mummy about today then?” he’s saying as he reaches down and takes her hand in his before the two of them are stepping out into the playground together, your little girl bursting with excitement ready to tell you all about their day and how Trent now has a gold star stuck on the wall for being the ‘cleverest at knowing all of the dinosaurs’ names’.

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold blurb #trent alexander arnold imagine #daddy trent

127 notes · View notes

someonestolemyshoes · 4 years ago

Text

Off the Record

Hello!! I am super excited to finally post my entry for @levihan-drabbles competition :D The prompt was super interesting and I had a tonne of fun writing this one!

The prompt I received was: Hange posts a picture of Levi somewhere and it becomes a meme.

(For those curious, this is the meme I used for inspiration)

Hange pushed her plate across the table and grinned at him. "Levi! Fancy seeing you here! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Levi's lip curled.

"You know what," he said. Hange braced her elbows on the table and rested her chin atop her knotted fingers.

"Enlighten me."

Colour rose in Levi's cheeks. For a moment, Hange felt a little guilty. For all Levi's grumbling and grunting, Hange had never seen him angry before.

"That bullshit article."

"Ah. Was there a problem?"

Hange met Moblit in a small cafe a little way down the road from the newsroom. She was in good spirits—her morning had been productive; she'd made steady headway with research for her next interview, finished the final edits for a few smaller tabloid pieces she'd been meaning to brush up, attended three short, perfunctory meetings on tedious company policy, and laid the groundwork for another exciting interview opportunity.

She felt good. And now she had the pleasurable prospect of a hearty lunch, a passable cup of coffee, and perhaps best of all, Moblit's company. His company, and his camera.

Hange threw herself into the seat opposite Moblit the moment she spotted him, hunched over his laptop in a corner of the cafe. He lifted his coffee cup just in time for Hange to clatter against the table, the thin metal frame rattling precariously. She offered him a sheepish grin.

"Sorry," she said, and then, "got anything exciting?"

"I don't know about exciting. Interesting, maybe, but no breaking news."

Hange flagged down a passing waitress with one hand, and waved Moblit off with the other. "Doesn't matter, doesn't matter," she said, then paused to order a drink and her favourite sandwich. "Tell me anyway."

"I got a tip-off from a waiter at Sina's."

Hange's eyes sparkled behind her glasses. She sat forward in her chair, folding her arms on the table top as she leaned closer. "Who?"

"Take a guess."

Hange grinned at him. Moblit was not one to play coy; he did his job and did it well, and reported his findings efficiently. To leave her to question it meant one of two things; he had photographed someone very high profile indeed, or it was somebody Hange was, for better or for worse, well acquainted with.

Or perhaps, if she were lucky, it was both.

"Let me see him, then."

Hange had taken far too much time in the cafe with Moblit. He had given her a rundown of all the details he'd gathered during his field work that morning, and shown her through his extensive photo gallery. It was impressive, the kind of archive Moblit could cultivate with only a 45 minute breakfast window.

Hange had been delighted. Moblit was right; it wasn't breaking news, nothing particularly thrilling, but there was a corner of the Internet, Hange knew, that would delight in a trashy little article just like this. Something quick and simple to bulk up the social media feed for the afternoon.

Plus, there was a series of pictures Moblit had snapped, a cluster he'd thought to be of no real merit, that Hange simply could not pass up.

She could lay down no facts with a story like this one. There was no hard-hitting investigative journalism to be had, but she could at least offer some speculation based on her knowledge of the subjects involved, and spin a tale juicy enough to get people talking.

It took little time at all to put the article together. Hange scribbled up an outline for the contents—the location; Sina's in downtown Hizuru, a luxurious restaurant serving five star meals at every hour of the day. High in quality, sickeningly steep in price. The time of day; 9am. To the best of Hange's knowledge, this was rather out of character for the subject. He was an early riser, but according to their interview last March pending the premiere of his newest movie, he wasn't the type to eat much at all before lunch time.

And then, the company. Eren Yeager was a relatively well-known actor, barely an adult at nineteen. He starred in his first role a decade earlier, and had seen commercial success in multiple movies and TV shows ever since. He had been something of a prodigy in his younger years, bold and precocious, possessing a natural talent many actors years his senior couldn't even hope for. As Hange understood it, he had recently hit a rather troublesome phase. An interesting line of inquiry, but despite his talent and his fame, Eren's presence was simply a cameo, compared to the subject of the article Hange was drawing up.

Levi Ackerman.

Levi is a fan favourite and a media delight. He's attractive no doubt, and his performance in any and every role is almost always met with critical acclaim. Outside of his career, however, he's an elusive thing, silent in any matters pertaining to his private life. He avoids any public event like the plague, and rarely shows his face at premieres or award ceremonies if he can possibly avoid it. He gives interviews only when required by some contractual obligation or other, or else when the journalist in question is so painfully persistent that it is simply easier to give in than to keep fighting.

Little of his personal life is known, but it is impossible for someone in Levi's position to avoid interacting with anybody at all, and even the great Levi Ackerman is not above scrutiny.

There are rumours. Several of them, accounts from fellow cast members, from staff, from directors, and even Erwin, his manager, has alluded more than once to Levi's sour disposition. He is prone, Hange has heard, to fits of anger, and is easily disgruntled by minor inconveniences. His dislike of anything unclean or untidy is the stuff of legends—Hange has seen this first hand, at their very first interview. He had entered the room, scowled at the chair before sitting in it, and given Hange a thorough once over before announcing, with no hint of humour, "your glasses are filthy."

Hange had found him both fascinating and quite delightful, in his own strange way. When he acts, Levi sounds eloquent; he is a master of emotive performance, wringing the last drops of anger, despair, or grief out of each and every word, or else injecting the perfect giddy jitter, or a tremor of humour when the scene called for it. As soon as the cameras stop rolling, though, Levi's tone becomes flat, and without a script, his words are clumsy and crass. He communicates poorly, quick to throw insults and crude remarks. Hange has interviewed him a number of times—she counts herself very lucky that Levi will consent to her requests without too much fuss, these days—and each time she finds herself spending half of their time together translating his answers into something a) family friendly, and b) understandable to the everyday reader.

There is nothing for Hange to translate this time. Moblit managed to speak to the waiter after Levi and Eren had vacated in hopes of gleaning any small tidbit of knowledge regarding their conversation, but the venture had been hopeless. The pair had grown silent upon the approach of any staff member, and spoke in tones too hushed for anyone nearby to hear. They learned nothing they couldn't extrapolate for themselves from Moblit's pictures; Eren looked sheepish, avoiding Levi's gaze in favour of staring into his drink, while Levi—

Levi looked furious.

Every picture featured his signature frown, which, in and of itself wasn't enough to assume Levi to be in any mood besides neutral, but some of the photos show a hint of bared teeth or pursed lips, with his brows pulled lower than normal, the space between them deeply creased. Hange found herself curious as both a journalist and as an acquaintance. They may not be friends, but Hange liked to think she knew Levi a little better than most people, at least. She could find nothing in their past interactions to suggest any relationship with Eren beyond the strictly professional. They had over a decade between them, and though they had worked together on more than one set, neither party had ever said anything to insinuate so much as a friendly attitude between them.

There was no resolution to her queries to be easily found. And luckily for Hange, this particular piece didn't require any. It was a gossip article, something spicy, jam-packed with buzzwords, what-if's and more questions than answers, designed to make people wonder. Levi's name in the title would be enough to draw people in; Eren's name was an added bonus. But the star of the show was Moblit's photography. Hange arranged the images she had chosen in a grid. In context, the pictures were intriguing, depicting a particularly ferocious part of Levi and Eren's exchange. Out of context, they looked a little ridiculous. Both would bring readers onto their home page.

Satisfied with her work, Hange queued the finished article for review, and turned her attention back to her schedule.

The article launched mid-afternoon. Hange watched, somewhat satisfied, as it was received much as she had expected it to be. The activity on their Twitter account skyrocketed, the tweet in question garnering more likes, retweets and replies in the hour after it's post than any other they’d dropped in the last month.

Hange had allowed it to slip from her mind after the first hour or so. She received praise from her bosses, and a text from Moblit, jokingly demanding she pay him even more handsomely for his work than she already had, and her cousin had called her in the evening on a quest for insider gossip she could share with her friends, but that had been the end of it. Hange thought of it no more until early the following morning, when she had stopped by the quiet little cafe beneath her flat for breakfast and her favourite coffee.

She had been polishing off her pancakes when the bell above the door chimed. She had paid little attention to the newcomer, until a shadow passed over her table, and a familiar voice said, "Oi, shitty glasses."

Hange looked up to see Levi Ackerman himself standing over her, his face twisted in a scowl.

There are perks of being reasonably acquainted with Levi. Hange always gets to conduct his interviews, and Levi only ever turns her down if her request is unreasonable. Like that time she demanded he meet her at this very coffee shop for "just a quick piece, about the cameo you did for the new season of Titans", only to show him she'd bought a new pair of glasses—"look, all clean!"—and, when pressed, admitted there was no interview at all. He had been far more hesitant to indulge her in smaller affairs after that, but Hange was still lucky enough to be his only regular interviewer after big releases.

More interviews means more commission for Hange, and more high profile work with other celebrities. Yes, being acquainted with Levi has its bonuses.

But it also has its downsides. Namely, that Levi will not hesitate to turn up at her regular coffee shop to berate her after she has posted some complete and utter wank at his expense.

Hange pushed her plate across the table and grinned at him. "Levi! Fancy seeing you here! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Levi's lip curled.

"You know what," he said. Hange braced her elbows on the table and rested her chin atop her knotted fingers.

"Enlighten me."

Colour rose in Levi's cheeks. For a moment, Hange felt a little guilty. For all Levi's grumbling and grunting, Hange had never seen him angry before.

"That bullshit article."

"Ah. Was there a problem?"

"You're a piece of shit, you know that?"

Hange sat back in her chair and sipped at her coffee. Levi's face was full colour now, a pale pink flush from his neck right up to his hairline. Hange gave him a measured look, then kicked out the chair opposite her.

"Sit," she said. "If you have issues, I'd be happy to discuss."

Levi looked for a moment like he'd like nothing more than to strangle her. Then he pulled out the chair the rest of the way, and dropped himself into it.

"I don't give a fuck about the article," he said. "It's shitty gossip anyway."

Hange raised a brow at him. She opened her mouth to continue when, without prompt, a young waitress approached their table, practically bouncing on the spot as she stopped and gave Levi a dazzling smile. Her cheeks were flushed prettily, and Hange would have thought she were simply starstruck, if it weren't for the light of mirth in her eyes.

"Good morning, sir. Can I get you anything?" She gave Levi no chance to respond, before plowing on. "Water? Or tea, perhaps? Forgive me, but you seem a little upset. Might a nice tea calm you down?"

Levi grit his teeth. "No, thank you."

Hange almost apologised to the poor waitress on his behalf, but she didn't look bothered at all by his rudeness. In fact, she had barely turned from the table before she snorted in laughter, and caught her giggles in her hands as she scurried back behind the counter. A second passed, before all three waitresses snickered.

"That," Levi hissed, "is your fault."

Now Hange truly was confused. She furrowed her brow at him. "How does that have anything to do with me?"

"You and your stupid article," he said. Hange looked back to the waitress, who looked to their table again before falling into a fresh fit of giggles. Hange turned back to Levi, a little sympathetic.

"I think she just fancies you."

"You're trying to tell me you really don't know the mess you've caused?"

Hange shook her head slowly. Levi watched her closely, searching for proof of the lie, but Hange's earnestness must have shown through, for Levi's anger abated a little, and he slumped back on his chair.

In lieu of a verbal explanation, Levi pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen a few times, typed something out, and scrolled a little way, before placing the phone on the table and sliding it towards her. Hange pulled it closer with a frown.

The screen displayed Twitter, and showed the feed beneath the search for Levi's name. Hange scrolled a few posts, eyes widening little by little as she went.

Levi was right. The contents of the article were of little significance at all. The photo grid, however, had gone viral overnight.

It showed four pictures of Levi and Eren, taken in succession. Each one showed only a portion of the back of Eren's head, but Levi's expression in every frame was more animated than Hange had ever seen him outside of his movie scenes, and each was more distraught than the last. Face tight, jaw clenched, teeth bared, with his finger pointed condescendingly in Eren's face. The second last picture shows his brows arched and his lips pressed into a thin line, and the final one—

Hange had laughed at it in isolation when Moblit had shown her. She had fully expected it to garner a few laughs, but she hadn't expected a photograph of Levi furiously slurping his tea to become a meme in less than 24 hours.

"I see," Hange said, as she calmly slid the phone back to him. "In my defense, you don't help yourself. It wouldn't be half as funny if you didn't hold your tea cup so weird."

"In my defense," Levi snapped, "If you didn't post it online nobody would have anything to laugh at."

Hange crossed her arms on the table and leaned towards him, smiling pleasantly. "In your defense, you wouldn't have been so angry in public if it weren't for whatever Eren had to say. What was that about, by the way? I'm terribly curious."

Hange expected a very Levi response to her prying; a scowl, perhaps a quick kick under the table, an 'It's none of your damn business, four-eyes', if she were lucky.

What she got instead was a haughty sniff, and a gruff, "He's fucking my cousin."

For a moment, they were silent. Either Levi's anger at his new meme status had temporarily disabled the part of his brain that blocked any mention of his private life from slipping past his lips in the wrong company, or something about Eren's indiscretion had rattled him so much, he couldn't keep silent about it. Either way, he looked increasingly surprised—and horrified—at himself for saying it out loud. Hange's eyes were wide, and Levi's were growing wider by the second. Of all the people to slip up to, he had slipped up to her. An entertainment journalist, the one person in his life who thrived on this kind of insider knowledge.

Hange swallowed. Levi was still staring at her like a deer in headlights, no doubt painfully aware that there was no taking back what he had said now.

Hange doesn't take a great deal of pride in what she does. She feels satisfied when her stories receive the reception she'd predicted, validated in her ability to analyse their consumer base and make accurate assumptions about what will hit and what won't, but the work itself feels dirty, at times. An opportunistic scavenger feeding on whatever carrion they can find, no matter how rotten it may be.

This is a perfect opportunity. Salacious details of Levi's interpersonal relationships, right from the horse's mouth. If it were anyone else, Hange would be scribbling every word verbatim in her notebook.

But this is Levi. Levi, who seems jarred by her last article (though Hange will maintain this, at least, is no real fault of her journalism, and also, absolutely hilarious) and was clearly, for whatever reason, incensed by Eren's actions.

Hange brushed her palms over her thighs, and picked a speck of lint from her trousers.

"This is nice, isn't it?" She said, "having breakfast together. We should do it more often. It feels good to just talk, sometimes. Off the record."

Levi blinked rapidly at her. He opened his mouth, but, still too shocked by his own loose tongue to speak, he said nothing. Hange pulled her phone from her bag and fiddled around with it some, tapping here and there, until she found what she was looking for. She turned it to Levi, and said, "I think this is my favourite edit so far."

Levi finally pulled his gaze from her, and looked down at the screen. It was truly something, the way the picture snapped him out of his stunned silence. Hange had never seen someone's face pinch up so rapidly.

"Come on, it's kinda funny. And look! That's Tony Stark, right? People are so creative. And maybe, if we're really lucky, Buzzfeed will do a compilation article of all the best ways people have used your new meme."

Levi rolled his eyes at her. It looked strange, with his face so tightly twisted. Hange chuckled at him.

She nudged his ankle beneath the table with the toe of her shoe. "Lighten up, you look constipated."

"Oi, out of the two of us I'm not the one who's full of—"

"—Full of shit, I know, I know. That honour is all mine."

They lapsed into another silence, this one marginally more comfortable than the last. Hange finished the last of her coffee and checked her emails, while Levi tortured himself some more by scrolling through his Twitter feed. After a short while, he spoke again.

"That...doesn't sound bad," he said.

"Hm?"

"What you said about talking more. Off the record. It doesn't sound bad."

It was Hange's turn to flush. Heat rose in her cheeks, and she occupied herself by rifling through her bag in search of nothing.

"Yeah?" Her voice, an octave higher than usual, cracked around the vowels. She cleared her throat, "will you have more gossip for me? It's almost painful that I can't share it, you know."

"Good. I'll share as many secrets as I've got, if it'll bother you that much."

"Sounds terrible," Hange said. She tore a clean corner off her napkin and scribbled her personal number onto it. She slid it over the table to him. "Text me."

Levi pulled a face at the piece of napkin. "Is that used? Gross, shitty four-eyes." He pocketed it anyway.

Hange didn't know what else to say. Levi didn't seem to either, and so he stood, and tucked his chair back in. Hange turned her eyes down to her empty plate. Her stomach and chest felt strange, almost sickly, but in an oddly pleasant way.

Levi rapped his knuckles on the table. Hange jumped, startled, and looked up at the sound.

"This part is on the record," he said. The corner of Levi's mouth quirked into a small, barely there grin. "I heard from a reliable source that Eren was so scared on the set of Last War that he pissed his pants. Twice."

#Levihan #snk #my writing #THIS ONE WAS SO FUN I would like to revisit this one day #I enjoyed their dynamic hehe

104 notes · View notes