#I am very much enjoying the thought of a fic/character playlist just being something that ends up getting played in the bakeries though

[yeastwars]

weird question: do you have a song/playlist for your fic?(like songs that remind you of the characters/story/etc)

hey! this is a very sweet question 🥺 I'm gonna be real with you I'm not the kind of person that makes character/fic playlists. I loooooooove listening to other people's but I feel like I don't know enough music in general to make my own. maybe someday but even thinking about it now I have no idea what kinds of songs I would put on a yeast wars playlist

[burninlovebutler]

Just an Intern // Part 4.1

pairing: austin x intern lol | word count: 4.7k-ish?

summary: the consequences of austin’s behavior catches up to him amidst battling the paranoia of an impending media shit storm. when a familiar stagehand nuance instigates a conflict, austin helps intern escape.

warnings/notes: usual angst, oral f receiving, jealousy, dom!intern / sub!austin ?? if you squint?, orgasm denial, protective!austin, physical altercation, 18+ mdni

notes: austin's POV was suggested / requested - i prefer/am better at writing in first person so, i really enjoyed doing this. writing from male character's perspective is something i love doing so - i apologize if it's not your forte. y/n is being addressed as Intern bc i want to make her an oc but am afraid of the commitment so lol i hope you give it a chance anyway ♡

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | see masterlist for all other fics ♡

vibes: just an intern playlist ⛓️

This girl is a gun, before you know it, it’s done

And you’ll be wishing that you crossed your fingers

- Girl is a Gun - Halsey -

-AUSTIN-

I closed Intern’s hotel room door behind me after our argument. I headed towards the front desk, scuffing my feet across the glossy wood floor, my hand gripping the handles of my duffle bag. The hallways of the lodge were always so vacant despite being overly booked. The silence only amplified the cycling thoughts in my head. I didn’t know what the fuck I was thinking – talking to her like that, talking about her like that. I didn’t know what comes over me when I was around her.

But I felt it that first day in the trailer, this insatiable feeling of hatred. Everything about her annoyed the fuck out of me, and yet all my body wants to do is get on my knees and bury my tongue in her pussy. I shook my head of the thought. That’s what I got for being on a social media detox. I thought of hopping on Hinge or whatever app just to find something to fuck. But decided against it – besides, we were stuffed like abominable snowmen in that fucking wooden cage. Another idea of finding one of the extras to hook up with lit up like a glass bulb in my head, but it quickly dimmed. Extras were too easy, and desperation seeped through their pores like dirty nicotine. There was no challenge, no fun. And so, it destined to be a long, lonely night.

Regardless of the confinement and inconvenience, this little unplanned vacation brought a much-needed gift – no service. At least very little and I didn’t bother paying for wi-fi. I needed a break from my managers, and the unforeseen weather anomaly gave me an excuse to ignore them completely. If I ignored the rumors that were festering like an open wound on Twitter or the looming tension of the next big scandal, maybe it would all go away.

I’d always been quite good at that – ignoring and avoiding anything that bothered me.

-

Thankfully the extra room was still available and once inside I swung my leather duffle bag onto a blue fabric-covered wingback chair. I let out a sigh and pressed myself against the wooden dresser that was identical to the one in the room I shared with Intern. I both felt and heard a loud hunger pain rumble in my stomach and that’s when I remembered that the last thing I had eaten was those fries from the night before. I tugged at my bottom lip with my teeth and tapped my fingertips along the dresser assessing my options. The memory of the heaping bowl of fries – drenched in salt and grease – looped in my brain. Layered atop that memory came a sense of guilt, I couldn’t tell if it was about the meal or my actions in the lounge bar. Either way it evoked the same response.

Another loud hunger growl ripped through me and I rolled my eyes at the dramatics of my empty stomach. I pushed myself off the wooden furniture and went to the glass-door mini fridge. I tugged it open and steal a branded water, cracking it open and taking a sip. The cold water immediately soothed the length of my esophagus and pooled satisfaction in my belly.

-4 Days Later-

When the snow melted, it took the peace of my cellular detox with it. Being snowed in on a mountain top was no longer a suitable excuse for neglecting the incessant phone calls and Twitter news updates from my management team. For those couple days in that stupid little lodge, I was able to just fucking breathe for the first time in months.

Not surprisingly, word got to the higher ups about the fight with her, they even heard about the small fight with Landon. I was reprimanded three separate times because of the events. If it weren’t for my integral role in the film’s publicity I would’ve surely been dropped. My career was hanging by a thread as it was, I needed to get my shit together. If anything got leaked it would collapse the shit storm that my team was so precariously balancing for me.

The three of us, Landon, Intern and I were all temporarily separated to different areas on set for the past few days. They finally brought on another makeup artist; a flamboyant man named Nick. Nick took over my makeup in the time we were separated. While he seemed to be relatively the same skill level as Intern, he was placed under her, making her his direct manager. I suppose he was the new “Intern” now, but she’d always be that for me – whatever that meant.

I regretted everything with her. Everything. The good and the bad. I didn’t know why I was so awful to her, only that she infuriated me so much.

And yet, I found myself noticing her absence on my side of the set. I noticed the lack of fluttery annoyance she usually brought and the quippy banter we’d exchange. I even noticed the quiet that filled the days without our incessantly heated back-and-forth. I noticed everything about her being gone. Perhaps noticed wasn’t the right word.

Maybe I missed the noise.

That morning we had new girls on set for some bar scenes and they needed more intricate makeup so, Intern was back in my domain. There was some unsettling feeling that came with her proximity, a confusion perhaps.

There were three new extras for this scene, a girl-next-door brunette, a freckly redhead and a busty blonde. On any other day, the blonde would be wrapped around my finger but today she was about as enticing as a plain bagel. That didn’t mean stop her though.

The petite blonde sporting frayed jean shorts and a plain white v-neck eyed me, while she stood next to the other extras and Intern. Her sauntered over to where I was leaned on my bike only a few feet from them. I squinted the sun out of my eye to look up at her, “Can I help you?” I asked, sounding more bothered than welcoming.

“Sure ya can darlin’” Her pink filled lips curled to a flirtatious smirk with a poorly mimicked southern accent.  “You can take me for a ride.”

I offered a small scoff, “Didn’t realize I looked like a ferris wheel.” The remark made her light brows scrunch in a confused way, like when a mall-santa claus is rude. I felt a pair of eyes on me instantly, but when I followed the feeling I was disappointed by the origin. Tom. He shot a warning glare reminding me that I needed to behave to prevent further repercussions. It annoyed me but it was a necessary reminder and I quickly turned on my press charm. I gave her a forced smile, “Sorry, I’ve just had a hard morning.” At least I was honest.

“It’s okay I forgive ya, my name’s Chloe.” The edges of her glossy lips turned upwards and stepped a foot at each side of my crossed ones. “Maybe I could make your day better.” Her suggestive voice quiet but not quite enough. My gaze wandered to Intern who’s face visibly twisted at the overheard remark but focusing on adding eyeshadow to the redhead’s eyes.

“Hey,” Snapped the blonde extra snapping fingers in front of my face bring my attention back to her, “I just gave you a pretty good offer and you can’t even look at me?”

Annoyance bubbled in me that I had swallow down.

Bitch I wouldn’t touch you with a 10-foot pole

-Is what I wanted to say but instead, “Sorry like I said, I had a shit morning.”

“Incredible, “ She sneered and propped her hands on her hips, “You’re exactly the monster the media portrays you to be.”

The last thing I needed was this dumb blonde who had only known me all of 5 seconds to be setting me off at 7 in the fucking morning. My jaw clenched holding back what I wanted to say but I knew my transparent poker face was giving away just how pissed I was getting. “Listen bi-“ I caught myself, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. “Chloe, you don’t know me at all, and I don’t think you should make assumptions of someone you barely know.” Attempting my best at keeping my temper tame.

An infuriatingly taunting cackle slipped her lips, “You know I didn’t believe the accusations, but I bet you really did everything that Madi-”

I shot up so fast I nearly knocked over my bike, “You don’t get to come on my set and talk to me like that, about shit you have no fucking idea about.” The hiss came out more apprehensive than I would’ve liked. I didn’t dare look over at Intern, I just prayed she wasn’t paying attention. I knew what she thought of me, she could think whatever she wanted. But her hearing any of the latest rumors swirling about me, would somehow be worse than anything I could’ve done to her.

She laughed at the fear in my tone, “Your set? You’re lucky you even landed this role with everything-“

“Who the fuck are you? You’re far too cocky for an extra, know your fucking place.” I growled, shoving past her and headed into the saloon set where we’d be filming.

I curled fingers so tightly into my palms as I heard steps following me, a vein pulsed in my forehead ready to burst open. I quickly pivoted back around, “What the fuck do y-” But instead of Chloe I found Intern, “Oh, hi.” My tone much softer, “What do you, um, what do you want?”

“I need to do your makeup.” She stated firmly while keeping her eyes focused on my chest, not looking at me.

“Right.” I nodded and followed her when she turned and walked towards her tented makeup station. I pulled myself onto the wood and fabric chair as she mixed up some foundation onto a metal palette. Then, she took a smooth flat brush and began painting the product down my face.

“So,” I hesitated as an awkward fog suspended in the air, “How’ve you been?”

She clenched her jaw and stayed silent.

“Isn’t it a little ridiculous that they separated us on set over a little rumor-”

“I see you found a new victim.” She sliced flatly, still not looking at me.

“Chloe?” I scoffed and her eyes snapped at me with a I’m-not-stupid glare. I sighed, I knew she wasn’t buying it, “Chloe? Are you kidding me?” I asked, then remembered how we got here in the first place.

She just raised her eyebrows in a ‘that’s not totally unbelievable’ kind of way.

I looked up at the tent as she patted makeup below my eyes with a small round brush. “If you think my taste is so low that I’d touch Chloe – you must not think very highly of yourself.”

She pressed her lips together before speaking again, “I just didn’t think you had standards, that’s all.” Her tone was light & bubbly, but the intention clearly wasn’t.

Anger began to pipe hot steam into my chest for the second time that early morning. I swore she tried to provoke me on purpose. My hands curled around the thick wooden arm rests and my nails dug into the grain. “And to think I almost missed you.” Her now powdered swiping motions halted as soon as she processed my words, her hand just barely trembling and her eyes locked on the area she was working. I couldn’t tell if I was mortified or glad that the words had left my mouth. Either way, it felt freeing, like I had finally told some secret I’d been hiding.

She continued finishing the work on my face in silence and stepped back. She set the black barreled brush down and kept her eyes low as she went to speak. “You’re done. Get out of my chair.”

-

I never thought pretending to seduce a pretty girl on screen would be as difficult as it was in my scene with Chloe. Regardless I felt Intern’s glare on me the entire time. My ego wanted to think it was jealousy but after what I pulled at the ski lodge and just before in the makeup chair, I knew it definitely wasn’t jealousy. Why the fuck would she be jealous after everything I’d done. Regardless, her stare burned like hot coals into my skin.

Directors cut for a 30 and I snatched a water bottle dodging every cast or crew member to find my bike. In the months of filming the vehicle had become some sort of comfort for me. Maybe it was me tapping into my character or the fact that it was the only thing that was constant, the only thing I could control.

I propped myself against the Harley unscrewing the cap of the bottle with a crack and taking a much-needed gulp. Before I could escape, Intern was making a b-line for me and I braced myself for whatever acid she was about to spew at me. But she walked past me, knocking my shoulder back and in a curt, but stern, tone, “I need to put something on your face.” Heading towards a trailer.

I let out a sigh, knowing whatever she was going to say would be even worse than I could imagine. I deserved it of course, but that didn’t make it any easier. I followed her to the trailer, pausing before the metallic door and taking a deep inhale before tugging it open. “We have no fight scenes Intern,” I exhaled clicking the door in place behind me, “What could you possibly need to put on my face?”

She straightened up, crossed her arms and puffed her chest out a bit appearing more intimidating, though there wasn’t much threatening about her. “Me.” She stated seriously, though her attempt at being menacing was almost comical.

“What?” I slightly stuttered not fully processing her words.

She shifted from one foot to the other before regaining her anger-fueled confidence. “I want to be on your face, I want to cash in my apology.” She blurted out quickly.

“I mean- I’m not saying no but just…why?” I questioned; I didn’t expect her to ever cash it in, nonetheless so soon.

“You and Chloe are fucking annoying and I just-“ Her was flustered, a light pink tinging her cheeks. Her fist balled at her side. “I don’t know, I just want my apology.” Her tone laced with false conviction. “I want my apology.”

“Okay…” I stated timidly, eyeing her wearily, “Are you sure?”

“Shut the fuck up and eat me out.” She sniped back, catching me off guard.

“Well I-“ Instinctively going to argue then realizing I had absolutely no problem with her request so, I shrugged, “Okay.” I looked her over, taking her in fully. I was trying to strategize how I was going to fulfil her request. She wore one of her flowy dresses, the ones that drive me insane – this one was powder blue with little white flowers. The dress hugged every part of her I enjoyed the most – it was tight around her waist and ruched around her full chest. The rest flowed down around her hips and thighs. I said a silent thank you to the universe for making it a warmer day. My gaze must’ve lingered on her too long because she took matters into her own hands.

“Jesus Fucking Christ.” She groaned impatiently, taking my face in her hands and practically smashing our lips together.

I let the inherent magnetism between us take over and took her face in my hands connecting our lips. She froze beneath my touch but quickly gave in, reciprocating the passionate kiss. Having her lips on mine again felt like a sip of cold water after a long drought – like an addict getting their first fix after sobriety. Her hands tangled into my perfectly styled hair for whatever scene I was meant to do next. Her tongue asked for entrance and I met hers voraciously. My hands trailed down to her sides and shoved her into the nearest wall. “Fuck.” I breathed out with my forehead pressed against hers. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes fluttered up at me with flushed cheeks. “Make me believe it.”

My fingertips were on fire every place they met her skin, and I could’ve sworn I had become a vampire from how every part of me was screaming to sink my teeth into her neck. But the sugar high I was getting from her lips won the battle. Pulling away for a fleeting second, “I’m sorry.” I said against her lips.

Almost completely in sync, she wrapped her arms around my neck as I picked her up effortlessly pulling her legs around my hips. I carried her over to one of the empty makeup vanities and sat her on the edge – all while our lips were still locked with our tongues dancing in time. I drew away again, cupping her cheeks in my rugged hands, gazing down at her lust-dazed eyes, “I’m sorry.”

There was a glimmer in her eyes that made me think maybe she believed that one. “Beg for it.” She demanded.

My hands squeezed her thighs all the way up to her hips, pulling her dress up with it. I swiftly grasped her hips and drew her to the very edge of the table. I began peppering kisses down her neck, she tilted her head to the side for more access. “I’m sorry.” I mumbled against the skin below her ear and she let out a small whine.

“Keep going.” She breathed out, her body melting and reacting to my touch.

I pulled her skin into a suck, just soft enough to not leave a mark, “I’m sorry.”

“More.”

“I’m sorry.” Working my way down till I reached her collar bones. My hands trailed up her sides, lingering on the curves I liked most before they molded around her breasts. She let out another small moan as my thumbs traced over her peaked nipples through the sheer dress.

Her breath hitched as my lips savored every inch of her skin down her chest, “More.”

I kneeled in front of her, her legs easily parted for me and already had a damp spot on her baby pink panties. I trailed soft, but hungry, kisses up her thigh, accompanying each one with an apology. I hooked my index fingers at the waist band and slowly pulled down her panties down her legs, tossing them only a few feet from us.

“I’m sorry.” I mumbled against her lips and I could feel her writhing beneath my mouth. I drew my tongue slowly up her folds, tasting the juices I thought I’d never taste again. I let out a grown from her flavor and it gained a hand tangled in my hair, rougher than normal.

I swirled my tongue over her clit and she let out a surprised moan. “Fuck, Austin.” She struggled to get out. Her response only fueled my work on her. My tongue swirled around her swollen nub and my hand traveled up her thigh. I teased her at her entrance with my middle and ring finger before slowly sliding them in. She let out a slow whine as they slid inside her and began pumping into her sweet spot. In a rhythmic manner, my fingers and tongue danced where she needed me.

“You taste so fucking good.” I hummed against her heat as her juices filled my mouth and ran down my fingers. She tasted sweet, sweet like honey and I ate her like I had an insatiable sweet tooth.

My work on her distracted me from how hard I was, painfully restrained in my jeans. My free hand went to unzip them to fuck myself while I devoured her, but she tugged at my hair. “No.” She growled. “This an apology is to me, and you don’t deserve to feel good.”

This was new for me. I’d never had a woman talk like to me during sex before. But there was something so fucking sexy about it and it only made my cock throb more for her.

It seemed her little shift into dominance turned her on just as much as it did me, her moans increasing in volume and her hand gripping my hair-spray drenched hair. I knew she was close with the way her walls clenched around my fingers and her legs trembled around my head. I gazed up at her as she began coming undone – I always thought women were their most beautiful in the throughs of their orgasm, but this was different. The way she glowed in her climax made me want to keep making her look like that. She was angelic and her moans were harmonies – the sort of songs you just want to replay over and over, practically getting high off of them.

Sometimes I would get this twist in my stomach when I’m in business meetings where I know the executives are swindling me, or when I’m in interviews and I can tell they’re going to butcher my words for a scandal. In college I’d get it when I was at parties that would get raided or in high school when intimidating seniors would corner me. That looming churn bloomed in my stomach whenever I was in danger – and I could feel it when I looked at her just then.

Once she was finally spent, I hesitantly pulled myself up from the floor and wiped the excess juices from my mouth. I watched her, disheveled with her chest heaving, still coming down from the high. “So, am I forgiven?”

Her hooded eyes weakly reached mine. I expected there to be more light in them than before, I expected them to be softer and less angry. She pulled herself off the table and smoothed out her dress before looking me dead in the eyes, “No. Not even close.” She took a step closer to me. “But it’s definitely a start.” She spoke with a tone that felt like I was just the gum under her shoe.

She glared at me as if she was disgusted with how I made her feel and tugging the hefty trailer door open and disappearing behind it. It was only then that I realized how utterly foolish it was to think that eating her cunt would erase all the damage I’d done.

I recognized that warning sign in my stomach when I looked at her.

She was a warning I needed to head.

-3 Days Later-

We were stationed along a long dirt road getting various riding and chase scenes. Bikes lined the side of the sandy road having to cut scenes constantly due to the still wet mud from last night’s unprecedented rain gunking up our tires and covering the ever-important sponsored logos on the bikes. The excessive wind whipping sand against us was also causing interruptions as Intern had to keep cleaning us up and reapplying. Between the shitty weather, the constant interruptions, and our fucking directors still hounding my ass harder since the ski lodge debacles, the day was not going well, and my patience was wearing thin.

I stood just beside my bike, trying to just breathe through the aggravation from the last cut as Intern used a brush to flick off the sand that had built up on my face. She used her pinky to dust off some extra then returned to the brush. Even though the brush was probably the softest thing I’d ever felt, it still mimicked steel wool compared to her touch. Out of everything that happened between us, and out of every memory that would make itself known to me, her touch was the one that lingered the longest. Sure, I thought about that night in the hotel where my cock was buried inside her as she rode me, or when I chained her to the trailer door… I thought about them a lot. But the ones that flickered constantly in my brain like flashing clicks of paparazzi cameras, was us in the hot tub or on the floor of that disgusting restaurant we broke into. My body seemed to remember her warmth on me when she was clinging onto me in the tub or when she held my face as I kissed her on the floor.

I’d never had memories or fantasies rile me up just as much as sexual ones. But my hands burned at the thought of touching her again, they ached just to be on her. I felt it when she was near me, when she touched me. It was magnetic. My cock craved her, of course, but my hands did too – it was something so foreign to me. And I fucking hated it.

It couldn’t happen again. I couldn’t let this happen again. Especially not after the warning siren that blared in the pit of my stomach every time she looked at me. One bitch was already on track to nearly ruin my career, I didn’t need another one. And from our track record, Intern wasn’t looking like the safest option anyway – already causing me fuck up in front of our cast and crew.

She was a warning I needed to head

I just needed to make it through the holidays and the rest of shooting, and I’d be done. I could forget all about her.

I kept my eyes on the floating clouds above us, just letting my thoughts flow in my head when I heard my bike engine rev and felt a splash of thick mud coat the side of my body. The sharp squeal from Intern told me she’d been hit too. “What the fuck!” Looking over at a stagehand, Ryan, the same one from the truth or dare debacle, being the only evidence of a culprit with hands on the vehicle.

He let out a cocky laugh, “Sorry man, was just tryin’ to clean up the bike.”

“You ruined my brushes!” Exclaimed Intern as she looked over the leather brush roll that thankfully covered all the products inside the cosmetic case. While the products inside were safe, her entire arsenal of tools were covered in mud.

This was the tipping point of the day, everything that had pissed me off culminated into the rage that coursed through me. The fact that it was Ryan and that I was now coated in mud, but most of all it was the mud on Intern’s brushes. I made it into Ryan’s face faster than I thought and grabbed him by his shirt. The threats from the directors and management were now faint memories as I held his shirt wrapped around my wrist. “What the fuck were you thinking.” I growled in his face.

“Austin! Let him go!” Shouted one of the crew members but I was too blinded with anger to decipher who.

“Who fucking told you you could touch my bike?” My fist tightening around the dark material.

Yet Ryan looked unbothered, “Sorry man, was just tryna clean it up.” He repeated though his voice was laced in competitive snide.

“Austin!” An even more aggressive shout, “Take a thirty!”

“I can’t work on anything more!” Perked up Intern shouting across set, her forced innocent voice didn’t fool me, she was livid. “My brushes are fu- ruined!”

“Fine. All three of you, call it a day. Go home.” Followed by a ‘Jesus fucking Christ’ muttered beneath the director’s tone.

I released Ryan’s shirt and shoved him back, “Fine, I’m fucking out of here.” Rounding the bike, throwing my leg over it and kicking off the stand.

Before I even moved, I glanced over at Intern looking absolutely defeated and furious, picking through her now destroyed tools.

“You comin’?” I asked over the engine rumbling, and she snapped her head up. Her frustrated watery eyes swirled with conflict; I knew she didn’t want to come with me, but I could get her out of there. She looked around weighing her options and ultimately her anger won. Her gaze landed on Nick, who gave her a little nod saying ‘I got this, go ahead’.

She quickly paced over to me, “Get me the fuck out of here.” She snapped in a whisper, and swung her leg over behind me, wrapping both arms around my torso.

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If you'd like to be tagged in Part 4.2 + further parts, please comment 🩶

thank you all SO much for all the love and support on this story, it has truly been overwhelming. i know my numbers aren't as big as others but they're big to me - appreciate EVERY comment, message, ask, etc. even if i’m not the best at replying 😭 i love you guys so much - i never expected this fic to get that much attention so again, thank you xx

if you enjoyed this story/my writing pls consider giving my main fic, Forever Winter, a read - if you like angsty sad smutty you’ll probably like it lol

also pls consider giving this a like, comment or reblog ♡

[ofmermaidstories]

1. Not really....? It's hard to figure out my actual thoughts on it but I guess, Self-inserting for me feels like it's designed for one person in mind (whoever is being inserted) when x reader can be anyone? And from what I've seen, the content is a bit different.

2. Probably? Definitely. But will I be the person criticizing it? No... I'm not really the type to be vocal about my grievances outside of the occasional personal aside. I usually just don't trust what I have to say is constructive. But I do love hearing what other people have to say.

3. Everything

Jkjk, um.... I'd say my motivation and writing style? (That doesn't fall under everything, right?) I just don't write very effectively. Like- I have a story in my head, but actually putting it down in writing, I kinda just wing it? Like write as I go. Which is fun for developing character lore, or short stories. It leads to a lot of stop and go with longer works, and the problem with that is that it looks clunky! If I'm an a completely different state of my mind than I was when I started a piece the words I put down don't really flow well with what came before. So I have to read and reread what's already been written and play mediator by finding a way to transition from one feeling to the next.

I mostly write for friends or for fun, though, so it's forgivable.

the content being different for self-inserting vs x reader is such an important distinction!! like. also in how you engage with it, too? like—i’m always interested in self-shippy stuff from a, best friend at brunch kinda way, you know? like “YESSSS tell me more, omg, you guys are sooo cute together 🥹” whereas if someone is like, bits&pieceing about an idea for a x reader setup, i’m engaging with it as a reader, like, oh, i am interested in whatever this this piece or fic is trying to lure us in with.

i keep running into i guess… fan-only spaces, for varying Big Fics? and they’re always so interesting to scroll through, because it’s just either people gushing about Said Fic, or like, recommending similar ones, OR it’s someone starting a conversation (a tiktok is the example i’m thinking of) being like, “deku wouldn’t wear fishnets” and then like, everyone who’s had similar grievances just like, jumping in LOL. none of it—the universal loving and the dismissal—is like.. in any way truly critical? it’s just people who’ve found each other agreeing over varying things. true constructive criticism (at least in fanfics) is hard… because you do have to seperate yourself from, “is this just not for me” vs. “i see and understand where this story is trying to land, but i don’t think it makes it” and even then you kinda have to… justify it, you know? like, is it not landing because it’s missed the mark, or do you just wish it did something different? and what i like about fanfic is that we (ideally) afford each other the—generosity of forgiving things, LOL. and i guesssss my original question is more… does becoming a mega, fandom-defining fic mean the fic then loses the privilege of that generosity? i think it must create a distance between it and the fandom it’s from, in a way… it sort of takes on the same… almost for-granted quality we might have with a published book? are we removing ourselves from it, by holding it up? HMMM. questions questions ig LOL.

with no. 3—flow is hard!!! 🥺 do you have any like, rituals or anything to get yourself back into the mindset you had, before picking up the piece again? if i leave off in the middle of a scene or whatever that needs to stick to a specific mood i listen to my playlist for the fic, or whatever. 🥹 it kinda helps to limber everything back up again. but—i mean!!! as long as you have fun with it, in the end. 🥺 the process of writing takes up so much time… we need to enjoy it, in some small way. especially if the end result is for friends and fun. 🥹

[lunarcrown]

i absolutely love hels to pay like i have devoured your entire blog in one day. and i mean your Entire Blog. ive scrolled back to like when htp first started and that is a lot of scrolling let me tell you.

can i just say that this has taken over my entire life. your au has literally a 24/7 space in my brain i am always thinking about it. bravo this tango that, my sister and friends are SICK of me. dude the artwork and the writing is just so incredible!!!! i have fics of my own that need updating but i literally cannot think of anything except this.

and oh my god i want so badly to write a fic for this. i would draw something but i am terrible genuinely terrible. i actually have something outlined and i want so badly to write it but i physically Cannot think of writing anything right now because This is just in my mind like there's no space to write my own stuff.

i have like five LONG playlists ORDERED CHRONOLOGICALLY for this au. not even kidding. LIKE THATS HOW IN LOVE I AM WITH THIS. and i read this two days ago. what. how do you two manage to do this. climbed your way into my heart with stunning art and heartwrenching writing wooooow.

i hope you're happy you have literally taken over my brain 😍

OmGGG YOU ARE SO KIND AND COOL FOR SENDINH THIS!!!! Very nice person award for you 🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅

It’s WILD how much we have made since back in the first days of the AU so THANKS FOR THE SCROLL I know it was a LOT but I’m so glad you had fun!!!!

It totally blows my mind that you’re even talking to your friends and fam IRL about it bc I always wonder if people do and how wild it is to think about people like out loud musing about these characters to another living breathing human??? Bc like I do it for sure since my sisters MUST listen to all my things or I’ll explode, but OTHER people doing it??? Buckwild

So thank you for that as well! I’m so glad that Aqua’s writing and my art has compelled this storyline to travel the internet and into your waking thoughts, and that you’re enjoying it HAHA

If you EVER write the thing you want, pleaaaase show us!! We love looking at gift stuff like that SO MUCH!! Our dms are us being excited about yalls excitement 24/7 BELIEVE ME

And FIVE playlists after just two days of absorbing?? You are in BEAST MODE I LOVE IT!!!!

Thank you again SO MUCH!! I hope you enjoy what we keep making because if you can’t tell, we REALLY enjoy making this AU and I hope it shines through just as much as yalls enjoyment shows for us!! 💖💖💖

[he0524]

🍓🌵

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

I got into writing ff as a young child! My favourite TV show at the time had a canon pairing that I absolutely loved, and before I knew it, I was writing fanfiction for them.

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

I love editing! Less so for my own work (because then I get sucked into the lovely hole of rewriting sentences and paragraphs), but I love editing for my partner. It makes me feel accomplished, knowing that I put my all into a piece of work (when I edit my own stuff), and bonus: a snippet into WIPs before they're published! ;)

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

I absolutely love @rafiel_ahi (ao3) for her JJ/Emily (Criminal Minds) work. She has such an attention to detail and her imagery that she manages to capture never ceases to amaze me. Other authors that I can't recommend enough are @jazzfordshire (Tumblr/Ao3) for their Supercorp (Supergirl) fics, and last but not least, @englishstrawbie for their Maya/Carina (Station 19) fics. Fun fact, yours (@jmflowers) was the very first work on Ao3 that I read for the Marina pairing, and I absolutely fell in love!

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

I believe there's a rabbit on the moon! (Not really, haha, obvs). Instead of the traditional "man on the moon" trope, I was told as a young child that there was a rabbit on the moon, and when it's a full moon, I like to see that I can see the outline of his ears. He is apparently pounding some fermented beans up there.

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

I wholeheartedly believe that Maya is a bottom in their relationship, both in the bedroom and out of the bedroom ;)

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

I have a lovely, incredible partner who supports me in all that I do.

I'm so!close! to getting my postgrad degree! (Although this isn't a "good" thing right now because it's making me so stressed, haha! But I am so grateful that I have the opportunity to keep studying).

I have lovely pets that always make me laugh, no matter how stressed I am (Clementine, Lemon, Fig, and Peach, my ratties, and my little doggie who's been with me since I too was a smol bean).

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Definitely dirty-talk in Italian, haha! Perks of being a smut writer *hides*

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

That I've captured the characters as they are in canon! Something about that compliment makes me so giddy and excited. I appreciate all comments so much through.

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing? 

Sometimes I hear spicy-ish songs that remind me of Marina, or even love/heartbreak songs that make me internally SOB with the thought of what they went through during Maya's infidelity.

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

It's a combination of letters and numbers that are of personal importance to me! :)

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

Work that doesn't have the appropriate grammar, or poor spacing. Each character talking starts on a new line! If it's just a whole paragraph of multiple dialogues, my brain cannot handle it and I click away :(

Thank you so, so much for all these questions! I'm about to pop some into your own inbox too :) I had so much fun answering them (and procrastinating my write-up, haha).

[oathkeeperoxas]

AO3 wrapped!

Respond to this with what you would call the top 5 fanfics you’ve read in 2022. Any genre! Any ship! (Bonus points: if you’re a creator, make this a 5+1 and include your favorite fic you wrote in 2022!)

Then leave this in your friends’ asks too. Let’s give creators one more spotlight before the year ends, and share some of what we’ve enjoyed along the way!

You sending this: haha it'll be a fun way to wrap up the year!

Me for the past 2 weeks thinking about this nonstop every time I have a spare second: what WERE my top fics of 2022??

I've carefully picked out the below, but there are many, many, MANY fics that I enjoyed this year, so picking just 5 was so hard okay 😭 that being said, all of these are codywan recs except one (besides codywan and TOA fic I don't think I read anything else this year... Well, besides The Desert Storm which is an ongoing series, but which I recommend to every person, whether you like Star Wars and whether you like time travel or not). I've posted the below fics in the order I read them so no favouritism in the order they're listed!

this road is meant for two [10.2k] by @skatzaa

“Cody,” came a voice from behind him. The Jedi. The traitor. “Run. Use your jet pack.” “Shut up,” CC-2224 snarled. He could barely see through the pain, but he leveled his blaster rifle again. “I’m not leaving you behind again, General—”

This was my gift for FFFX and let me say I seriously won the jackpot with this one!! It really has so so much tailored for me, like time travel of codywan from tatooine into a clone wars fix it, the angst of purge trooper Cody and him struggling with what he did, trans Obi-Wan, hurt/comfort, established relationship, it was funny, and most importantly, Palps got killed 😊

Good Soldiers [7.2k] by @elwenyere

“Have I ever commended you on the vast array of sentiments you manage to convey with your ‘sirs’?” Obi-Wan asked wryly. “Someday I will persuade you to drop the appearance of formality - at least when you’re telling me I’m full of shit.” “You’re welcome to keep believing that, sir,” Cody allowed. “Everyone needs something to look forward to.” The rest of Obi-Wan’s smile faded, his expression growing thoughtful. “Yes,” he murmured, “I suppose they do.” ----- Or, 5 Times Cody and Obi-Wan Followed Orders + 1 Time They Followed Each Other

I just remember reading this summary, and even before I clicked it I was like YES!!!! This person understands the characters and their dynamic and the prose is excellent, this fic is going to be freaking awesome. And I was right! It balances character growth and plot brilliantly, and the construction of each section is so thoughtful and combines into an incredibly crunchy whole. I was so disappointed when I checked the author's profile to find that this was their only codywan fic, but elwen has since graced us with many excellent works, and I recommend anything that she has written!

Thirty-One Sons, Thirteen Moons [32.7k] by sual

“This can’t keep happening,” Jango says despairingly. He’s said this almost every year for the past twenty-five of them. “Well,” Cody slowly replies, looking down at the squalling baby the witch has left on their doorstep, “what’s one more mouth to feed when you’re already feeding thirty?" - In Cody's latest attempt to sacrifice himself for his family, he finally learns how to want something for himself. Modern AU with magic.

Urban fantasy is my favourite genre, and this fic captures everything I adore about it - the inclusion of magic into the setting is so natural and informs the plot deliciously. I usually am a very hard sell on modern AUs and on relationships of convenience, but the excellent writing and Obi-Wan's gender fuckery got me hooked, and I'm so very glad I gave this one a chance. It's such a great idea, executed super awesomely and the smut throughout is sooo hot augh

Meg & Apollo's Highly Limited Roadtrip Playlist [3.2k] by Curioser [and the prequel as a bonus!]

Fourteen hundred miles. Four radio stations. Two friends trying hard not to kill each other, or to acknowledge the fact that in less than a week, they may never see each other again. And Lizzo. So much Lizzo.

Reading this immediately after finishing the TOA books made me sooooooo emo like you have NO idea!!! Meg and Apollo's relationship was the core part of TOA that I enjoyed the most, and this fic made me see that relationship in a different light, gave me a different view as this is from Meg's POV instead of Apollo's like the books are, and introduced me to a whole bunch of new music too. It feels far too short for the amount of gutpunches contained within - the comparisons between their fathers, their situations and lives, and how they're coping with that, all made me sooo overwhelmed like aaaaaa *insert screaming cat meme* they're best friends. They're best friends!!!!

shelter from the storm [3.1k] by @inkformyblood

A sandstorm means that Cody and Obi-Wan have to spend days inside. They find ways to pass the time. - Obi-Wan’s voice is low and Cody can almost picture his expression despite not quite being able to pick out his features; the incline to his head is almost hungry, his eyes half-lidded and thoughtful. “I’m sure you have several suggestions already.” “Only several?” Cody punctuates the question with a kiss, drawing Obi-Wan’s hand to his mouth rather than chance finding his mouth in the semi-shadows. The split lip hadn’t been worth it with the benefit of hindsight, regardless of how attractive the gesture had seemed at the time. Cody’s lips brush against the rough edge of a bacta patch, an old one worn and reused until it is more placebo than curative, but Cody still skirts around the edge of it, kissing the seams of Obi-Wan’s fingers and tasting salt.

This was another gift for me and it is just so so so good 🥺 I love how magpie writes codywan as the flow between them, their characters, their banter and their relationship is so lovely and amazing! Codywan on tatooine are my favourite version of codywan, and it is nailed here - the yearning and the grief and the closeness that comes from being the only two people in the galaxy. Plus trans Obi-Wan has my whole heart, which was the cherry on top of the rest of this excellent fic

Plus 1 - the favourite fic you wrote in 2022

Whaaaat a question, oof. This was hard, but I've picked the one that I enjoyed writing the most, as well as one I've reread a dozen times or so this year since I think I did a good job in it!

Stand By Me [34.7k] by Serie11

Cody and Obi-Wan renovate a house together out in the Dune Sea. Along the way, they discover something else worth keeping.

I wrote this in like 4 weeks as a gift for Emi, and the process came together to really deliver what I wanted, and Emi really enjoyed it, so it was just a really enjoyable process the whole way through!

[beautifulmakkaris]

B, C, D, M, S, T

Im interested to see your responses.

Thank you for asking :))

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

HAHAHAH so embarrassing but it's golden (like daylight) was inspired by the fact that I like being the big spoon in my relationship and I thought Lucy would be too

C: What character do you identify with most?

I realised I wrote a lot of my Eternals/Drukkari fic from Druig's POV because I too am in love with Makkari LMAO. Jokes aside, I don't tend to relate too much to characters I write because I like working out their headspaces instead of being stuck in my own for a while. I will say I identified with Lucy in L&Co as a nothern girly myself a lot when she complained about the lack of gravy.

D: Is there a song or a playlist to associate with [insert fic]?

Ooh, no but if anyone wanted to put together one or had ideas for one to share with me I'd love that! I have playlists for all the ships I've written for but they're all very broad and have like 100+ songs because I'm useless at curating them haha

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you'd care to share?

Answered here! Although I'm feeling nice, so I'll tell you that the song I've picked to fill the day six prompt for locklyle week is Cornelia Street by Taylor Swift so go listen to that in preparation :))

S: Any fandom tropes you can't resist?

Omg SO MANY!! I love a good 'there's only one bed', fake dating (as long as there is communication before anything real happens!!), 'quick kiss me as a distraction/because someone's coming', going undercover together, lots of really fun ones that lead to cute situations.

T: Any fandom tropes you can't stand?

I always think its really important to remember that fanfic is something that someone has taken the time to write for no reason other than its something they were passionate about, so even if its not my cup of tea, as long as its not exploitative or offensive or bashing on a character/concept just to be mean, I don't really have a problem with it - I just won't read it! AO3 has tags for a reason, filter what you want to read and let other people enjoy what you don't :)

[hua-fei-hua]

hey! i stumbled across you on ao3 through genshin (i think? that was in september i have no idea at this point), went to check out your profile and saw my hero academia works there. i am currently very much into it, so i was like let's gooo sooo I found B♭ and that has been a wild journey.

firstly, i don't have any experience with american school system, so a lot of worldbuilding was new for me. moreover, marching band is something from another universe(aka music lover but never got educated on the matter), so fic constantly challenged me with new details-concepts-vocabulary. stepping outside of your comfort zone while reading? great idea! i think i never learned so much from a fic while enjoying it so much ^^

secondly, i am simply amazed by sheer amount of effort you put into it. i decided to read in publishing order, so non-chronological really impressed me. you're honestly a mastermind being able to pull that off. also, having a song for every chapter with specifically picked out lyrics relevant to the content is so, so cool! the diversity of your playlists should be astonishing, i'm jealous :)

thirdly, the characters are just so real. i love all the canon references, i love the reactions that don't feel exagerrated or too mild. they are acting...exactly as i would expect them to in that circumstances and setting. i just accepted leads' ways of thinking and reflecting so naturally

i also read the extra notes when they were available and just...how much thought is put in is mezmerising. for some reason i never thought pulling directly from your life experiences when writing? but it actually makes a lot of sense and it brought me some ideas to try out so hehe ;)

as i am very smart and hadn't scrolled down on the order post, i didn't see until quite late in the reading that the end of perfect harmony is published as notes, so that was a surprise. i understand your reasons and the fact that you're not even in the fandom anymore, but you mentioned in some extra notes that it's ok to ask for them even if years passed so...here i am three years after, complimenting B♭ :D

anyway, i finished it a couple of days ago, and even the notes are quite detailed. images of described shenanigans popped into my head just like that, and i really appreciate that you published them and i got to know what happened next!!

i actually wondered why were the comments disabled since i really wanted to comment on a few chapters bc your work deserves it so much...but yeah, that's what led me here so i guess congrats, you get my thoughts all nicely packed in one place ^_^

there's probably a lot of specific pieces, details, ideas i liked about B♭, so that is merely a summary of exciting things i remember!

i'll say goodbye using my favourite oneshot title:

thank you for the music ✩°｡⋆⸜(ू｡•ω•｡)

not gonna lie i'm kind of obsessed w/the way you just glossed over the fact that you (probably) found me through my (anonymous) genshin fics, which means you jumped through the (minimum three) hoops required to get here, my (named) fandom blog, and then proceed to gush abt a bnha series i did. like i would assume that if someone put in the effort to find my other fandom fics from my genshin stuff, then there must've been smth really worth looking into w/the genshin stuff lmao

for the sake of my mutuals' dashboards, since this ask is so long i'm just gonna chuck the whole (long) answer under a cut lol

anyway yes Bb!! the amt of effort n planning i put into that series was legitimately insane. i made school schedules for EVERY SINGLE BNHA CHARACTER and PUT IT ON A SPREADSHEET so that i could PLAN WHO COULD WALK WITH WHOM TO THEIR NEXT CLASSES n have PLOT-RELEVANT CONVERSATIONS LIKE THAT. i made little profiles for each of the characters, where i chose their favorite musical key (and why), how many years/instruments they play, and gave them each a funny little quote/catchphrase!!!

what possessed me to do this for ~20 different characters i honestly could not tell you

i definitely loved working on Bb a lot. i remember sitting down three years ago, practically to the day by this point, n hashing out the events of every single chapter to the epilogue, then reorganizing them into a proper timeline (i also kept a calendar in my notes with the chapters in order), all while occasionally looking out my bedroom window n thinking how wonderfully bright n warm n sunny the world was becoming again. bc really, 2019 was a very struggle year for me, n i didn't take the time to appreciate the sunlight then the way i have every year since. from there, i worked off that very strict outline, and most of the note-chapters that were eventually put up are primarily just copy-pasted straight from there.

i remember being on youtube a lot for music recs when working on perfect harmony too!! a bunch of them changed in the years btwn walking away from the series n actually publishing the notes (which were actually published mid-december last year, then backdated to 2020 a few days later ahaha), with a number of the tour arc alternate chapter title songs coming from songs that didn't even exist at the time of the fic's original planning. my mp3 collection grew a lot during the planning phases of Bb lmao.

i'm glad the characters felt so real!!! while no one character was based entirely off one single person i knew irl, one could say that writing Bb was a bit of a love letter to my time in high school band in some places, both the events i partook in n the people i knew there. it was a very "write what you know" type of fic.

anyway haha yeah the end of my bnha days were not fun, but i still loved Bb enough to hold onto the idea of returning to it Soon(tm) that i put off publishing the chapter notes for almost two years. even then, that was a difficult decision for me to make bc a part of me wasn't ready to close that chapter of my life. i think ultimately it was the best decision to make though, since the fics are p heavily tied up in a much sadder part of my life that i'd just rather not return to.

the main reason comments were turned off of Bb (and indeed, the majority of my bnha fics) is most simply described as "resentment". it's different from how i feel abt my old snk fics (where i turned comments off of them so that i could pretend no one's really reading them anymore), which is more impersonal "oh my god i was so young back then and i give fewer than negative shits abt any mistakes i might've made on them or what anyone thinks of them" bc in bnha it's kind of hard to avoid the fact that i had a Name in the circles i typically traversed for a while. it wasn't that big of a name, but it's certainly more than nothing.

it's not really a feeling i like to dwell on, so i just archive-locked the responsible works n turned off comments for the most heinous culprits (mostly sparklers, but even tho i love Bb as a story, i do not love Bb as a publishing experience, if that makes sense), and for the most part, that keeps the resentment contained.

still, i'm genuinely happy that you enjoyed the au so much!!! i honestly love love love how goddamn SPECIFIC the premises are for this fic. the world was truly built with love, and the music puns for every title were always such a joy to come up with c':

thank you for the ask!!!! :D

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 1 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fic

Here is chapter one of my new fanfic!

Title: Succession

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader, OCs

Rating: PG-13 for language and intense scenes (for now, this is a slow burn, but it will get very hot and spicy in later chapters)

Summary: You discover a long lost relative from Moldova that you didn’t know existed has died and you are his sole beneficiary.  You are on board a plane to collect your inheritance when your plane crashes in a village in Romania.

Author’s Notes: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

The music blasted from the car speakers as you drove down the main road towards the highway.  You had your phone plugged into your car stereo, your favorite Spotify playlist on shuffle.  Despite the A/C being on full blast, beads of sweat formed at your brow and rolled down your temple.  You adjusted the vents on either side of you, making sure the cold air directly hit your body.  The song that was playing had you tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, your head bopping to the beat.

The fridge at home was close to empty and it was beyond time for you to go grocery shopping.  The grocery list was secure in your purse and you were determined to stick to the items on the list and not make any frivolous purchases.  Money was tight and you only had so much money left before payday next week.

The song shut off suddenly followed by your ringtone.  Looking at the screen of your phone, UNKNOWN stared back at you. Probably a spam call, you thought to yourself, reaching to press the red Ignore button.  Unfortunately, your finger slid at the last minute and mistakenly tapped the Accept button. You watched as the call came through and the seconds ticked off.  FUCK!

“Hello?” you greeted with a hint of exasperation in your voice.

“Hello, am I speaking with Miss Y/N?” a heavily accented male voice responded.

“Yeah, this is she,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.  You tried your best to avoid these calls, ignoring them and letting them go straight to voicemail.  Very rarely was it followed with an actual message, which was more than fine with you.

“Miss Y/N, my name is Ron M. Dathermi.  I am a lawyer residing in Chisinau, Moldova in Eastern Europe…”

You raised your eyebrows at that.  Moldova?  Who the hell was calling you from Moldova?  Chalking it up to a scam, you were about to interrupt the man when he continued.

“...I wish I was calling under better circumstances, but I’m afraid I have some bad news.  Your great uncle, Serghei Popa, has passed away from a short illness and has named you his sole beneficiary…”

You couldn’t help the amused huff that came out of your mouth.  This must be some very elaborate scam.

“Umm...sorry, but I think you have the wrong person.  I don’t have family from Moldova and I have never heard of this man in my whole life.” You were about to hit the End button when Mr. Dathermi continued.

“Am I speaking with Y/N, born on (your birthday) to (your father and mother’s full names) and the granddaughter of (your grandfather and grandmother on both sides of your family)?”

Your eyes widened at that.  “Yeah, that’s me…” you answered.

“I know this may sound unusual, but Mr. Popa was the brother of your grandmother on your mother’s side.  He was given up for adoption at birth and taken in by a Moldovan family.  He did not have a spouse and had no children, and according to the genealogy report I have before me, your grandmother and your mother are both deceased.  Your mother was an only child, yes?  It appears to me that you are the last of his living relatives.”

You pulled off the road and into an empty parking lot.  The information you were being given was a lot to handle.  You didn’t have that large of a family.  You were an only child and raised by your parents and both sets of grandparents.  Both of your grandfathers had died before you turned 10.  Both grandmothers died within 5 years of each other and your father and mother died of illnesses, cancer and pneumonia respectively, in the last year.  Grief was a feeling that you knew better than anyone.  You kept to yourself mostly and you didn’t have any close friends or a significant other.

“Listen,” you began, “you are correct about all of your information, but how do I know this is not some kind of scam?”

The man on the other end of the phone cleared his throat and the sound of shuffling papers met your ears.  “I can imagine that this information is sudden and unusual.  What I will do is send a copy of his will and a copy of the genealogy papers to your address.  I encourage you to take this to your lawyer and have them look over the information.  The reason I am calling is because I need you to fly to Moldova, sign these papers, and accept the monetary inheritance that he has left you.”

Your jaw dropped as you looked down at your phone.  Fly to Moldova?  Is this true?  The only thing you knew about the country was that a foreign exchange student from high school was born and raised in Moldova.  That about sums up your knowledge of the country. This seemed incredibly asinine and ridiculous.  But the word that settled in your train of thought was “inheritance.” What inheritance?

“Mr...what was your name again?” you asked.

“Mr. Dathermi, but you can call me Ron,” the lawyer responded.

“Ron...umm, how much monetary inheritance are we talking about?”

More shuffling of papers was on the other side of the phone, Ron clicking his tongue as he looked through the information.  “He has left you 53,806,746 Moldovan Leu...which translates to $3,000,000 in American currency.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!?!” you exclaimed before clamping your lips shut.  You heard Ron chuckle.  “I’m sorry, pardon my language. It’s just...wow...this sounds insane…”

“I can imagine it does,” Ron replied, “which is why I want to mail this information to you and have your attorney take a look at it so you know this is a legitimate will and testament.  If you would like, I can mail the information straight to your attorney if you are still leery.”

“No, no, that’s okay,” you said, shaking your head.  Your mind was whirling.  None of this sounded remotely true.  You felt as if you were dreaming.  This felt like something that only happened in books and fairy tales...a girl who had nothing and nobody suddenly inheriting millions of dollars from an unknown distant relative.  What are the odds of something like this happening in real life?  You gave Ron Dathermi your home address.

“Thank you very much, Miss Y/N.  I will send this as soon as possible.  I’ll also include my business card so your attorney can contact me and we can iron out the details.  Thank you very much, Y/N...I’ll be in touch.”

You thanked him as well and ended the call.  All alone in your car in the empty parking lot, you let out an excited squeal and started hopping up and down.

*

You adjusted the messenger bag that was slung across your shoulder as you heard the overhead speaker call for the boarding of your flight.  Taking a deep breath, you got in line, extended your ticket to the airport employee, and walked down the tarmac and into the plane.

Butterflies were fluttering in your stomach.  Your hands gripped your bag tightly as the flight attendant looked at your boarding pass and pointed down the aisle to where you were to be seated.  You had never flown before and your nerves were on alert.  Scenes from Final Destination flashed in your head as you walked down the aisle towards your seat.  Taking a deep breath and willing your body to relax, you located your seat next to the window and sat down, plopping your bag onto your lap.  

The small window was close to the wing of the plane and looking beyond that was a long expanse of grass that met a vast forest.  You were thankful that you had the window seat and your headphones so you could tune everything out and relax in your own little world.

Once the papers from Mr. Dathermi arrived a week prior, you immediately called the attorney that helped you with the probate and will from your parents’ deaths several months back.  He was more than happy to help, knowing that you were all alone in the world after your parents had passed.  Two days later, he called to inform you that all of the paperwork was, in fact, legitimate and that Mr. Serghei Popa was the brother of your grandmother.  He showed you the adoption papers, confirming that your great uncle had been put up for adoption and the family that took him in had relocated to Moldova when he was two years old.  He had remained in the country until his death.  Your attorney contacted Mr. Dathermi, who in turn secured a round trip plane ticket in order for you to come to Moldova to finalize the paperwork and collect the inheritance.

At the thought of the money you were about to acquire, another surge of excitement flowed through you.  Your parents hadn’t left you much after their death and you worked at a dead-end job that had no room for advancement and no possibility for raises.  All of these recent events sounded like something out of a fairy tale.

“This is your captain speaking,” the voice sounded from the speaker above your head, “we will be departing in the next ten minutes.  Please make sure your seatbelts are secured, your tray tables are up, and all electronics are off until we are at the appropriate cruising altitude.  I will inform everyone as soon as the coast is clear.  Thank you for flying with us and enjoy the ride.”

You fastened your seatbelt and laid your head back, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Don’t be nervous…” a voice sounded next to you.  You opened your eyes and looked over to see an older gentleman with wide rimmed glasses and a nice smile.

“Is it that obvious?” you asked, returning his smile.

“It’s pretty obvious,” he chuckled, “my name is Bruce Williams.  I’m the air marshal on board this flight.” You told him your name and shook his hand. “Just relax,” he assured, “we’ll be flying for the next 10 hours.  There are lots of movies and tv shows to watch on the screen in front of you, or you can listen to your music and read a book if you brought one.”

You patted your messenger bag.  “Yeah, I have a few books to choose from.  Thanks,” you smiled.

Within minutes, the plane had backed away from the tarmac, turned towards the long expanse of runway, and increased speed before leaving the ground and soaring up into the clouds.

*

The steady hum of the plane’s engines provided a relaxed soundtrack as you slept.  It was close to early morning, according to the clock on the tv screen, but your watch was still on your regular time zone.  It read early afternoon and that threw you through a loop.  You had heard that jet lag could be a bitch and you wondered how bad yours would be once you landed.  Bruce had passed you a pillow and blanket once you were ready to sleep and he assured you that your bag and belongings would be safe while you slept.

You were so thankful to be seated next to him.  Not only was he the air marshal, but he was a really cool person as well.  You two talked about movies and actually watched a couple of them on the tv screen in front of you.  Bruce was kind and nice to talk to.  The crinkle of crow’s feet around his eyes, his laugh, and his hair color mixed with hints of gray reminded you of your father...maybe that’s why you liked him so much.

You shifted in your seat and let out a soft yawn.  Stretching your arms above your head and arching your back, you wondered how much longer it would be until you touched down in Moldova.

“You weren’t asleep that long,” Bruce murmured.  You looked over to see a book in his hand and his glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom and then go back to sleep,” you replied, standing from your seat.  Bruce stood up and allowed you out into the aisle.  You made your way to the bathroom towards the back of the plane.  The cabin was dark with little lights dotting either side of the aisle on the floor. Soft lights were shining here and there from people reading, watching the tv screen, or messing with their phones while most of the passengers were asleep.

Once in the bathroom, you did your business, flushed the toilet, and began washing your hands.  The mirror in front of you showed a tired and weary version of yourself.  Some of your eye makeup was smudged.  You told yourself once  you returned back to your seat, you’d retrieve the makeup remover wipes in your bag and do away with the dirt and oil.

Just then the plane hit an air pocket and dropped several feet, throwing  you forward towards the sink and mirror.  You let out a shriek as the plane quieted and went still.  “God dammit,” you muttered, putting your hand over your heart, “that scared the shit out of me!”

Once out of the bathroom, you slammed the door shut and walked back to your seat.  You tapped Bruce on the shoulder and he moved aside.

You lifted the window shade and looked outside.  Natural light from the start of the day began to show.  The plane was amongst the clouds so it was fairly cloudy and hard to see.

“How much farther do we have?” you asked Bruce.  He shifted the book to his left hand and looked down at his wristwatch.  “We should be there in three hours.  I think we are flying over Romania right now…”

You nodded your head and thanked him, turning back to the window.  The clouds gave way momentarily and provided the opportunity to see the ground below.  Tall, snowy mountains came into view.  You smiled and marveled at their beauty, wondering what mountain range this was.  You cursed yourself for forgetting the basics from your World Geography class in high school.  Hell, all you knew about Romania was that it was the setting for Dracula and the real life territory that was once owned by Elizabeth Bathory, who allegedly killed upwards of 650 maidens and bathed in their blood.  You shook your head and smiled to yourself.  You really did enjoy some morbid and fucked up stories.

Your train of thought stopped short when a large and spacious castle came into view.  Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.  It looked like something out of a Disney movie or from ancient castles that still sat throughout Europe.  The place looked like it stood on several acres of land and who knows how many square feet.  What a gorgeous and breathtaking place it was.  You wondered just what was inside a monstrosity like that and who was lucky enough to inhabit such a place.  Maybe there were castles in Moldova that you could explore and visit while you’re conducting your business.

The castle fell out of view and not far from it stood what looked like a village.  You were too high up to see any people or any traces of lights or torches.  You took everything in with total awe and appreciation.  It looked like a small and sleepy storybook town.

A sudden movement close to the village caught your attention.  You squinted your eyes and tried to look closer, pressing your forehead to the window.  What the fuck is that, you wondered.  It looked like a black tree, naked of leaves or any type of growth...and it was moving.  It looked to be swaying in the breeze, but the size of it looked way too sturdy for any kind of gust to move it with such fluidity.  As you focused on the tree, it appeared to be growing...getting closer to the plane.  Was the plane descending?  Were you getting closer to Moldova?

One of the branches of the tree slowly drifted to the ground before extending long and rigid, slinging itself up into the air like a bullwhip, hitting the wing of the plane.  The plane suddenly tilted as the slithering limb wrapped around the wing and broke it off.  You let out a loud scream as the plane turned on its side, Bruce falling against you, squishing you to the wall.  “WHAT THE FUCK??” Bruce screamed as yelps, shrieks, and screams echoed in the cabin of the plane.  Dozens of people were knocked from their seats, flight attendants falling into the aisle and rolling towards the cockpit.  The plane shook and quaked as it dropped several feet in a matter of seconds.

“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!” you screamed, grabbing hold of Bruce’s arm.  The air masks dropped from overhead and Bruce grabbed yours, making quick work of putting it over your face.  “HOLD ON TO IT! HOLD IT OVER YOUR MOUTH, Y/N!!” he commanded, reaching for his own mask.

“THE WING OF THE PLANE HAS BEEN DAMAGED!” the pilot yelled from over the speakers, “WE ARE LOSING ALTITUDE! BRACE FOR IMPACT!”  People screamed and panicked, holding on to whatever it was they could.  Panic surged through your body as your fingers dug into Bruce’s arm.  The plane shook as it fell.  Your stomach dropped and it felt as if you were seconds from impact.  You looked out the window one last time before the ground came into view and everything went black.

*

He leaned over the body on the metal table in the lab of his factory.  He fastened the bolts with a wrench and tested the strength of the metal against the rotting flesh.  A soft horn sounded in the distance along with the various turns of chains and clangs of steel against steel.  He wiped the sweat off his brow and walked to his desk, looking over the blueprints and sketches he had devised the previous day.

Despite the different array of sounds, nothing could mask the loud crash that sounded off in the distance.  He lifted his head, silently trying to figure out what the fuck made that noise.  Leaving the body laying on the table, he exited his lab and made his way down the stairs and to the factory doors.  

With a grunt, he slid the doors aside and looked off into the distance.  Black smoke billowed from an area that looked to be close to the village.  Other than the crows squawking and flapping their wings in retreat, everything was dead quiet.  He looked off to the right just in time to see the long, spindly limbs of mold retreating back towards the earth.  Karl Heisenberg’s face tightened in a disgusted grimace.

“Mother Miranda...what have you done?”

[juniorgman187]

Spoiled Rotten (Reid Fic)

Summary: After Spencer went radio silent on Reader while he was in prison, their pride and stubbornness threatens to tear them apart forever. Reader’s forced to mourn the death of who they were and experience the inner turmoil of navigating who they are.

A/N: Y’all are gonna kill me for the ending, but it’s one hell of a way to go.  Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Angst Content Warning: Imprisonment, humiliation, abandonment, anger, frustration, angst, yelling, fighting Word Count: 5.3k Playlist: Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo

Time jumps are indicated by “. . .” or “_ _ _”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

A rather unfortunate predicament we’ve found ourselves in tonight. I can’t say I’ve ever been quite this uncomfortable in my life, yet I’m careful not to speak too soon. Because I know the second Spencer opens his mouth to break the silence we’re currently sitting in, I’ll stand corrected. 

“You’re breathing really hard,” He tells me out of nowhere. 

See, I stand corrected. 

Now that I’ve become hyper aware of my own inhale and exhale, my respiration is just that much more restricted. I’m practically holding my breath at this moment - both from the anticipation of catching this unsub in the act and giving Spencer one less thing to scrutinize about me. 

“I didn’t say you had to stop breathing,” He tacks on as if it would put me any more at ease. Not that if he had explicitly said such a thing, I would’ve. 

Unlike other people, I wasn’t exactly jumping at the chance to throw myself at his feet so he’d like me. But to use that as grounds for his disdain would be foolish. Our rancor went deeper than the basic lack of synergy between us. 

And in the spirit of getting to the bottom of that abyssal pit, I finally asked the question with words that always seemed to hang above but never would form. 

“Why was I the only one denied visitation while you were in prison?” 

It may surprise you to know that it wasn’t always like this between us; we were actually close once, although it is hard to imagine that version of us ever really existing. However, if I think about it hard enough, I can remember with perfect clarity who we used to be. 

. . .

“Jeez, you really don’t like these things do you?” I nudged him playfully before feeling instantly guilty once I witnessed the result of my shove that must’ve been a little too much for all 120 (at most) pounds of him. I’d neglected to remember the strength I held over the lanky Doctor as well as neglected to notice where the trajectory of my push would land him - in the direct line of a circus clown walking the opposite direction as us. This, of course, brought him face to face with the character. Unfortunately, I managed to catch a glimpse of the lens of Spencer’s glasses grazing the white face paint of the caricature. 

After a shudder of mortification and a very brave shriek, Spencer ran to my other side to be as far away from the clown as possible and apparently, as close to me as possible. From a distance, you’d think we were conjoined simply by the way he was glued to me - shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. 

While removing his glasses to clean them off with the hem of his blazer, he answered, “Carnivals? I mean, what’s not to like? What with the loud noises, the heart-attack-inducing food that’s more grease than actual food, or the sheer amount of bacteria harboring on each and every handle, hoop, ball, or button of these ridiculous game booths.” 

“Wow, you really don’t like carnivals.” I should’ve figured. 

“Nope. Never have and probably never will.” 

As someone who looked forward to the fair every summer of her childhood, any aversion to carnivals broke my heart. I had a fondness for them borne in adolescence that I couldn’t quite justify now in my adulthood. 

“But they’re fun!” was the best argument I could muster. The whine in my voice being provoked by the possibility that the higher the shrill of my pitch, the easier he’d be to sway. Turns out, Dr. Reid was not nearly as susceptible to my auditory persuasion as I might’ve thought he was. Just a stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel. 

“I’m sorry. I know you brought me here because you love these things, but I just can’t get past the ...” He surveyed the fair, ostensibly against his will, in search of the perfect word to describe our surroundings. “Filth.”

I would’ve argued in the defense of the carnival, mentioning how it’s endearing that the only bathrooms for miles were porta potties, and that the screaming, crying, sticky children galore just added to the attraction, and that there was a hidden charm to the way the roller coasters creaked beyond their means with every ride. 

But to an extent, I agreed. It was rather filthy, and I wasn’t much of a germaphobe myself so to someone like him, this would be hell on earth. 

“Well, you get what you put into it. If you’re willing to overlook some minor imperfections, I really think you’d enjoy this place.” 

Spencer by now had his hands in his pockets and his walking pace had slowed to a complete halt. There was a moment of skepticism, followed by a partially open smile to make way for the laughter that escaped from the disbelief that he felt for letting me break his resolve so easily. 

“Alright then. What do you want to do first, Brat?” 

The nickname I’d earned could be seen as meanspirited, but truly, it was affectionately diminutive. Like all good nicknames are. And like the proclaimed Brat I was, I’d taken him to all my favorite parts of the fair. 

First came the bumper cars to ease him into the experience - as ironic as that sounds. He was reluctant to submerge his gangly body into a mini vehicle, much less one that’d been inhabited by God knows how many people before us, but he pushed his reservations aside when he realized he’d get to slam into my car (safely, of course). 

Secondly, we went on the Carousel, but this was only in preparation for the real ride that I wanted to take him on next - the Swinging Chairs. He’d gotten a little nauseous, from both the repetitive circling and the galvanized chains he had to hold that were definitely held by several others. 

He had no interest in going on the Gravitron - super lame, I know - so we opted for the Ferris Wheel instead. I didn’t mind making this compromise so much after recognizing all that he’d done for my benefit that night. And for his generosity and selflessness, I thought it only fitting to end the night going somewhere so tame he couldn’t possibly have any opposition to it.

The photo booth.

The booth in particular we’d gone to was smaller than an airplane bathroom, if you can imagine that. The bench seat was barely wide enough to fit Spencer, let alone seat the both of us. While he didn’t explicitly make the offer to let me sit on his lap, it was kind of a give in that I’d have some part of my body intertwined around him like stubborn ivy. 

. . .

I still laugh thinking about the tangled mess of limbs we were below what the camera couldn’t capture. It was arguably the furthest extent of contortionist work I wanted to do in my lifetime, and henceforth exceedingly uncomfortable, and yet, I’d never felt more at home than when I was in his arms. 

That night he would tear off the top three photos to keep for himself while I kept the bottom three photos. 

To this day, I have never seen the pictures that he kept, and I’m left to wonder if he had them at all.

Because I still have mine. And they were virtually the only thing keeping me sane throughout his trial and subsequent imprisonment. 

Six Months Ago ...

My eyes were locked on the loose thread of my cardigan that I was rolling between my fingers anxiously. 

“Would you stop that?” Penelope swatted my hand away from my sweater. “You’re making me nervous just looking at you.” She grumbled. 

“Sorry,” I apologized bleakly.

A few seconds later she groaned again, making me think I was still doing something bothersome, but it turned out to be just the opposite. “Ugh, I know that sounded mean, and I hate when I sound mean, but I can feel my forehead creasing from the stress, and watching you fidget is going to give me an ulcer.”

“I wish I could help it. I’m just really worried about him.”

“Well I am, too, but that’s not gonna do us any good right now. All we can do is hope for the best.”

Sometimes Penelope’s overly optimistic view on life was futile and unwelcome, and truthfully, this was one of those times. 

“Penny?” 

As she turned her head, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the lenses of her dark green glasses. I could see my own mournful expression as I asked, “What if he’s found guilty?” 

She started to say something but stopped herself. “Right now, all we need to focus on is his bail. We can worry about a verdict later.” She put her hand on top of mine and shook it briefly to remind me that we were in this together. 

Moments later recess was over and the team came trudging back into the courtroom. 

The sound of the judge clearing her throat and our footsteps on the floor made this feel all too normal. 

How could Spencer’s life be hanging in the balance in such a place as non-intimate as this? 

It frustrated me how casual things felt today and how everyone was acting normally. Prentiss had yet to bat an eye, Rossi’s stoic expression never changed, and Penelope was telling me not to worry. Everyone was acting so aloof. 

My eyes darted to Spencer, who was looking back at us woefully. I couldn’t bear to see him like that any longer, so I kept my head down and stared at my feet after I took my seat. 

Even when I closed my eyes, I was haunted by the vision of him in a suit, just like one he’d wear to work. But instead, he was wearing it for this - this vastly different situation. 

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at him the same in one anymore. I’ll probably just remember this particular look on his face, in this god awful courtroom, during this horribly nauseating circumstance. 

If one thing was for certain, it was that this would all come back to me if I ever laid eyes on him in a suit, and that thought fucking terrified me. 

Because that one thought spiraled into the next: Everything was bound to change after this. Every little thing would change in every little way. 

Spencer’s lawyer, the judge, and the prosecutor were going back and forth for a while, but I tuned it all out because I knew if I had tuned in, I wouldn’t have been able to hold back my arguments. Eventually, though, I heard something I could no longer ignore. 

“If past behavior is the best indicator of future conduct, and I do believe it is, then your client presents a flight risk.”

I stood up immediately, getting a head rush from the speed. I knew what was to follow, so I needed to be on my feet the second I heard it. Maybe so I could run and escape before I had to.

“Bail is denied. The defendant will remain in federal custody pending trial.” 

“Spencer!” I shouted, losing all the composure I’d been trying to maintain. I reached for him as if he was at any capacity to reach back and hold me. God, I needed him to hold me. Hold me like how he did at the carnival. 

Hold me.

Luke held me back as I fought to be near him.

“Let me go!” I screamed, trying to break free of his tight grip. Spencer could only stand and stare, mirroring my own wistful glance. He mouthed something to me that I couldn’t quite make out, but if I knew him at all, he probably said something about not wanting me to worry about him. 

“(Y/n), (y/n) it’s gonna be alright.” JJ reasoned, pulling me into a hug. 

“How long before this case goes to trial?” I heard Prentiss whisper to Spencer’s lawyer. 

“It’s a complicated case. I’d say three months maybe?” 

Immediately, I worked myself out of JJ’s arms and pushed my way through the team, running up to the barrier between us.

“Spence!” I cried out in anguish. 

To the sound of my voice, he glanced over his shoulder sadly. He wasn’t even shocked I’d been able to get so close to him - he seemed to expect it, and for that, he was sad. Because he knew if I was going to be as stubborn as to fight to get to him at this hearing, then I was going to be stubborn enough to reach him in prison, too. And should he find himself behind bars, he knew that I’d get to him one way or another. 

That is if he’d let me. 

“Be strong,” He weakly smiled. ‘For me’ his sad eyes begged in addition. He held my gaze for as long as he possibly could before disappearing into another room. 

As I watched him walk away, I could feel my heart shattering and crumbling into the pit of my stomach. Perhaps that was a premonition, a true gut feeling, telling me something I at the time couldn’t have known and wouldn’t have accepted. 

That was the last time I would see Spencer. 

People always say when something unbelievable happens, it doesn’t feel real, but this? Nothing felt more real and more intense than this. 

There was no other way for me to see this situation but as the first defeat in an endless line of them.

If Spencer was denied bail, what else could happen to him? Could he be found guilty too? Because prior to this, the denial of his bail seemed impossible. He posed no flight risk, but according to the judge, he did. So if what I once thought to be impossible happened, then it could and would happen again.

I knew Spencer was going to be found guilty.

What I didn’t know, though, was how I was going to live with myself from then on.

I didn’t go that day. 

I knew myself too well. So did the others, which is why they didn’t object to my decision not to come to Spencer’s trial. They knew I was better off staying home. Especially, if there was the chance that I might react hysterically again.

I didn’t stay home, though. That part the team never found out about. 

I went to visit Diana instead. A much wiser choice, in my opinion. 

“You know, we’ve been talking so much about Spencer today, but we haven’t talked about you yet,” said Diana. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” I feigned a polite smile. 

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” She tilted her chin downward and gave me that sly grin of hers. 

“No, no, of course not. I know better than to underestimate the Diana Reid.” I quipped, making her smile widen. “I just figured you’d wanna spend your time talking about someone much more interesting.” 

“Oh please, Spencer and I talk about you all the time.”

I perked up from the checker piece I was fiddling with. “You do?”

“Mhm,” She nodded over and over again. “I always knew there was something between you two because you could always talk about each other to me, but for some reason, you could never actually talk to each other.”

For the first time in months, I genuinely laughed and I couldn’t help it. “He makes me nervous! I always feel like he might correct something I say, or tell me that there’s food in my teeth.” 

“You know, now that you mention it, I do remember him saying something about seeing a really big piece of lettuce in your teeth one time.” 

“Diana!” I squealed, pushing the checkerboard at her, pretending to take offense. 

“I really don’t know what you’re so nervous about! I think it would be good if you just talked to him.” 

“It’s, um, it’s not that simple. Not right now, at least.” 

My energy quickly nose-dived and I tried to do my best to hide it from Diana, but it permeated through the rest of the visit. I couldn’t fully enjoy myself after it. 

The team and I all agreed not to let Diana know, especially not with the uncertainty of the case. There was no point riling her up if there was nothing to be worried about. And I could only imagine how I reacted - Diana would be reacting 10 times more hysterically. 

But as much as I hated to say it, I almost would’ve rather been in her position. 

I would give anything to un-know Spencer’s circumstance.

Present Time ...

In this car, there was nowhere for him to run or hide, not like before.

Anytime I so much as entered his gravity by being in the same room, he’d flee the space in the next breath. Granted, he couldn’t really avoid me entirely. We did have to be on the same flight for an extended period of time, but he made that work by letting me choose my spot first, then choosing a spot directly on the opposite side of the jet. 

What a gentleman, huh?

“Kudos to you, by the way. For managing to avoid me for this long. I imagine it’s been as not-easy as it has been incredibly-cowardly.” My words stung as they flowed from my lips as badly as I imagine they seared his already cracked skin. I couldn’t believe that now that I finally had the opportunity to talk to him, I was using it to be petty and passively aggressive. But then again, I could. 

Because after what he put me through, he deserved to feel the full severity of my indignation.

My only wish was that he knew exactly how I had felt when I found out. 

. . .

Icarus. 

He died tragically while using artificial wings, invented by his father, to escape from the Labyrinth. When Icarus flew too close to the sun, it melted the wax that held the wings together, and he fell into the sea.

‘Don’t fly too close to the sun.’ That’s the moral of the story. That’s what Reid was trying to tell me. But I didn’t listen. 

I flew too close. 

I had approached the window with more zeal than this predicament warranted. 

“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n). I’m here to see Spencer Reid, R-E-I-D,” I eagerly spelt his last name with ease as though it were my own last name. 

She’d flipped back and forth between pages, running her index finger up and down the sheet for far too long that it made me worry. Turns out, I had every right to be worried. 

“I don’t see you on the list, ma’am.” 

I was so mindnumbingly dumb that I couldn’t even see how dumb I was being. “Oh no no no, I’m with the FBI. I called earlier and left a message, remember?” 

“Yeah, I remember you,” She smiled politely, giving me the tiniest fragment of hope. “But you’re not on his list.” Only for it to be shattered in an instant. 

I had yet to process or accept this information. “So what does that mean?”

“It means he doesn't wanna see you right now. And frankly, neither do I. Next!” 

“Wait, could you just please check with him? My name is (y/n) -” 

“Ma’am, you are holding up a whole line of people that wanna see their loved ones too, so I suggest you see yourself out before I call security to help see you out.” 

I knew by her tone of the word ‘help’ that meant a prison guard would most likely forcibly remove me from the premises, and the last thing I needed was to feel even more humiliated. 

I got plenty of that when I had to come back to the BAU. 

“You’re not on the list?” Luke seemed genuinely shocked. More so than I was. Above all, I just felt really stupid. 

“I’m sure it was just a mistake.” Stephen reasoned. He was so good at being level-headed. Which normally, I would’ve loved. But right now, it only fueled the fire burning in my chest.

“That’s what I thought at first, too. But later on, she asked him herself, and he said - and I quote, ‘I don’t want to see her. Not now. Not ever.’”

. . .

Those were the words that seared my skin, and he hadn’t even spoken them directly to me to do it. 

The words that did just enough to heal me back to health were, of course, Penelope’s.

“Since you haven’t seen him yet, the rest of us will just wait until you have. It’s only fair that you have your first turn before the rest of us go back for a second time.” 

Back then, it was easy to hold out hope, but the more and more time passed, the more he kept denying my visits. Therefore, the more my hope began to fade. 

It had been weeks since anyone else had seen him before I finally surrendered. Although I had newly-brewing sourness towards Reid, it didn’t feel fair to deny him everyone else’s presence until mine was permitted. 

Luke was the one who volunteered to visit first. And to my dismay, Spencer didn’t fight against it. 

The proof was finally there. Now I could say with absolute certainty: Spencer just didn’t want to see me. 

It was both ironic and utterly frustrating to think about how I’d never gone more than two weeks without seeing him. Even when the BAU got time off after big cases, we’d always spend that time together. The longest we’d spent apart was 12 days. And right when he came back to D.C, we were attached at the hip for the next week, trying to compensate for all that time we were apart. 

Now, look at us. I haven’t said one word to him in half a year. 

If tragedy and comedy could coexist, this would be it. 

“How is he?” I asked Luke as soon as he got back. 

“He’s holding on,” Luke affirmed with confidence. What he said next lacked any of that. “He told me to tell you not to worry about him.” 

Something in me knew it was a lie. “Did he actually say that?”

His lack of an answer was one itself. 

“Did he say anything at all about me?”

“I tried telling him how much you wanted to see him, but he just brushed it off. I’m sorry, (y/n).” 

This became my routine for the months to follow. Every time someone would come back from the prison, I’d ask them if they talked about me, but the answer was always no. After a while, it had gotten to the point where I purposefully started leaving myself out of the loop. At least in that case, it was by my own volition that I was being excluded, not by a predicament being forced on me. 

Not by Spencer. 

“We’re not doing this right now,” Spencer declaration brought me back to the present, where I found him removing himself from both the conversation and the vehicle. When I heard the latch click to open, my hand reflexively flew to my auto-lock to prevent him from leaving. Naturally, he still managed to escape using his door’s button.

If I couldn’t stop him, then I could follow him. 

“Then when will we do this? Huh, Spencer? When? Because anytime I try to talk to you, you run away.” The mere fact that I was speed-walking after him was proof. While he casually strolled down the sidewalk paying me no mind, I tried to be clever and walk down the street so we’d be somewhat side to side. I was tired of staring at his back every time he walked away. I needed to see his face.

For his every stride, I had to take at least three steps. He was gliding through the world so effortlessly as I was trekking my uphill battle. It was quite fitting, though. Further exemplification that, between us, I was fighting harder to preserve the people we used to be, the relationship we used to have. Meanwhile, he couldn’t care less. A stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel. Just like he always was. 

As I began to speak, I had to also be conscious of the parked cars along the curb, being careful to weave in and out. 

“For months, you have blatantly ignored me. The entire time you were in prison, you denied my visits. And it’s not like it was a one time thing. I tried to visit you over 100 times while you were in jail! 100 times I got rejected. 100 times I got turned away. 100 times my heart shattered.” 

By now, I was speaking so loudly that I could see household lights within neighboring homes turning on. I hadn’t even realized how far we’d walked down the street and away from our car, but it was the last thing on my mind. 

“Then after you were released, it’s like I never even existed. I had to find out that you were out of there a week later than everyone else because they all assumed you came to me yourself to tell me the good news,” I laughed wryly at my own stupidity. “Do you know how hard it was for me?” 

“Do you know how hard it was for me?” 

It took me a second to register that he was actually engaging with me in this conversation now. But when I looked at his expression, I could see that something within him had snapped. A little piece of me was glad, though. Now I knew for sure that there was some effect I had on him. 

“Hard for you?”

“I know you came to visit me 100 times! Want to know how I know? Because I was there, too! I was there every time a guard came to ask if I wanted to see you. I was there every time I turned you away. And while you got to walk out of those doors every time I did, I was stuck in there, rotting in that cell, thinking about how badly I wanted to see you. How badly I wanted to touch ...” His voice faltered. “To touch you. But I had to protect you!” 

“You do realize in protecting me, you were hurting me in the process.” 

“Because you just don’t know when to leave well enough alone!” His hands tugged at the root of his unruly hair like evidence of the frustration that my stubbornness caused. “You’re such a pain in the ass because you can never cooperate! It’s gotta be your way or no one else’s! ‘Spencer, it has to be this way because I said so. Spencer, you have to let me see you because I said so. Spencer, you have to talk to me because I said so. Spencer, you have to ride this stupid roller coaster because I said so,’” His imitation of my nagging voice would’ve made me laugh before. Now, it was bringing me onto the verge of tears. “Since clearly no one’s told you this before - not everything is about you! You just want it to be because you’re a whiny, little brat! You’re so spoiled rotten that you can’t even see how far down it goes. If you did, you’d know that you’re rotten to the core and that nothing will ever satisfy you. Especially me.”

His words had done more than sear me. They pierced me. They ripped me. They destroyed me. When he called me Brat, I thought it was endearing. Now, looking back, I realize - no, that’s just how little he thought of me. 

As I came to the conclusion, I stopped dead in my tracks on the pavement. 

I was done chasing Spencer.

His face had fallen from its anger, indicating he was apologetic, but I was beyond accepting his sorry excuses anymore. I couldn’t stand to look at him so I looked behind me to find our car at least a football field away. I guess in many ways, I’d gone the whole nine yards. 

“This is what you wanted right?” I turned back to him momentarily. My voice scared me how calm it was because, inside, I was boiling with rage. “Well, here you go, Spence. Have all the fucking space you want.” 

It was usually me watching his back while he walked away, and now, he was watching mine. 

“(Y/n), wait!” 

And for the briefest second, it actually felt good to be the first one to leave. 

I was free. 

_ _ _

To my dismay and relief, when I walked into work the next morning, he wasn’t there. I would’ve looked for him with more than a cursory glance except I was stuck on looking at something strange in the bullpen that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But as I walked further in, a blaring siren went off in my head. 

Spencer’s desk is completely empty. 

I instantly sorted through my purse for my phone to reach Prentiss when I noticed something more. 

I had been desperate to cling onto any notion that he still loved me, and there it was, just sitting on his desk. Proof that the man I loved was still in there somewhere.

The top three pictures from the carnival photo booth.

I laughed, as I always did, thinking about how much we had to exert ourselves to be positioned in a semi-adequate way. In the next wave, I felt profoundly empty. He had kept the pictures all these years, and now that I finally get to see them, he’s left me.

As I brought my hand to my face to clear the tears pooling at my lower lashes, I saw that my finger had an ink smear on the pad of it. There was nowhere else I could’ve obtained it except for if there was writing on the back of the photos. 

What I read when I turned it over was as follows. 

I want to be this guy for you again, (y/n). I just don’t know how. 

I just don’t know if I can.

No matter how much I’ve changed, one thing’s still the same.

I love you. 

I should’ve focused on the message, but all that I could focus on was that if I managed to smear the ink, that meant it was fresh, written just now. 

He was still here. 

I pocketed the photos and abandoned my purse, only carrying with me the phone that I forgot to use to dial Prentiss. After a moment’s indecision, I figured that taking the stairs would be faster than the elevator, and I bounded down the steps without hesitation. 

“Spencer!” I yelled into the parking structure when I reached the ground floor. The sound of me bursting through the door caught the attention of Anderson, who was getting out of his car. 

“I just saw him leave.” Anderson threw his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the exit. I knew, even in my state of mind, there was no feasible reality where I could reach him on foot. I had to call him. 

I pleaded to myself for him to pick up with every ring of my phone. 

“(Y/n),” He said like a statement instead of a question. Again, he’d anticipated I’d do this. He probably picked it up not even having to look at the caller ID but knowing it was me and no one else. 

“I don’t need you to be the guy you were before, Spencer. I just need you to bend a little bit. I know we’re both stubborn people, but if we can just find a halfway point-”

“(Y/n), (y/n),” He was settling me and the sentences that were coming out of my mouth at 100 mph. 

“I’ll bend if you bend.” I promised. 

The static of the call filled my ears until his voice finally did.

“For everyone else, I bend ... for you, I break.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

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[probably-haven]

Hello!! After seeing what you wrote about xiaoven fics I went to see what things you usually write and omg, your archon Venti headcanons????? I am absolutely in love. So if it isn't annoying, could you talk about xiaoven or Venti or Xiao or whatever ship or character you like? I don't care what you are going to say, I just want to know more about your thoughts ^^

I- is this... bestie, this is essentially a free ramble pass- kerujsgheskdfug. Trust me when I say that in no way is this, and in no way will it ever be annoying in the slightest- i literally- lets just say rambling off thoughts is kind of my specialty, especially when provided a topic to branch off of because otherwise I'm just- really indecisive about it so- iujskdh yeah- 100% definitely down to talk about Venti, Xiao, and/or Xiaoven XD. Also, yes- it may have been awhile since i last posted one(cuz again, indecisive about which direction to take part 5), but the Archon War Era Venti headcanons are still without a doubt my favorite posts I've made. It's just such an interesting topic with such endless potential that so few people actually think about or consider or even realize is there, so i always just get really psyched whenever i see someone interact with them lol.

.... this ended up being a bit of a mess: warning in advance

Anyway! onto the actual content!

- You see the thing about Xiaoven is that there's a lot of different ways that it could end up working out, and just personally my favorite way of portraying Xiaoven in my mind is as an unlabeled relationship because if anyone in genshin would give off that vibe its these two. And a number of other reasons.

- Firstly, I heavily headcanon Venti as being an aroace polyplatonic or perhaps heavily demiromantic. However, regardless of this I just don't think that Venti is really the kind of person to worry about how he should label his feelings, thinking it's silly to try to put them in one box or the other, especially with feelings and emotions being as fluid as they are in general. Plus it fits his whole God of Freedom vibe. I just- dont think he's the biggest fan of labels or social categorization in general.

- And secondly on the hand of Xiao... his defense mechanisms are very much ingrained in his personality. It's probably hard enough for him to not go into fight or flight(the answer is fight) at the slightest affection at first, at the slightest feeling of vulnerability. Even further down the line, with his fierce dedication to Liyue, I cant help but get the vibe that the moment he recognized that he was falling for Venti he would begin avoiding him, not only to avoid distraction from his duty, but to avoid corrupting him or losing him in general like he has with like basically every other person he gets close with(even believing that the cycle had repeated once more when he first heard of Morax's death)... now imagine Venti tryna slap a label on their relationship and tell me Xiao would have a positive reaction.

- The thing with Xiaoven.... honestly, i feel like theres more ways that it can go wrong than it can go right, but if they do manage to make their relationship work out, it's just simply beautiful in all terms of the word.

- Lets talk about killing. - During the Archon War, both were forced to kill a large number of people and gods alike- Venti out of a need to remain alive to protect Mondstadt, it's freedom, and the nameless bard's legacy by extent- and Xiao out of servitude to the god that was once his master

..... actually- break here- ive talked a lot about Venti on this blog but I havent actually spoken about Xiao all that much- so i should probably do that a bit first... do note though that my characterization of Xiao is pretty flexible actually- this is just- the possible characterization of him that i tend to favor as being the most- uh- "realistically complex"

-

Theres a line I saw this one time in a certain story: "He is a trained weapon. That's what he is, was, and always will be. You cannot change that so stop trying." And i just- think its a really interesting concept- that applies pretty well to Xiao now that i actually think about it. - the concept behind it is this: After spending more than a vast majority of his life killing or otherwise in battle, it's become a part of who he is, a normalcy that after centuries and centuries would be near impossible to get rid of or reverse, and even if it was possible, with his karmic debt constantly eating away at him its unlikely he has enough time left for that to happen. - it sounds like a cruel thing to say about him- but in context it's actually pretty layered and i think about it a lot. It's not as much a "he's a killer lol, that his whole personality" its more of a "The centuries of trauma he experienced have conditioned him into a constantly alert and battle ready mindset while also shaping his dehumanizing inferior-in-worth-but-superior-in-capability view of himself that would have likely been necessary to get through those time, and at this point he's been under that conditioning for long enough that it's essentially ingrained itself in his personality."

- the main idea is- it's a part of who he is, that needs to be accepted as who he is because its not something that he can just up and change. It's not all he is of course but his constant battle mode, as though always waiting to be ambushed or to be granted a new target to eradicate.

a couple character story quotes:

-"His past of service under the evil god had rid Xiao of his innocence and gentleness. All that remained within him was the means to kill and the weight of his sins. The only way he could be of service to mortals was in combat." -"Xiao does not feel any hatred. Having lived for over two thousand years, no single karmic debt constitutes anything more than a fleeting memory. No grudge can last a thousand years; nor is any debt so great that it cannot be paid off in this time. Xiao has spent many long years alone. But his battles have never been in vain." -"where did Xiao have to return to? He was merely leaving the battlefield." -"since Xiao wages a constant war against dark forces powerful enough to devour Liyue in its entirety, any bystanders who witness him in the heat of battle are likely to end up as collateral damage." -"The war he fights can never be won, and will never come to an end." -"Because ultimately, the one with whom Xiao wrestles is himself."

i feel like at some point this very nearly did consume his whole personality, almost turning him into nothing more than a being of slaughter under Morax's control, devoid of any "humanity" at all, consumed and corrupted by his karmic debt like his fellow yakshas before him. - until he experienced a moment of clarity- a song in the wind, the peaceful melody of a dihua flute. - and pulled back from the border of something he wouldnt have been able to return from, there a was a shift in his mind- a concept grown unfamiliar enough with time that it took him a great time to identify what it was; a curiosity. Something that there was no place for on the battlefield, something that by all means should have been completely useless to Xiao, and yet he held onto that curiosity, slowly regaining over time, a sense of who he was and who he could choose to be with each song that the wind chose to carry towards him every once in a blue moon.

and eventually that curiousity turned to longing. Longing "for a day to come when he will wear the mask and dance — not to conquer demons, but to the tune of that flute amid a sea of flowers"

...... uh- heh- if you couldn’t tell already i have a tendency to make my characterizations/analyses of characters more serious that i probably should. 

to summarize: Xiao is constantly toeing the line between his ingrained nature and his humanity- almost as though still trying to decide how much of that humanity he deserves to have, how much he is allowed to have, and how much is safe to have.

^looking back after writing this, i think the best way to explain it is that this is the view that i keep in mind/the lense that i tend to most enjoy looking through and refering back to while examining and/or analyzing his character, actions, story, lines, and overall personality.

idk- i kinda got off track but i just think its a really interesting interpretation to think about because it has some really interesting implications ig- it’s not the full extent of how i view him of course, but i kinda got ahead of myself and its long enough as is so ill just elaborate as i go- Lol i actually have in progress playlists for both him and venti and just- vibes- i could ramble about the playlists alone for hours explaining everything... It’s probably a problem- uh- ill keep going now lol.

anyways! stepping off the angst path for a brief break! Brought to you by their lines in the snow: both waiting for it to get thick enough, Venti for the purpose of a snowball fight and Xiao for the purpose of a tasty and nutritious breakfast.

but its actually something of note that Xiao doesnt actually need to eat so anything he does eat is usually out of obligation or enjoyment- so like.... snow.... like i dont blame him, but of all things- an adeptus who refuses to eat basically anything but almond tofu looks at the freezing-cold-floor-water that yeeted itself from above and decided at some point- damn- that seems more edible than basically ever single actually edible thing ever.... im gonna eat it- like- im glad if eating snow makes him happy but- at the same time...

He probably convinces Venti to eat snow too though and Venti wouldnt even resist I mean he’s wind and has probably consumed worse things in his time so- 2 anemo cryptids with glowing tattoos sitting in Dragonspine monching snow in the dead of night is an amusing thought to me.

- kay, now back to more serious-toned thoughts

One of the things about the ship that i really like is the different contradicting parallels between them:

A lot of how i view Xiao’s character is someone formed largely by the things he cant control and who was forced to accept that accepted that and learned to thrive in it as much as he can.  Venti on the other hand is surrounded by things he cant control and is ever adapting to control as much as he can while embracing whatever he cant as being part of the unpredictability of the world, seeing beauty in it. 

both of them have lost people and do what they do to honor their memory: Xiao continues to do what the Yakshas once did And Venti chooses to do what his friend couldn’t

Xiao’s power coming from himself  and Venti’s from others And both seem to appear to use their power for their own gain while truly helping others behind the scenes

both have killed a lot of people during the archon war Xiao views it as another necessary event out of his control and Venti would likely view it as a tragedy he chose to enact himself

and this is where we meet out balance

Xiao- contrary to how i think a lot of people view him as thinking of himself as a monster- seems canonically to have accepted this as part of his duty, as long as those he killed are not mortals. I dont think he enjoys it no- but someone has to do it and he’s just accepted that its a part of his duty Venti on the other hand-

See the beauty of the ship- as someone with an angst-centric mind- is this- these are two of the most traumatized mfers in the game 

Xiao is by far the one who needs the most help and who can serve to benefit most from the ship- but he is nowhere near self aware enough to recognize that there’s anything wrong or unhealthy about his mindset in the slightest-

whereas you have the contrast with Venti who sorted through most of his trauma with the nameless bard alone during the archon war and while the result appears more healthy- is still really not- but he’s not self aware of that either because i mean- who’s going to tell him? nobody even knows. 

however- venti is aware enough to notice flaws in Xiao’s mindset and “Venti” enough to want to help them through it-

Xiao- while not aware enough to recognize the flaws in Venti’s mindset, can recognize where it contrasts with his own, and is blunt enough to point it out- and then it’s out there to be mulled over- 

they’re so similar and yet so different and a feel just conversing between the two of them, being in each others precense, just being exposed to two mindsets that are so very different could do both of them a whole lot of good.

GEEE THAT BIT OF RAMBLING HAD LITTLE TO NO DIRECTION AT ALL- LET ME-- LET ME MAKE THIS START MAKING SENSE- WITH... DYNAMICS OR SOMETHING

I don’t think Xiao needs to sleep really- and i dont think that sleeping would do anything except make him uneasy at first- he’d probably just get nightmares after all he’s been through- but with Venti he would soon learn that it doesn’t have to be that way, lulled into the first peaceful sleep he’s had in... as long as he can remember.

anywho back to not making sense cuz im fickle and i think most questions about ships are best displayed through character interactions so like- a possible exchange thats cliche but cliches exist for a reason

Xiao: Why do you try so hard to help me, it isn’t easy. I know that much Venti, with the most adoring expression: Because you’re worth it, obviously Xiao: But surely there are others more deserving of- Venti: No Xiao, everyone is just as deserving as the next person, you included Xiao: Then why me above others? Venti: ehe, cuz ur my warrior of course [O//////O oh shit, hes right] Xiao: My contract is with Morax alone [gay panic but in broody yaksha]

it’s kinda difficult cuz neither of them really address their feelings.  I mean Venti does but he does it very indirectly and its rare that he ever does it with like- genuine directness- even spilling his backstory was in the form of a song- and told in the third person- so a lot of their interactions would often have some deeper meaning, especially with Venti being the bard he is. 

I come up with a lot of- errant thoughts about Xiaoven- but this is making me realize that a true analysis of their ship is rather difficult because it just encompasses so many dynamics so its hard to settle on just one and not go rambling about who knows what bouncing from one end of the ship to the other-  Because you truly can and thats the beauty of it

within one moment you can be having a heartfelt conversation about the archon war the impact of lost friends and times past, and the next moment Venti is trying to forcefeed Xiao an apple while Xiao screams about disrespecting the adepti and its just- so lovely

so while they have picnics with nothing but apples, dandelion wine, and almond tofu they can sit down and talk about the dreams Xiao once devoured, and the dandelion wine and apple cider that the first Ragnvindir invented from the plants that never could have grown in Old Mond. The foods that tasted of familiarity, or of the grilled ticker fish Pervases always used to eat, foods that tasted of friends and frankly family that had since passed, glaze lilies and cecilias and qingxin flowers scattered in the surroundings and woven into Xiao’s neat braids and Venti’s now messy ones, rebraided by the steady and inexperienced hands of one unused to gentle action. 

and then of course Venti steals Xiao’s tofu once the mood becomes too grim and replaces it with a bottle of wine that Xiao refers to as “vile poison,” a remark that fatally wounds Venti as he collapses on the floor, proclaiming how he can only be healed by a Yaksha’s kiss. Xiao ignores this of course and simply takes back his tofu with a slight smile on his face, but as Venti persists he soundlessly places a kiss on his own palm before intertwining their fingers and pulling him back up from where he was dramatically sprawled on the floor, grumbling about how such action was “unbecoming of an archon.” A sign of affection only Xiao would ever know about. But Venti is literally wind and I hc his senses work differently anyways so he definitely knows- plus Xiao’s face is red as the blood of his enemies and the way he is pointedly not looking at Venti at all really speaks volumes anyways. 

 -Venti playing epic battle music whenever Xiao goes into fights in what looks like a ridiculously extra performance to anyone else but is actually doing wonders to keep Xiao’s karma at bay

-Venti preaches the practice of “kissing wounds better” and Xiao is unfamiliar with this medical treatment but views it as unnecessary regardless because adepti have accelerated healing, doesn’t mean he’s going to stop him though. 

-Messages whispered on the wind

-Venti’s 1000 year sleep- an accident, not a fun time for the yaksha, and not a fun time for Venti once he woke up. Venti is actually more afraid of restful sleep than Xiao is, hence the sleeping in trees thing, but when Xiao is there, he can sleep restfully with faith that Xiao wont let another millennia slip through his fingertips. 

- Xiao tends to make excuses when doing things that aren’t necessary to his duty, like in his birthday voice line “Have this, it’s a butterfly i made from leaves... Okay. Take it. It’s an adepti amulet -- it staves off evil” because at the current point in his progress it helps him to feel like he’s allowed to do these things. Not wanting to put him off from progress, Venti never comments on his excuse but never fails to whisper a quick reminder of how proud he is of how far Xiao had come.

- Xiao’s karma saddens Venti greatly- not only because of how it effects Xiao but also because its a reminder that as much as Venti tries to honor the memory of those he’s killed, there will always be those who resent him for it, and when he took the option of living away from them, he truly can’t blame them. - And when he gets too wrapped up in thoughts, whether around this topic or similar ones or otherwise, eventually, he’ll hear the sound of a flute on the wind. It’s not divine by any means, but as his own wind connects him to the source, he gets the sentiment all the same. “What impact does one individual’s remaining wrath have on the present. You have done much to help the living in the present” the unspoken idea that Xiao has included himself in that statement, because now, with Venti’s help he’s beginning to learn just how to experience living for himself. 

- Venti’s form and Xiao’s mask are off limit topics though because if either mentions it the other will counter with the opposite and the mood will turn immediately bitter at the idea that both know that what they’re doing is destructive but neither are willing to change

- Venti who has different tells for negative feelings than most people because as much as he likes to pretend it is- this form isnt his, and Xiao who is able to identify those

- many fanfics and headcanons have Venti recognizing when Xiao is uncomfortable and getting him out of those situations. I see that and I love it but i raise you: - Venti taking Xiao to Mondstadt, careful that he doesn’t get to the point that he’s uncomfortable. And nothing goes wrong exactly, but Xiao notices the the way Venti’s cape is blowing in the wind, the way he’s holding his weight, barely on his feet so much as floating on the wind, connected with the ground only for the sake of appearance, all the while he looks just as happy go lucky as ever. And without a word, he grabs his hand and teleports them both out of Mondstadt.  - turns out it was just a slight thing that reminded him of the archon war (cuz i will die on the hill of him having more tragic backstory than just Decarabian), and he of course gives a sincere if not flustered thanks to Xiao, because he’s really not used to people noticing. 

- Venti trying to vent sneakily through fictional stories and Xiao is just like “Didn’t that basically happen to you” and Venti is just like “<_< shit”

- Venti once said affectionally that he wished he had met Xiao sooner and Xiao immediately and seriously shot it down by saying “If you had, I would have been forced to kill you” and both of them now stay up at night wondering who would have won that fight, not sure which result would have hurt more. (because honestly I have no idea who would win in that fight and that terrifies me- I like to think it would have been one of those legends that end with “and the fight persists to this day” or something along those lines)

- “How long have you been together?” “Adepti have no need for-” “1000+ years T^T how dare you deny our love” “O///O our...? ...useless”

- its disney- let me explain- i have this- i have this headcanon inspired by watching too many animatics- - so venti has a human form that isnt his- which he would have had to get used to moving in- and he’s a bard- - uh- anyway- as a third degree black belt in mixed martial arts, i can speak as an authority on this(not really an authority since i havent gone since quarantine but lets pretend). We have a thing referred to as the big three(most things do), and those things are martial arts, gymnastics, and dance. The idea is that they reflect really well off of each other and the best in any one category are good in all three. Timing, balance, form, discipline, technique, hand-eye coordination, grace, ease of motion, they all play a part- anyway-

- Venti taking Xiao’s prowess in martial arts and acrobatics and teaching him how to dance, and as someone who’s extremely skilled in the first two, the third comes easy to him, almost naturally. And it’s delicate and beautiful and lovely and it isn’t hurting anyone. And Venti points all these things out and more and despite how much Xiao insists that he feels ridiculous he truly does enjoy it and it goes a long way towards helping him form more healthy views of himself and his worth.  - Verr Goldett walked in on him once and made a joke about performing at the inn. unfortunately Venti was there and agreed on Xiao’s behalf before he could protest and- and it wasn’t as bad as Xiao thought it would be... he still wouldn’t do it again though without reason, but with good enough reasoning he could probably be convinced. 

- anyways point is he likes dancing to Venti’s songs and i just think that’s really cute - just picture the idea that all the animatics you see actually have the potential to be canon- ugh

- venti tries holding something out of Xiao’s reach since he’s taller and Xiao just fucking teleports 

- both need their space but when they dont, all they have to do is speak the other’s name and they’ll be there.

- and because i just had to.... love languages

- lets start with Xiao- i don’t think he’d view acts of service or quailty time as a love language tbh, and he blunt but really bad with words so affirmation is out, leaving gift giving and physical touch. However, he seems to view most material things as meaningless so- - Xiao who’s love language is in his fleeting touches, something he’s only recently grown comfortable with because of Venti, and now is giving back, which he knows he doesn’t have to do, but that he want’s to, though he’ll still continue to make excuses for each one. “you were shivering” “The inn is high up, you could have fallen..... I said what I said, you’d question an adeptus?”

- and as easy as it is to say words of affirmation for Venti- he does that for everyone- i want to say his is actually acts of service - its the acts of service that let him see just how much Xiao has progressed afterall, from teaching him to dance, to playing another song on the flute, to supplying him with the almond tofu he seems to enjoy so much. Every little thing he does helps Xiao to grow and he couldn’t be happier about that. 

-

- of course most of my headcanons for the ship do take place latter into the relationship because- y’know the less serious unhealthy vibes allow for greater range of thought, but i do still love to think about the serious implications so i kinda hopped back and forth. So sorry about how messy it is btw, i kinda- got carried away- it kinda got some kind of structure near the end tho so- maybe it’s okay. anyway- back to... lol something, we’ll see where thought forests lead. 

[victorianpining]

What music/score choices would you have made in From A Drop Of Water if it was a real filmed season? 👀 the score episode of tjlc explained was always one of my faves and I was curious how you would’ve carried those motifs through!! (Also your playlists for the fic are So Good!! I’ve been listening to them so much!)

P.s. I hope you know your retrospective has launched me fully back into gay- brainrot mode after five years lmaoo, it’s been really fun!! (Also I knew nothing about BBC Dracula going into it and. I think I’ve lost my mind. What The Fuck. They really did that!?!?!?!! Anyway. I hope you have a wonderful day!! Can’t wait to see what you do next!💕)

Ooh interesting question! I have actually have a LOT of thoughts about this (way more than I thought I would when I started writing this answer) so I'm going to put most of the answer under the cut. Before then I'll say I'm glad you enjoyed the playlists and the retrospective! And man Dracula sure is A Show isn't it? (and thank you I am very excited to continue creating!!)

Onto Way Too Many Thoughts About A Hypothetical Score:

So in The Six Thatchers, Opportunities is working kind of as a camouflage for Moriarty so you don't hear his score, except it's also a giveaway since Moriarty is kind of the only character to be consistently associated with soundtrack songs and the lyrics are pretty obviously him. (The soundtrack songs also hopefully serve to make him kind of feel outside the rules of the narrative, since written pieces don't usually have soundtracks. I wanted all the music woven through his scenes to make him feel just slightly Off, he is the virus in the data after all).

Anyway, all that lead in to say that when Mary is walking through the college by herself, I think you'd hear the John or James music again, subtly bringing back that dilemma for her character before it gets overtaken by the lyrics talking about someone doctoring in mathematics, programming computers, and choosing the perfect crime for the perfect situation.

On the rooftop scene at the end of TST I'd want to do a version of the music playing in the Reichenbach roof scene to make that connection more blatant and kind of show you how far they've come since then.

And then for the big reveal at the end of the episode you'd finally get Moriarty's music along with a new play on The Fall theme, the one we have is good but I'd want something less overwhelming and more insidious, more intimate, and still just as unnerving. This new version of that theme is gonna be play for a few other important moments.

As an example, I wouldn't want it to be the same song but I think probably if there were a musical motif for Devil's Foot it should be in the same key or structured similarly as the new fall theme, again just making the connection more explicit, this drug burns out people's sanity, Moriarty is trying to burn out Sherlock's heart, he wants Sherlock to make the same choice as Jack but if he doesn't he plans to force his hand.

John or James music would come back on The Dorian when Mary shows up, I'm basically turning that into Mary's theme.

Then the shack! I think you want no music for that, right? Like all focus should be on what's being said and the silences between and it should feel so close that you can even hear them breathing. I would bring in some music outside when John asks if Sherlock has ever had a boyfriend. That would be a good place to have a subdued version of Sherlock's theme, and maybe, if you could get away with it, you could even call back to the Private Life theme in the score subtly. (Copyright might make that an issue though).

Ideally you'd have the same music playing for both versions of the scene with Sherlock and Culverton, maybe with some new instrumentation in the second version to reflect the new information you have at that point. Then Sherlock opens the box and we get that new fall theme, I'd have it building and building while John reacts to what's happening until you finally get the reveal of what Moriarty wants. And then just keep the intensity going until John finally manages to calm Sherlock down, then either bring in their themes or just let it sit without any music, the calm before the storm.

I have the most ideas for TFP. The first scene of TFP is obviously going to be Moriarty and Mycroft's themes. Like when the stranger comes through the door you hear Mycroft's little motif notes and along with everything else it's just another tip off that you already know who it is.

Back in Baker Street you have that fall theme playing in the background while Sherlock is freaking out, and then when John is alone puzzling over the box you'd hear the danger version of his theme, he's the answer to the puzzle and he doesn't even know it.

There are a lot of directions you could take the music for the scene with Sherlock and Moriarty. I'd probably call back to the music from Reichenbach scene, maybe with more hints of that new version of the Fall theme. When Sherlock realizes there's a fire that would be a good time to bring back the music from the fire scene in TEH, or some music from the pool scene, kind of just musically showing this is all an escalation from something we've already scene.

When Mycroft turns back up you should be hearing Moriarty's theme in the background.

Then when they're on the run again you just bring back those Moriarty and Fall themes, keeping that uneasy feeling going. I'd probably put in a subtle callback to Irene's theme when they arrive at the hotel in Paris since in the film version you couldn't have the line about the furniture reminding John of her house and that's kind of an equivalent hint.

Once Don't Stop Me Now dies out, I'd leave it quiet until Sherlock offers himself up, when you'd get a sad version of John's theme. Then when John offers to stab himself, you'd get a sad version of Sherlock's, until Moriarty gets a hold of him and that slowly morphs into the new fall theme, maybe with the Sherlock music still playing, since both John and Jim are after motivated by their feelings for him in that moment. You'd get a version of the Johnlock theme when Sherlock pulls John back up which would keep playing, slowly getting more hopeful as John has his revelation, but it's interrupted when Mycroft shows up.

Back in Baker Street I would want the music to build very slowly and very subtly. It should feel just like pieces falling into place without you really noticing the shift, like the music was always playing, just like it was a love story the whole time. And it would culminate in that perfect blending of John and Sherlock's themes that is both understated and triumphant. For the epilogue I'd have that same music but with the instrumentation they used for the TAB version of the title theme.

And as one final touch, I'd give The Empty Hearse members a musical motif that is a version of All The Woman from TAB.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Here’s My Problem: I Can’t Get You Out Of My Head

Seventeen + BTS Detective!Jeon Wonwoo x Actress!Reader Characters: Jeon Wonwoo, Jeon Jungkook, Kim Mingyu, Chwe Hansol (Vernon), Seungcheol (S.Coups), Chan (Dino), Yoon Jeonghan Summary: Wonwoo’s cold and calculating personality makes him a top detectivee. He’s currently in the middle of a murder investigation when he meets you, his favorite actress. His mind goes gooey when you’re near him though, and it messes things up for everyone. Can he deal with his dilemma? Word Count: 5k+ Warnings: Mystery, fluff, angst, detective au, actress au, TRIGGER WARNING graphic depictions of violence, stalking, killing, obessession, etc.

A/N: I’m going for that fall out boy/the 1975 kind of song title, ya feel me. And just like my Hoshi fic, I made Jungkook and Wonwoo siblings just because they have the same last name hekhek

And in case you start thinking otherwise, yall this is a work of fiction that does not represent reality at all.

Playlist:

Forget About It - All Time Low

Oh My! - Seventeen

Dream Girl – SHINee

I Love You 3000 – Stephanie Poetrie ft. Jackson Wang

Red Moon – KARD

Love U – Monsta X

Touch – NCT 127

Focus On Me – Jus2

Blue Flame – Astro

Psycho – Red Velvet

Let’s Not Fall In Love – BigBang

Slow Dancing In The Dark – Joji

Try Again – d.ear ft. Jung Jaehyun

Guess Not – eaJ

You Calling My Name – Got7

The Jeon brothers were popular in their neighborhood for being swoon worthily good looking. They were so popular in fact that girls from other schools in their proximity came around just to glimpse at them on the school bus.

The younger of the two, first name Jungkook, was an all around remarkable fellow. He was good at sports and academic, making him popular not only for his looks but as well as his athletic achievements.

The older Jeon on the other hand, Wonwoo, was far more reserved and mysterious. He excelled in his classes and was a top student in his class, but whatever loudness or extroversion his dongsaeng had, he did not possess.

It was somehow a match made in heaven for the brothers. They complimented each other and helped where they could.’

It was unsurprising the two began extremely different careers after graduating, Wonwoo having studied criminology, and Jungkook, filmography. Never did the two brothers think they would get an opportunity to work with each other having left the academic scene, until Jungkook finally got the greenlight to start production on his childhood dream project: a murder mystery film.

To be honest, it was an old, black and white mystery film that shaped the brothers into choosing their careers. Having been so fascinated with solving puzzles since he was younger, Wonwoo remembers vividly how amazed he was at how intricately woven the movie he watched with his brother was. And his said brother, Jungkook, found so much splendor in being able to watch such things, that he told himself he wanted to be someone who made those for a living.

And now here they were years later, working on a murder mystery film together.

Jungkook hired his brother to be as a specialist on set. To be honest, Jungkook thought his hyung would be a little bit more excited about it when he was going to be helping Jungkook not only live out a childhood but as well as be on set for a production he actually enjoyed the genre of.

In fact he had to beg Wonwoo to agree to work with him. Wonwoo argued he was in too deep with real life cases to be focused on the fictional case Jungkook wrote about.

And to be fair, Detective Jeon did not reach his rank for nothing, but neither did Director Jeon earn his reputation for nothing.

Still, the only reason why Wonwoo agreed to his brother because of you.

His favorite actress.

"Hyung," Jungkook calls his brother from the couch, "you should watch this drama. It's really good."

Wonwoo was too busy with his English homework to care.

Jungkook ate some chips and turned to his brother that was sat by the far off desk, "Hyyuuunnnngg!"

Said hyung grumbles, "I'm busy."

"Ya, the girl is really pretty."

"Good for her then."

Jungkook scoffs.

After Wonwoo had finished his homework, he decided to watch with his brother, not before scolding him of course. "You know, you'll be in the last year of your college soon too, so you better stop wasting your time watching dramas."

Jungkook rolls his eyes, "I'm literally studying filmography. This is studying for me."

"Aish, what do I know," Wonwoo hisses, grabbing some chips from Jungkook's bag. Once he turned to the screen, Wonwoo felt his eyes widen slightly. "You're right, she's pretty."

"Right? I'll hire her for my murder mystery movie," Jungkook says, nonchalant.

It amazes Wonwoo, even after months of working behind the scenes on this film, that he gets to see you in real life.

Even right now as you acted out a dialogue with another famous actor, Kim Mingyu, it felt surreal when he remembers you're actually just a few steps away.

Jungkook was initially baffled by how star struck Wonwoo was to meet you. I mean, he expected his brother to maybe fan girl, but he flat out blanked when you introduced yourself. For the first time in Jungkook's life, he saw his brother had no wits with him. It's still so hilarious to him that Wonwoo lost his so-called mysterious grace when you smiled.

"Cut! Good take," Jungkook called. He then went over to his brother who was holding a paper bag. It was obvious to anyone Wonwoo was holding some lunch.

Jungkook smiled. He extended his hand out, clearly expecting whatever his brother bought was meant for two, "what is that?"

Wonwoo scowled and moved the brown bag away, "it's not for you."

"Aw what? You bought food just for yourself."

"No. I bought this for-"

"The country's sweetheart," Jungkook teased and wiggled his eye brows.

Wonwoo deadpans and replies dryly, "Yes. Mingyu asked me to buy the sandwich I had the other day."

Jungkook raises his brows and crosses his arms.

Wonwoo clears his throat, "and yes. I bought an extra for her. Why? Can't I?"

Jungkook sneers and slaps his brother's shoulder, "homie is whippedt, with a T."

"What are you? A prepubescent teen?"

"I am cool."

"Ya, is that the sandwhich?" Mingyu calls, suddenly near them. Wonwoo's breath hitches when you smile and wave his way.

Jungkook sniggers softly and decides to watch it play out.

"Thanks, hyung," Mingyu states. Wonwoo and he were close because Jungkook and Mingyu were friends after working so often with each other.

Wonwoo turns to you but looks away when you catch his eye. He clears his throat and finally gains the courage to turn back, "ya... I got you a sandwich too."

Mingyu, who had gotten his sandwich at this point turned to the remaining one in the bag, Wonwoo, you, then pushed the sandwich your way.

You gratefully take the bag and turn to Wonwoo with a grin, "you didn't have to get me one."

Wonwoo scratches his nape, "... the thing is, I wanted to."

Mingyu and Jungkook turn to each other with wide eyes. You chuckle and feel blood rush up your neck.

"You know actually--" Wonwoo starts but gets cut off by his phone ringing. Jungkook eyes him hotly, trying to telepathically tell him not to answer it, but Wonwoo does anyway.

Mingyu rolls his eyes as Wonwoo begins to get into a deep conversation with whomever is on the other line.

Once he's done, Wonwoo turns back to his brother and says, "there's been another murder, I have to go."

Jungkook only nods and doesn't stop him, not that he would, not thay he could. It was terrifying to know that his older brother was so close to bringing a serial killer in.

It started long before production to Jungkook's latest project began. Missing person reports for college girls began to get filled, soon after these girls would be found dead. Initially, theses cases were treated separately since the incidents were scattered all over the city and were seemingly random. It had only been a few months since authorities announced the murders were done by the same person.

It was Wonwoo who spearheaded the investigation.

Wonwoo was on his way to his car to get to the latest crime scene when he was pulled from the back of his coat.

He quickly turn to see what it was holding him back and felt his cheeks burn at the sight of you panting and smiling, "hi."

Wonwoo raises a hand.

You huff, "detective Jeon."

"Yes."

"To be completely honest with you, I'm not sure if you like me or not. You don't really pay me much attention, but when you do you're awfully sweet when you're not avoiding eye contact."

Wonwoo opens his mouth but closes it right after.

"I understand you're a very busy person, and again I'm honestly not sure if you even like me, but I wanted to aks anyway: would you accompany me to a party next week?"

Wonwoo audibly gasps to which you gasp and giggle to. At this point, Wonwoo's face is burning, he can feel it, but he manages to nod, "I would love to."

You break into a smile and nod, "okay? Okay."

"Okay."

"Okay. Next week, friday, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay good."

tIt was honestly not tha good, considering Wonwoo couldn't stop thinking about it. How was his brain going to get through this crime scene before him when all he could think about was you. It was a real problem. Every time he looked into the room, he found something that reminded him of you, the laundry scattered in the bedroom floor, the posters of celebrities on the wall (to be fair there was one of you in the room), the trinkets on the table. Your everything was fogging his head.

He was lucky Hansol was as sharp as ever because it seems not even the putrid smells in the air was snapping Wonwoo out of his trance.

The date- was it a date (YES IT'S A DATE HYUNG -Jungkook)- came both quickly and agonizingly slowly.

Wonwoo wore a new suit he brought just for the occasion, and for that he was grateful, because this party you took him too was a lot fancier than he had anticipated. It was apparently one of those exclusive events that select people got invited to.

To say Wonwoo was intimidated and out of place would be completely accurate. He was never a party goer, even in college, but if it meant he got to see you dressed up in a rose gold dress and red lipstick then count him in.

Wonwoo tried to stay as close as you as possible-- not for any perverted reason, but so he wouldn't lose you and to protect you from anyone who would dare attempt anything perverted.

You forced him to dance though he never really danced much, but much like the reason why this party was appealing, he enjoyed dancing because of you.

Bless your soul you noticed how awkward Wonwoo looked and decided to call it quits for the dancing. The rest of the night was then spent drinking champagne in the venue's tiny balcony. It was honestly the first time you two had talked by yourself, and though it was awkward, your heart skipped at how Wonwoo described his passions with his deep voice and how he clumsily complimented you.

Honestly, you thought Detective Jeon was the most attractive man you had ever seen, both outwardly and inwardly. He had been nothing but a gentleman around you and never treated you like a distant celebrity, though the many times you've been told how much a fan of yours he was. You wanted to kiss his lips as he continued to speak, but you controlled yourself.

The most that you gave him was a kiss on his cheek when he called a cab for you. Wonwoo would've drove you home had you not specifically told him not to bring a car cause you two would be drinking.

It was still an amazing night regardless.

Page 6 of the newspapers thought so too, Wonwoo learned, as he walked into the station when he got to work.

Hansol rolled over with his office chair, wiggling his eyebrows, "how you doing there, chief."

Wonwoo pretends like he isn't all smug about it when he is, but when he thinks about how this may be impacting you, he doesn't feel smug at all, "mind your own business, Chwe."

"Ya. It is my business because you're dating my first love!"

Wonwoo snaps at him and sneers, "ya! Focus on your work."

Hansol sneers, "so protective."

Wonwoo mutes him out by putting on headphones that played the soundtrack of his favorite mystery film. As he tapped his foot to the beat, he reviewed the file of the serial murder case he was on.

There were a total of 13 victims-- that's how many films you've been in--

Wonwoo screws his eyes shut and shakes his head. That was the most inappropriate thought he could've suddenly thought of.

He reviewed the latest profile of the victim. She was in her last year of high school and played the flute. Wonwoo recalls how you attmepted to play a flute in a variety show.

Wait.

Stop it.

Shit.

Wonwoo increases the volume of his music. He reads that the victim is from your hometown. This actually makes him shiver. Wonwoo rips his headphones off and decides to take a bathroom break, taking his phone with him. This is where he sees a text message from you that reads: are you coming on set today?

Wonwoo quickly replies: yes.

Can you buy me a sandwich?

Yes.

The rest is history.

From that moment moving forward, Wonwoo's confidence is through the roof.. he not only manages to have a decent conversation with you with other, but even when it's just the two of you. He asks you out, to which you agree. He takes you to an ice skating rink, when he flaunts his skating prowess to your shaky legs. Don't tell him though, but you were faking it so that you can cling on to him tightly and closely. But no one mention either that Wonwoo totally saw through it.

Soon enough you became comfortable enough to cook to take him to your place to hangout. This was were Wonwoo finally addressed something that had been bothering him.

"Are you okay with what's happening?"

You knit your brows at his question.

Wonwoo clarifies, "I mean there are a lot of articles about us. At first it was pretty vague, but now they are mentioning my name in the papers. Are you okay with that?"

You pout and raise your brows, "are you okay with that?"

Wonwoo shakes his head, "I've never really cared about what people thought about me, only my friends and family."

You nod. Wonwoo looks in expectation. You can't help but chuckle, "if you want the truth, it's good publicity. You're a famous detective and the netizens are actually in love with you now because you're so handsome."

"... wait really?"

You pout and cross your arms, "I can't believe you're enjoying that."

Wonwoo can't help but laugh at your faintly jealous reaction. He pulls you to his chest and kisses the top of your head, "well, what I really enjoy is being close to you."

You relax against him and unwrap your arms just so you could cling on Wonwoo's torso.

"But you know what I would enjoy more?"

"Hmm?"

"...if... you became my girlfriend."

You pull away slightly and turn to him. You break into a smile, "I thought you'd never ask."

You then take his cheeks and pull him close to your face. You plant your lips on his and his pulls you closer by the small of your back. The kiss encloses the both of you in warmth. It's electric and so calming all at once. It just... feels right, y'know.

It's just pure bliss for the two of you.

At some point, Wonwoo really wasn't need on set anymore, and yet he came around to visit you and Jungkook. Who were you fooling, clearly Wonwoo came around to see you.

He would sometimes be able to take you out to lunch, depending on both of your schedules.

One this for sure was, you clearly both loved each other.

But that shouldn't have been affecting him so badly at work. It perturbed him that everywhere he went, too often even on his case that he thought of you. It disgusted him so much. He pushed all these thoughts away whenever it sprang into mind.

Wonwoo leaned back on his chair and turned from the evidence board he had been staring at for the last ten minutes, to the cup of coffee on his desk. He begins to recall one early morning he spent drinking some hot brew with you.

He smiles. Now that is a welcomed thought.

"I still don't get the correlation," Hansol spoke, making Wonwoo turn to him. He continues, "I'm starting to think that maybe the killer is just fully psychotic."

Wonwoo sighs, "the chances of him being a random picking killer is pretty slim at this point. Some of these girls are the same height and build, and some of them play the same instruments."

"Yes, but they have nothing collectively in common."

Wonwoo shakes his head, "there has to be. My gut is telling me there is."

Wonwoo's phone rings, except it's not his handphone but his work telephone.

"Hello, Detective Jeon from Seoul district 1 station."

No one replies, but there is heavy breathing from the other end. Wonwoo stands from his chair and presses the record button on his phone.

"You can't get her!" he growls in anger. He begins to scream and throw things in the background. Wonwoo pulls the phone away at the loudness.

The man on the other end heaves again. Wonwoo asks, "who is this."

"you know exactly who I am, you bastard!"

"No. If I did, you'd be in jail."

He laughs, "you think you're so good, huh?"

"Who and where are you?" Wonwoo asks, turning to Hansol pointing to the phone. He immediately understands and runs off to try and track who's calling form the other line, or at least where he is.

The man is shuddering in anger, "you will never have her. She's mine!"

Wonwoo feels bile rise from his throat, "who is she? Did you kill another girl?"

"Not yet, but I will if you don't back off. She's the only one I've actually loved and you want to take that away from me?"

"If you love her, why would you kill her?"

"SO YOU COULD NEVER LAY A FINGER ON WHAT'S MINE!"

"Women are not posses--"

"I WARNED YOU. STAY AWAY, OR SHE DIES!"

Hansol couldn't trace the call fast enough. And Wonwoo couldn't sleep that night.

This was when his visits began to lessen. He began to fully focus on his work again, no distractions, and for once, he hadn't thought of you. This was a direct consequence however of both sleep deprivation and not seeing you for a whole eight days.

The next day you visited him at work. It caused quite a commotion and Wonwoo's exhausted mind didn't take kindly to that, which was why he snapped at you and was super cold.

Hansol told him off for rudeness, but he just couldn't rest easy when he could do something at work that could help fins that lunatic serial killer. Chief Seungcheol agreed however that Wonwoo should take a break though.

The moment his head was put on straight, he felt extremely guilty for taking out his emotions on you. Wonwoo apologized profusely and of course you couldn't stay mad because you understood how much stress he was in.

But the thing was, he just couldn't get you out of his head. Again and again, everything he did reminded him of you. The evidence even lead him back to you like a compass and it was too much for him too handle.

This was exactly why it hurt so much when Wonwoo decided to let you go for the sake of the case.

He explained everything to you so neatly. "I am so madly in love with you that I see you everywhere. I see you in the sky. I see you in my coffee. I see you in the breeze. I see you in my sweaters. But I see you too in the evidence I have for the case. I see you in the files and the map board, and it's seriously messing with my head."

It was a line out of movie. It didn't mean it didn't hurt. You were crying your eyeballs out. You didn't understand what breaking up could do to help.

"You wouldn't be mine anymore, so that would incline me not to think about you."

You so badly wanted to slap Wonwoo for saying that, but you couldn't, because he was breaking up with you to catch a killer and prevent anymore murders from happening. If he was that bothered, he probably shouldn't be on the case anymore but you couldn't ask him to leave it when he was distracted because of you.

So instead, you turned away and left.

Wonwoo almost ran after you; it took everything in him not to.

"Don't worry, Jeon," Seungcheol comforted, placing a hand on Wonwoo's shoulder, "the sooner we catch the lunatic, the sooner you can get back with your girlfriend."

"Not unless I get her first," Chan from forensics chimes in, walking with new files of evidence.

"Dude," Hansol barks.

Chan gives an innocent face, "what? I'm trying to lighten the mood." He then hands the file over to Seungcheol, "here you go chief. The killer branded the latest victim's neck with three squares."

Wonwoo spins on his office chair.

Hansol knits his brows deeply, "has he done that with the other victims?"

"No. This is the first time."

Seungcheol places a hand on his chin, "wait. Why does this seem so familiar to me?"

Hansol watches Wonwoo begins to spin the other way around.

Seungcheol shakes his head and rattles his brain for some answer. He suddenly turns to Wonwoo, "ya. Do you know 'The Sleeping Tower'?"

Wonwoo turns to Seungcheol, "yeah, the killer in that drama marked his victims with three squares."

eSungcheol has goose bumps. Hansol turns to Wonwoo, "wait, what is The Sleeping Tower?"

Wonwoo says faux nonchalant, "a drama my ex is in."

Hansol pulls his head back.

Seungcheol moves to the evidence board, "wait just a second, Wonwoo. Did you say all the evidence point to her?"

Everyone shifts their attention to the chief. Wonwoo stops spinning on his chair, "are... are you telling me wh-"

"What do you see, Wonwoo?" Suengcheol asks.

Wonwoo stands form his chair and walks over. He begins to explain the correlation between you and the evidence and the... victims' personality. He argues with himself as he explained what he saw. As he pointed out one thing, he disagreed it could make sense. Wonwoo continued on like that until he actually hears himself say it. This is the first time he’s ever said all this aloud.

Hanson and Chan turn to each other in bewilderment as the detective being to point out strong points.

Wonwoo nearly falls down when he realizes it. Seungcheol turns to him, but Wonwoo's already bolted out the door.

Wonwoo is calling you nonstop. He's gripping the steering wheel so hard.

It all makes sense now. The shirts, the hobbies, the physical attributes, they were all yours. The victims had your merchandise, liked things you did, had procedures done to look like you-- they were your fangirls

And the killer was obsessed with you.

Wonwoo stepped on the gas and turned the siren on.

He screamed your name when he got to your home. You lived in a quiet apartment complex. The good thing about that is the people would be alerted by suspicious people and noise, there were bound to be at least eye witnesses, and there would be cameras in the area.

Wonwoo still had the keys to your apartment. His hands quivered as he jammed the key open.

Once he stepped in someone screamed, "YOU'RE TOO LATE!"

Wonwoo fumed as he saw a long haired man laughing as he stood an open window. He took a moment to assess that he has nothing but a twisted look on his face, he had nothing on his hands or clothes. He charged for him, which in hindsight may truly have been a bad move because he got kicked in the gut.

"I have nothing to live for anymore," he whispers as Wonwoo recoils at the assault. It enrages the detective, and it drives him with enough adrenaline that when the psychopath tires to jump out of the window, he catches him and sequentially bashes the guys face into the sill. He pulls him away and begins to assault his face.

Wonwoo is screaming with tears running down his face when it dawns to him the psychopath said it was too late. He pulls away from the knocked out man. He is shaking.

He screams your name and looks for you in every room. His mind is racing. He’s just too frantic to even begin to think what could have happened to you. He falls to his knees when he reaches the bathroom. There is red scattered everywhere and tub full of it. He makes a desperate sound.

He can't see properly from all his tears. He quickly crawls to the tub and heaves heavily when he sees the body in it.

Wonwoo's hand his trembling when he takes on of yours and feels for a pulse. His lips quiver when he can't find it. He turns to your submerged face and gently moves it to try and get a pulse from your neck. He reels back and makes a horrible sound when he finds a long slice that is gushing out red. Wonwoo at this point is sat on the wet ground, trembling with tears.

He is out of his wits.

He has no idea what to do.

He doesn't even notice that the police team is already here. The next thing he knows is he isn't in your apartment anymore. He is inside a police car, he thinks.

Wonwoo is numb to it all-- the sounds, the flashing lights.

He wonders how he wound up in his brother’s house, and how they both ended up crying in each other’s arms.

"Breaking News: After finally a week's worth of trial, the Supreme Court rules 25 year old Yoon Jeonghan triple life sentence after finding him guilty of the murder of 14 women. He admitted to his crimes and claimed they were out of love. He was a deeply obsessed fan on one if his victims, the actress who was recently given a memorial three days ago. Detective Jeon Wonwoo, who was head investor of the serial killing case, was awarded a medal of honor for apprehending Yoon, which he declined. Detective Jeon was also the boyfriend of the late actress, and was seen with his brother, Director Jeon Jungkook, at the service saying a few words in memoriam of the country's sweetheart."

[andwereallmadhere]

You’re Not Alone | Jean x Reader

Paring: Jean x f!reader (slight Eren x reader mentioned)

Genre: FLUFF!, song fic

Word Count: 4.5k 

Warnings/ Triggers: Alcohol, underage drinking 

A/N: I was inspired by the Big Time Rush song You’re Not Alone (Link below). This is not the first thing I have written, but it is the first I am posting. Characters might be OOC but I feel like the overall feeling is there. I hope you enjoy!

Link to song: https://youtu.be/tbS5JF32szE

I bet you didn't notice First time your heart was broken You called me up and we talked til the morning

Jean is woken from his sleep by the harsh ringing of his phone. He fumbles for a minute trying to slide the little green button to answer the call. He puts the device up to his ear before stuffing his face back into the pillow, “Why are you call me it’s the middle of the night?” Sleep heavy in his gruff voice. He is quickly answered by your voice sobbing on the other end of the receiver. This immediately broke him out of his sleep-filled mind. He should have known when he saw your picture flash on the screen that you would only be calling if it was important. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He says wiping a guilty hand over his face. You didn’t respond. Still unable to form proper words through all the tears. He continues to quietly talk to you in an attempt to calm you down. Once the sobbing ebbs he finally asks, “Y/N, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

He only hears you choke out a single word, “Eren.”

Jean and Eren never did get along, in however long you and Jaeger had been dating. But, as your best friend, Jean tried his best to accept him since that would make you happy. So hearing that HE is the reason you are crying at 2 A.M. enrages Jean. 

“What did that bastard do? Did he try something you didn’t want? Do I need to beat him up? Y/N, I swear to god if he hurt you I will-“

“No Jean. It’s not like that.” “Then what is it like?”

“He dumped me.”

“Y/N…”

“He just came by my house and told me that “I’m just over it I guess”. What am I supposed to do with that?”

“He’s a dick, I’ve told you that from the beginning.”

You only respond by sobbing more.

Eren had been your first real boyfriend. And as much as Jean didn’t want it to be true, you were head over heels. Everyone knew this would happen eventually, he just hoped there would be a little more warning. Maybe a fight or something but just cutting it off without a real reason? Jean had theories that he was probably hooking up with someone else and didn’t want the guilt of being a cheater, but you didn’t need to hear that right now. You didn’t need overprotective Jean hating on Eren. You needed best friend Jean to comfort you and assure you that you are worthy of love and everything is going to be okay.

“Hey, you can do better than him. He’s the real loser here. Any guy would be lucky to have you and the next one has to go through me first.” Jean says half meaning it, half attempting to make you laugh.

“Stop it, Jean, You know you’d lose every fight.” He can almost hear the smile in your voice, despite the tears that are certainly still running down your face. 

“Why don’t I come get you? We can go for a drive or something.”

“Okay.” Your soft voice is followed by a sniffle.

“I’m on my way.”

Jean gets out of the warmth of his bed and finds his sweatpants. He throws on a hoodie and grabs an extra in case you forget to bring your own. It's pretty chilly out tonight. He grabs his keys and begins the drive to your house. Once he arrives he sees your form sitting on your porch. Always the gentleman, he walks over to you and offers to help you up. You grab his hand and he can still see the tear stains on your cheeks. Once you are on your feet he pulls you into a hug. “Hey,” Jean says returning your tight squeeze. “Let’s go get you some food.” 

You don’t respond, but your grip around his waist losses and you begin making your way to the car. He opens the door for you and watches as you immediately grab the spare hoodie and slide it over your head. It’s obviously too big for you, but you are grateful for the extra fabric to bury your sad face in. 

The ride is mostly silent, Jean wanted to give you room to talk if you wanted. After a bit of having his hoodie pulled up to your nose, it was clear that you were too caught up in your own drowning thoughts to say anything so he turned on a very soft playlist from his phone in hopes of providing you some distraction.

Jean stops the car and you see he has brought you to a Waffle House. He knows it your favorite. Sure the food isn’t great but there is something about the mediocracy of the establishment that gets you. “Come on slowpoke, I’m buyin’,” Jean says after opening your door. You give him a thank you before following him into the restaurant. 

The two of you find a small booth, given that it was well into the night, there weren’t any people there other than the handful of employees. “You’ll have to talk to me eventually you know,” Jean says. You take a moment to look up from the menu he knows you have memorized by now. Just then a waitress comes by to take your order. 

Jean already knows exactly what you want because you always get the same thing. Just as he tells the waitress your order you finally speak, “Hey Jean.” Your voice is slightly above a whisper, “can I have chocolate milk?” You look back down at the table while Jean turns back to the waitress, “And can the lady have a chocolate milk, please and thank you.” Jean smiles at you as the waitress walks away, your silly request signaling that his best friend is slowly but surely coming out of this shell of sadness. 

Sure enough, you begin to open up. You tell him more of the details about Eren dumping you. Your food arrives and you laugh when Jean spills his glass of water on his lap. The two of you eventually move to the barstool countertops to talk to the fry cook, trying to convince him to make you a pancake instead of a waffle. Eventually Jean pays, leaving a generous tip as an apology for your late-night shenanigans. 

Walking to the car you can see the pastel colors of the impending day reaching the sky. Not ready to go home yet you lean into Jean’s body, tugging on his arm, “Let’s go watch the sunrise!” 

“You’re ridiculous.” He says shaking his head, “get in the car.” He smiles and opens your car door. Of course he was going to let you watch the sunrise. He is going to drive you to the park and find a place high up and the two of you will talk about nothing at all until you fall asleep in the passenger seat of his car. He is really just happy that the outing has worked. No, 4 A.M. waffles cannot cure your broken heart but it at least made you smile. 

And the time that you were stranded I was there before you landed He was a no show, I made sure you got home

High school seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Graduation came and went and your family decided that you should spend the summer at your aunt’s house on the other side of the country. Of course, you loved your aunt and her kids, but spending your last real summer break away from your friends wasn’t a huge selling point. Ultimately, your mom said you had to go because the trip was already paid for and your aunt was expecting you. The only reason you eventually agreed was that the majority of your little group were all attending the same college, so at least it wasn’t goodbye.

The day before Freshman move-in everyone decided to throw a party at Eren and Mikasa’s house. Eren’s parents were out of town a lot so that is usually where the gang got together. Jean and Eren still don’t along great, but Jean was close to Sasha and Connie who happened to be okay friends with Armin and Mikasa, and thus your little group was formed for better or for worse. After the night Eren dumped you out of the blue, Jean was furious with him, only for you to accept Jaeger’s lame-ass apology and take him back a week later. Luckily there hadn’t been any more repeats of that night. Maybe Eren was telling the truth and did actually like you, so Jean played nice even if he didn’t fully forgive the brunette. 

And now he was here, with you on FaceTime while you wait for your flight at the airport and Jean is getting ready for Eren’s dumb party that you won’t even make it to. 

“So when does your flight get in?” Jean asks folding the remains of the load of laundry his mom did this morning. 

“I think about 11 if it’s not delayed again. I’m super bummed that I won’t make it in time for the party.”

“It’s at Jaeger’s house, can’t he just bring you by after he picks you up?” 

“I guess so, but he also said something about taking me home because it’ll be late and we have move in tomorrow.”

Jean hums in response. It is a valid argument logically, but none of them have seen you all summer except for the occasional FaceTime. The only real reason Jean was going to this stupid party was that you were supposed to be back in time. Jean can hear a voice come over the intercom in the airport. “Hey, Jean, that’s my flight. I gotta go.”

“Alright, Y/N, let me know when you land. See you soon.”

With that, the call ended. Your face replaced by a photo of you and Jean at prom making silly faces. Yeah, Eren was your date and Jean took Mikasa, but you all took photos together and his mom insisted on getting one of the two of you. It was obvious that the picture pissed Eren off, and that made it even more special to Jean. 

Eventually, Jean finished the laundry and headed over to Eren’s. At least everyone else will be there and he can kick Connie’s ass at beer pong. Jean purposefully arrived a little late, so he knew everyone else would already be there, and sure enough, Eren had the white folding table already set up in the garage and Armin had started a little bonfire in the backyard. “Horseface You made it!” Connie says throwing an arm around Jean. 

“I told you not to call me that.”

“What are you going to do send Y/N after me? Oh wait…She’s not here!”

“We both know Y/N could easily kick your ass so shut up.”

Jean went around greeting everyone else and made good on his promise to dominate at beer pong. A while later he takes a seat next to Armin, who was currently roasting a marshmallow. “Ever put peanut butter on a s’more? Whole new experience.”

Armin looks over at Jean, “Y/N show you that?”

“Oh no, secret’s out,” Jean says taking a drink of water. After the game of beer pong, which was a little closer in score than Jean would have enjoyed, he decided to take it easy on the booze so he could actually drive home.

“When does her flight get in anyway?” Armin asks removing his marshmallow from the flame. 

“She told me about 11 when we talked earlier. Said Eren was going to pick her up.” 

At the mention of his name the two look over to see Eren taking a shot with Sasha and Connie. “Did anyone tell him that?” Armin says with a small chuckle. 

Jean looked at his watch, it was only 9, if the bastard stop drinking now he might be sober enough to come get you. So Jean let it slide. 

But Eren didn’t stop drinking. It was now 10:30 and Eren was plastered. Jean watches as Eren and Connie arm wrestle and sighs. What would Y/N think if she saw her boyfriend like this? “Shit,” Jean says standing from his chair around the fire. This gets the attention of Armin and Mikasa who were also over Eren’s drunk bullshit, “What is it?” Armin questions. “Y/N. Eren is supposed to pick her up from the airport in 30 minutes.”

“Well, that’s not happening!” Sasha laughs, also drunk. 

Jean stood up and finished his soda before pulling his car keys from his pocket. 

“And where are you going Horseface? Afraid you’ll lose in arm wrestling?” Eren suddenly joins the conversation. Jean cannot believe this asshole, he doesn’t even realize! Jean contemplates throwing a punch, but that will inevitably start a fight and the airport is almost 40 minutes away so he’ll already be late. So instead, Jean crushes the soda can in his hand and walks away. “Ha! Horseface is a scary cat!” Eren yells at his back before Mikasa smacks Eren on the head. 

Jean’s anger melts through the drive. As upset as he is that Jaeger forgot, Jean is excited to see you. He’s not sure how he’s going to explain this one to you though. He parks his car and glances at the time, 11:15. At least you haven’t been waiting too long. 

Luckily the airport is pretty small and there are only a few incoming flights so it’s not hard to figure out which gate your flight should have landed at. He thinks it's a little odd you haven’t texted him that you landed safely but he dismissed it as he made his way to the gate. Jean is surprised to find the gate empty. No hugging families or people searching for their luggage. There are a few scattered people here and there, also apparently picking up various passengers. After talking with another guy, Jean finds out that the flight had been delayed before take off so it is running late. You were not stranded at the airport, you hadn’t even landed. 

Jean found a seat and began scrolling on his phone. He didn’t expect to have so much time so he didn’t really bring anything with him, not even headphones to listen to music. He sat waiting for what must have been a solid 30 minutes before he started to fall asleep in the chair. 

“Jean!” He hears your voice call, this rouses him from the light sleep. Once he sees your face he can’t help but smile. He stands to walk over to you but is practically knocked over when you throw yourself into his arms. “Hey, stranger.” He says wrapping his arms around you. 

“It feels like it has been forever!” You pull away from him and reach for your suitcase, but Jean beats you to it, grabbing the handle before you can. “I can carry it you know.” But you know it’s useless arguing. Mama Kirstein raised a gentleman, that’s for sure. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be at a party?” You ask, giving him a side-eye as you follow him to his car. “Yeah…about that…” Jean still hasn’t figured out exactly what to say about why Eren ditched you. 

“Eren drunk himself stupid, didn’t he?” You say, almost casually. Like you expected it all along. 

“Yeah, but lucky for you I know a guy with a soft spot for you.” Jean places your things in the trunk before opening your car door.

“My shining stallion, always coming to my rescue.”

“Yeah, yeah, get in the car Princess.” He says. Eren’s stupid horse jokes have started rubbing off on you.

You spent the whole drive telling Jean about your trip, even though you talked with him almost every day you were gone. Jean in turn told you all the ridiculous things Sasha and Connie did while you were away. They still had group game night, which surprisingly Eren and Jean only tried to kill each other a handful of times. You laugh when Jean tells you the full story about Connie smashing Sasha’s face into a cake she brought one night, claiming “There is never a bad time for cake.” Sure they all sent you the pictures but you still loved hearing the story. And before you know it Jean pulled up in front of your house. 

He carried your suitcase to the door and turned to you, “I’ll pick you up at 6 alright?” Right, Jean offered to drive you to orientation tomorrow and it was a four-hour drive to the University. With all the excitement of seeing your best friend, you forgot about college tomorrow. “Ugh so early? That’s like 4 hours from now” 

“Unfortunately. Even then we’ll be cutting it close.”

“Fine. I’ll see you at 6.” You say giving him a final hug.

“Jean," you say into his chest, “I’m kind of glad it was you and not Eren that picked me up. I missed you. Thanks for always being there for me.”

“For you. Always.” Jean returns your hug before walking back to his car.

All the days that you were stressed out Feeling like pulling your hair out They were all missing but I was here listening

Freshman year came and went and now you were currently crying over your trigonometry textbook before your final tomorrow. Your other finals had gone pretty well and other than this stupid test you were finished with your first full year of university. Surprisingly Jean and Eren didn’t kill each other despite being suite mates. Originally the two were supposed to be roommates, but Armin quickly volunteered to switch with Jean, the blond being a little more equipped to handle Eren. You on the other hand shared a dorm with Sasha and Mikasa. Since it was the three of you you managed to snag a bigger room and didn’t have to share a bathroom with anyone else. When the gang got together for movie night it was usually in your room since the boys lived just down the hall. Overall it had been a pretty good year. 

Everyone else had already finished their finals, the majority of your group moving back home on Wednesday, except Jean who had his last final today. Jean also offered to stay an extra day so you could drive home together, but he would never say that out loud. “I’m gonna use the extra time to relax since Jaeger is gone. Living with him for a year almost killed me!” He would claim, ever the dramatic. But you knew he was also staying for you since you didn’t have a car and he did a similar thing for winter break. 

Trig had been your worst class all semester. No matter how many times you worked through the problems you were always getting a different answer, usually the wrong one. Armin helped you study for your midterm, but since he was already gone you were left alone. While your overall grade wasn’t bad considering you did all of the extra credit options your professor offered, this test could make or break your final GPA. If you could get at least an 85% it would bump your grade from a high C to a low B. So you have been doing nothing but math since your other finals finished this morning. And you were about to cry. Again. After completing the study guide and taking half a dozen practice tests you aren’t anywhere close to what you needed. After grading your last practice test, you barely managed an 80% and that was being nice to yourself. 

“I’m never going to get this.” You sob, ink running from the tears now spilling onto your paper. Then there is a knock on the door.

“Who’s there?”

“The pizza guy?” Jean says from the other side of your door. At the mention of food, you realize you hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning, which wasn’t saying much since you had a muffin and cup of coffee after Mikasa yelled at you for forgetting to eat earlier in the week. But you didn’t want Jean to see you struggling this much. Yeah, you could talk to him about anything but he was always so gifted when it came to school, even graduated top of the class in high school. So the idea of him seeing you brought to tears by something he saw as easy made your heartache. You were afraid he would accidentally make fun of you in that cocky way he does, or he would offer to help but realize you were a lost cause before ditching you altogether.

“Go away, Jean. I’m studying,” You yell back, attempting to hide the overwhelming stress from your voice.

“Well take a break, I wasn’t joking about the pizza. Mikasa told me you haven’t been eating so you better open this door, Y/N, before I resort to drastic measures.”

You give up getting him to go away, plus that pizza sounds so good. You get up and open the door, “And what would these ‘drastic measures’ be?” 

“Sasha left her keys in our dorm, so I probably would have just walked in.” Jean finally takes a look at your face, and despite your efforts to wipe away your tears, Jean knows you’ve been crying.

“Y/N what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure? You-‘ You cut him off before he can finish. “What kind of pizza did you bring?” 

“Your favorite, of course.” Jean sets the pizza on your bed while you grab some drinks out of the little micro-fridge. Jean glances at your desk and quickly takes in the scattered notes and tear-stained papers. Suddenly it makes sense. Your lack of eating, how you haven’t been responding to texts, and the tears when you opened the door. “I can help you you know? I took Trig last semester.” 

“I told you not to worry about it.” You say attempting to be mad at him for snooping but it’s pointless. You take a seat on the bed and open the pizza box, “Horseface.” You add almost in a whisper. 

Jean visibly shrivels at the name, “No. Not you. Not allowed.”

This small comment was enough to change the subject, and his mild anger at such a stupid name pulls an amused smile out of you. The two of you eat and converse as usual. He tells you about his last final and how Eren left their shared bathroom a mess that he needs to take care of before you leave tomorrow. You talk about how one of your professors just showed a movie during the final period since they are required to hold class despite not actually giving a test. And you feel the stress leave your body, even if just for a moment. 

After a while, Jean looks back over at your desk before grabbing your textbook and the last practice test you took. “This isn’t bad, Y/N, looks like some simple mistakes that you keep making, fix those and you’ll be fine.”

“How can I fix something I don’t know I’m doing wrong?” You ask.

“Because I’m going to help you, idiot.”

Jean proceeds to walk you through your last practice test and showing you the mistakes he was talking about. After helping you do a few more problems, Mr. Kirstein makes you do another practice test that he’s going to grade. While you take the test Jean lays on your bed, scrolling through his phone. He’s trying not to look at you, not wanting to add more pressure to you by feeling watched. 

After you are finished you pass him the paper and watch as he marks up the pages with a red pen. Eventually, he turns to you and gives you back the test, a solid 83%. Not as good as you hoped but you don’t want to discredit Jean’s tutoring. After walking through the test you look at the clock, it's currently 1 A.M. 

“Well Y/N, your test is first thing in the morning and I don’t think stressing yourself out more is going to help you at all.”

“But what am I supposed to do? I need an 85!”

“You need sleep,” Jean says, packing up your study materials.

“One more practice test, then I sleep, I swear.’

“Sleep now. Maybe you can do another in the morning.”

There is no use in arguing with Jean, he always gets his way. Once the study materials were all put away Jean takes your laptop and opens up Netflix, knowing you won’t be able to sleep if you were still worked up. The two of you sit side by side on your bed watching some stupid movie until Jean notices your eyes have closed and your breathing has evened out. As quietly as possible Jean closes the laptop and climbs out of the bed. He puts a blanket over your sleeping form and turns off the light before closing the door to your room. 

The next morning you wake up with a text from Jean. Opening your door you find a fresh coffee and a doughnut waiting on your doorstep. “That idiot.” You mumble to no one, but gratefully pick up the small meal he left for you. After eating you get ready to go and resign to looking over some notes before the exam. Once in the classroom, all the stress from last night comes crashing back. You just have to keep reminding yourself that a C in trig isn’t bad. Your GPA will still be above a 3.0, barely but still. And before you know it your teacher has told you to begin your exam so you log on to your computer and start your test. 

The good thing about the test being on the computer is that you’ll know your results immediately. After going over the answers a second time you finally hit the submit button. You stare at the little blinking cursor as it checks through all your answers, holding your breath. Suddenly your final grade pops up on the screen and you can’t stop the tears that slip from your eyes. You gather your things and head back to your dorm. But you find Jean waiting outside the building, leaning against the car without a care in the world. “JEAN!” You practically scream upon seeing him. He can see the tears on your face, “It’s okay, Y/N. Trig is pointless anyway. You still did great even if you got a C.”

“I did it! Jean, I got a 90%!”

“That’s my girl!” Jean says giving you a high five.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, teach.” You say giving him a big grin.

“Come on, Y/N. I say we get you a celebratory milkshake before we drive home. Jean says opening the door for you. Your eyes follow him as he walks around the car to the driver’s side. You are lucky to have him in your life. Yeah, he can be kind of an ass from time to time, but his heart is always in the right place. 

'Cause I'll be right there (right there) For every minute This time, it's no different Whatever happens you should know 'Cause you're not alone, girl Look over your shoulder You don't have to wonder 'Cause you know, you know, you know You're not alone, girl

[phoebe-delia]

harry potter characters ass musical songs (i'm not big with musicals, and so only have ideas about regular music and am interested in your thoughts)?

My dear nonnie, thank you ever so much for this question. I love getting these types of asks.

This was a challenge in the best way. I loved thinking of the HP characters and matching them to a song that captured their development or personality. I hope you enjoy this list, and that it might spark further interest in musicals for you. And if you'd like any recommendations of shows, just shoot me an ask or a DM!

Also--if you want to watch something super funny, look up "A Very Potter Musical" by Starkid. They've done 3 parody musicals based on Harry Potter and they're fantastic. Lauren Lopez, who plays Draco, is fantastic. It also has Darren Criss as Harry; you might know him from "Glee" or the Gianni Versace show.

Without further ado, here are HP characters as musical theater songs.

Harry Potter: "Totally Fucked" from Spring Awakening--This boy has been through it. He's cynical but still pushing through life. This song would really fit from 4th year on, when he starts to realize the world just seems stacked against him, out to kill him.

Hermione Granger: "Everything Else" from Next to Normal--She puts a lot of pressure on herself, and all she wants to do is put her head down and succeed. She's a little bitter, but still hopeful, and she focuses on her studies and interests to keep her going. She's constantly stressed but she knows she had to keep pushing in order to achieve her goals. She studies and works as a coping mechanism, hoping that the world will be okay if she just works a little harder.

Ron Weasley: "Mister Cellophane" from Chicago--Oh, poor Ron. He feels so underestimated and overlooked. He's the youngest boy in the family, and he doesn't have the traits that make his brothers and Ginny stand out. He seems average in every way, especially in comparison to the fucking Boy Who Lived and the Smartest Witch of Her Age

Draco Malfoy: I have two songs and they're both from Heathers.

1. "Candy Store"-- Tell me this isn't Draco offering his hand to Harry. Just. Someone pleasseeeee draw Draco and Pansy and Blaise as the Heathers I need it stat please and thank you.

2. "Lifeboat"--This is Draco in 6th year, desperate and paranoid and terrified. This is him realizing what he's gotten into by being a Death Eater and being scared for his life. He's questioning everything he's been taught and wishing for it to be over.

Ginny Weasley: "Right Hand Man" from Something Rotten--This is Ginny proving that she's just as strong and helpful as any man. She's constantly had to prove her strength against her rowdy brothers, but when her husband (or wife if she's with Luna or Pansy bc that girl is gayyyyy if not bi) needs help, she'd be like "let me help you damn it!"

Luna Lovegood "Sonya Alone" from Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812--This is my dear, sweet Luna. She's sort of been quietly protecting and helping the Order during the war, never imposing but always there when needed. She's strong in the way most of the other characters aren't, in that she has a quiet fortitude that makes her in some ways more powerful. She has that in common with the character of Sonya, who does the right thing to help Natasha in this song. Luna is loyal, dedicated, and selfless, and this song reflects that.

Pansy Parkinson "Charming" from Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812--Just, this is Pansy. Helene is Pansy Parkinson, it's a fact. Manipulative, seductive, confident, and smart. It's just perfect for her character.

Thanks sm again for the question nonnie! This was so fun.

Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!

[buckys-other-punk]

Hold on..THIS IS YOU?!

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Request: where she is a fanfic writer and Sebastian stumbles upon her blog and messaged her as well not letting her know who he was but being an open person she is as to who she was, sending pictures and all, and until one day, decides to meet with her and she is surprised that it was the one she was writing for?

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: fluff, sarcasm (of course) and cussing? i think that’s all

A/N: Hello my lovelies. I am sorry I haven’t been posting as much, but that’s usually how I roll..no jk I legit had no time to write because of my classes this semester, so if this sucks I’m sorry lol. I’m still trying to get back into my writing groove...Also don’t mind my minor mistakes 😅

A/N 2: Anyways I AM BACK AND this is my first request ever!! I’m so excited to write this, I am soo sorry this took forever, but hope I did your request justice and that you like it (and so do others). I feel like I wrote this kinda cheesy, but whatever.

[Y/B/N = your blog name]

As always lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my future works and feedback is very much appreciated. Enjoy! <3

Just another normal day without stress and a less anxiety filled world...no, today was actually awful. You were swamped with work and your best friend was complaining about her boyfriend. Let’s just say that the stress she was having with him was making you feel happy that you were single. Trying to relax you heated up some coffee (a/n: or tea) and sat on the couch of your small apartment. Grabbing your laptop you wanted to unwind reading. Probably some fanfics on Tumblr usually does the trick. 

After reading some pretty good marvel related fics by your mutuals, you got inspired to write some fics yourself. Opening up a new tab you began writing about your favorite actor, Sebastian Stan. That man literally makes your miserable day a little better. Sadly, like all the girls and women who fantasize over him, he doesn’t know you. But, whatever right? You can always use your imagination and conjure up a make believe world where the two of you are happily engaged and have a German Shepard puppy named Stitch. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you opened another tab on your laptop to pull up your writing playlist, you began typing away on your keyboard writing a new AU where you’re the celebrity of the world you were creating and he was a huge fan of you. After you finished your new fic, you posted that immediately without edits because you were so excited to see people read it.

*across town*

“Have you guys ever read any fanfiction about your characters or yourselves?” the interviewer asked the pair.

“You know I’ve seen a few that were quite impressive. These writers are damn creative.” Anthony replied with a smile. “I will also not lie. I’ve read a few steamy ones and y’all are dirty.” he added with a slight disgusted face shaking his head towards the camera.

“What about you Sebastian? Have you read any?” the interviewer lady asked, looking over to the man.

“Honestly. I haven’t.” Sebastian chuckled looking back at her. “Maybe, if Mackie here finds a good one about me I’ll give it a read.” shrugging towards his friend.

“Oh man, I got a few that are worth reading.” Mackie laughed, rubbing his hands together.

“Hey, might as well share them with the world. Let’s give that writer a shout out!” she exclaimed, placing her notecards on her lap.

“Well, like I’ve said I’ve only read a bit, but I do have some blogs that I’ve saved. Maybe next time I’ll name drop a few and give fans some well deserved praise.” Anthony smiled looking at the two.

“Alright, well you better have a huge list for me.” the lady said with a smile looking at Anthony. “Thank you both again for your time. For everyone watching Falcon and the Winter Soldier comes out in March 2021.” She finished off the interview smiling and waving at the camera and the two men followed her actions as well. Once the cameras and mics were turned off the lady came back to the two men.

“Thank you again guys for your time” the lady said to the pair shaking their hands (a/n: ok let's pretend there is no corona in this world so yeah. Everyone is healthy and so is the world!). The two replied with a simple you’re welcome and another thanks in return.

“Wait, have you really read fanfiction before?” Sebastian asked his co-star as the pair walked towards their manager, who was waiting for them outside the room, getting their schedule for the pair’s next interview.

“I mean yeah. I got curious on what people were writing about us and our characters.” Anthony responded with a shrug looking down at his phone.

“Aren’t most of those like fifty shades of grey?” Sebastian asked, staring at his friend as stood near their manager.

“Only if you want them to be..” Mackie stared at his friend with a blank face as they came to an abrupt stop. “Nah man, I’m just playing. Some of them are steamy, others can be sad, like crazy sad and some are like tooth rotting cute. Like I recently read one that was with Captain America and this original character that the author came up with and it made me say ‘aww’ when I finished it. Me. A grown man said ‘aww’ after reading a fanfic. A FANFIC!” he added. Their manager quickly explained their schedule and walked them over to their car to head off to the next location. The two were seated at the back, while their manager sat next to the driver.

“You know what. Send me that story you read.” Sebastian said to Anthony.

“Are you sure Seb?” Anthony asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah, why not.” he replied with a shrug. “Might as well read a good story before our next interview.”

“Alright let me send it to you right now. Honestly I think this writer is one of my favorites. I don’t know if it's her writing style or how she portrays our characters, but she’s amazing.” Mackie said with a smile getting the fic he recently read and sending it to his friend. 

“So all her stories are good?” Sebastian asked, looking at the notification.

“I just said that she is my favorite writer.” Anthony looked at his friend with a ‘are you serious face.’ 

“Okay. Okay.” Seb said with his arms up in defense. After a few minutes of reading the fanfic Sebastian actually said ‘aww’ aloud just like Mackie after he first read the story.

“It was good wasn’t it.” Anthony asked with a toothy grin.

“Yeah this was really good. Y/B/N is a pretty good writer.” Sebastian said looking through your feed.

“You should tell her!” Anthony exclaimed.

“What, like make an account?” Seb asked.

“Well yeah, but I mean not your actual name of course. Make a fan account. Show these writers your appreciation, I know that if I were an author I would love that (a/n: wink wink). I’ve messaged a few writers complimenting their work without actually telling them who I am.” Anthony said, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna read more stuff from her before I message her.” Sebastian chuckled. Sebastian clicked onto your main blog page to find that you had just posted a new fic about him. “Wait, dude she just posted a new story...About me!” Sebastian exclaimed, showing his phone to Anthony. 

“Nice, but we have to finish these interviews. You gotta read it during your free time man, sorry to crush your dreams.” he chuckled, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the car. Sebastian sighed and followed his co-stars actions getting out of the car and continuing the rest of his day filled with interviews.

*later that evening*

After the interviews Anthony and Sebastian had dinner together at a fancy restaurant. During their dinner they talked about how crazy some interviews were. Sebastian brought up the subject of how Mackie publicly announced that he had read fanfiction. With that still stuck in his mind the two finished their meal and after parting ways. Sebastian took a cab and arrived at his apartment, changed out of his fancy suit to some comfy clothes and grabbed a bottle of water from his fridge. He walked over to his couch turning on the tv, not really paying attention to what was playing, grabbing his phone he opened the tumblr app finally creating an account.

*one week later*

Sebastian has read almost all of your works and texting Anthony almost every time after he has finished a new fic giving his reactions to each. He has liked and reblogged everything he has read from you and other writers, but he favors your stuff the most.

Mackie: dude you should tell her you like her stuff and stop texting me!

Seb: Alright I will, I just don't know what to say.

Mackie: Just say you like her work. It's as simple as that.

Seb: okay okay I will

Mackie: ok good, no stop texting my its legit 2 am

Seb: fine

Sebastian opened up the messaging area of the app and began typing away his appreciation to you. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous after he pressed send. Getting out of the app completely he tried to focus on whatever was playing on the tv. Then all of a sudden he heard a notification go off and his phone light up. Looking down on it he saw that it was a notification from you. Again his nervousness took place as he unlocked his phone to read the notification. The app opened and the direct message filled his phone screen.

(a/n: this is my first time using a fake dm thingy so just imagine that Seb is following you)

Seb: Holy shit dude, she actually replied back to me!

Mackie: Well of course she did, she's not a robot. But maybe she is since she’s up so late...

Seb: shut up and why are you still up? I though you were mad at me for texting you

Mackie: well you woke me up so what am i supposed to do

Seb: whatever I’ll let you go

Mackie: alright. bye lover boy 

Sebastian shook his head at the text, he went back to the app to reply back to you. “What should I say?” he said to himself. “Maybe she’s in a different time zone or lives across the world or something… Okay okay. Maybe be chill and say I hope i didn’t wake you? No that sounds weird.” he shook his head trying to come up with something to say. Eventually he fell asleep trying to think of what to say to you.

*the next morning/later that day*

Sebastian woke up with his phone gone from his hand. He quickly got out of his bed in panic to look for it. Maybe you had said something to him or he had said something dumb to you. Once he found his phone he quickly unlocked it to check and thank god he didn’t say anything stupid. But he didn’t say anything. He shook his head clearing his thoughts. “Alright I think I know what to say.”

Y/N’s POV

You woke up to the sound of cars honking, groaning you looked at your clock. “How is it already 10 am?” you said aloud to nobody in particular. You sat up on your bed and grabbed your phone scrolling through various social media apps. At the top of your screen you saw a notification from tumblr. Opening the app to the notifications section, you noticed it was a blog that had messaged you from earlier in the morning.

sebstan_fan: Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Carter. I don’t know where you live, but I just woke up and had a dream about one of your fics. (wow I hope that didn’t sound creepy)

You smiled at the message, since you loved interacting with your followers.

y/b/n: haha its ok. I actually live near New York City and I also woke up. What was your dream about? (if i can ask)

Sebastian’s POV

Sebastian had just finished taking a shower and began preparing his late breakfast. “Holy shit she replied again!” he said to himself looking at the message.

sebstan_fan: Wait, you live near NYC! Me too! Wow such a small world. But anyways my dream was honestly just a reenactment of your fic.

y/b/n: that’s so crazy how we live near each other lol. But that's so cool how you dreamt about my work. You must have really liked it.

sebstan_fan: yeah it was really interesting how you wrote such a life like scenario.

y/b/n: thank you Carter <3

sebstan_fan: ok I now this is random, but what’s your favorite place to eat in New York?

y/b/n: ooh that’s tough. Let’s go with Lombardi’s since its the very first pizza place to open in the US

sebstan_fan: oh wow an excellent choice :)

*a couple weeks later*

You and your new tumblr friend have been talking about one another’s favorite hobbies and interests for the past few weeks. You feel like you have grown a new connection with your new friend and telling them about your shitty days at work. Today your best friend wanted to bring you with her and her boyfriend to some fancy restaurant. 

y/b/n: Carter, I’m practically third wheeling with her and her boyfriend. 

sebstan_fan: well that sounds awful. Where is she taking you?

y/b/n: idk to some fancy restaurant I’ve never heard of. Anyways she’s making me wear fancy clothes, but I just wanna wear my pajamas!

sebstan_fan: y/n come on. you gotta dress nice if other people are dressing nice too 

y/b/n: ughh ok I think I found something nice. *sends picture of yourself in an elegant dress* what about this?

Seb’s POV

Sebastian got a glass of water and sat back down on his couch. Unlocking his phone to see the new dm from you he spit his water out of his mouth wetting the coffee table in front of him. “HOLY SHIT SHE’S GORGEOUS!” he yelled aloud staring at his phone in awe of your beauty.

sebstan_fan: Y/N, you look amazing! That dress is literally making you glow!

y/b/n: stop you’re making me blush..my friend just pulled up. I’ll dm you later once this stupid night is over. 

sebstan_fan: alright have fun 

y/b/n: <3

Sebastian quickly called Mackie to tell him that you sent him a photo of yourself. 

“Dude, she is unbelievably gorgeous. I actually spit my water out all over my coffee table when I saw the picture. ” Sebastian said on the phone.

“Man you are so obsessed with her, it's kinda creepy.” Anthony replied through the phone.

“What? No man, we just clicked. We have a bunch in common and she’s really easy to talk to.” Sebastian gushed to his friend.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that you’re lying to her about your real identity. You’re like fucking Superman with a secret persona!” Anthony snickered at the man on the other line.

“Dude no, but I’ll tell her eventually that I’m me.” Seb replied back to Anthony.

“Well you better do it soon because I’m tired of hearing about you gushing over this woman.” Anthony huffed under his breath. ���Anyways I gotta go so bye bitch.” 

Sebastian laughed at his friend hanging up the phone and heading to his room getting ready for bed. As he laid on his bed he couldn’t take his mind off of you in that dress. You were so open with sharing your life to him, a complete stranger, yet he couldn’t do the same.

*the next day*

y/b/n: Carter! I forgot to dm you once I got home, but that dinner was terrible. I hated every minute of it.

sebstan_fan: what happened? Also good morning :)

y/b/n: good morning, sorry if I woke you. But anyways my best friend and her boyfriend brought some dude to make it a double date and the guy was a complete douche. I couldn’t stand a minute being there.

sebstan_fan: damn I’m sorry to hear that. I bet if I was there with you the night wouldn’t have been so bad haha

y/b/n: creepy..jk But I bet we would have completely ditched my friend and her boyfriend lol

sebstan_fan: wait, I got an idea! I mean since we live around the same area why don’t we meet!

y/b/n: what like in person?

sebstan_fan: no through zoom, yes in person!

y/b/n: wow the sarcasm in this one, but that sounds like a lovely idea. I feel like I already know so much about you tho...

Sebastian huffed under his breath, “not everything.”

sebstan_fan: lol yeah but it’ll be different to meet in person. Anyways where should we meet?

y/b/n: lol that’s true. Well I know this small cafe that’s so cute and I heard they have pretty good pastries. It would be awesome to meet there :D

sebstan_fan: alright how about Saturday afternoon? You don’t have work right?

y/b/n: nope I’m off! but that sounds good to me! I’m so excited and nervous at the same time. Like what if you’re some creepy stalker...

Sebstan_fan: why would you accuse me of such a thing?!

y/b/n: lol you know i’m just messing with you. But I gotta go my friend is now calling me, probably about that douche from last night...but I can’t wait to see you Carter!<3

“Yeah, me too.” Sebastian said to himself smiling.

*Saturday*

You sat at the cafe where you told your new tumblr friend to meet you. You ordered a drink and once it was finished, you grabbed it and sat near the windows saving a seat for Carter. As you waited you pulled out your laptop and began on typing away a new fic idea drawing inspiration from the small cafe and the gloomy weather outside. 

“I’m sorry that seat’s taken...” you muttered to a man who pulled out the chain next to you, looking up at the figure. “Holy shit!” you exclaimed to the man who sat next to you.

“Shhhh...Please don’t say anything.” Sebastian whispered to you, sitting on the chair next to you and taking off his sunglasses.

“What? But how? You’re!? I can’t breathe.” you exclaimed erratically looking down at your drink.

“Hey, hey Y/N, just calm down and take slow deep breaths.” he said calmly placing his hand on your back.

“How the fuck do you know my name?!” you exclaimed again staring wide eyed at the actor. “Am I getting pranked or something? Where are the cameras?!” you nervously laughed looking around the empty cafe.

“No, you’re not getting pranked. It’s me Carter…” he said quietly rubbing the back of his head.

“You’re Carter?! I thought you were a girl!” you said looking into the man’s blue eyes.

“I may have lied about who I was, but I wanted to meet you.” he started as he stared down at the ground. “I didn’t want you to freak out knowing that it was actually me.” he said looking back up at you.

“Let me just gather my thoughts for a sec.” you said, putting your hand to your temples.

“Wait, why did you assume I was a girl?” he asked with a smirk.

“I don’t know! Carter is a unisex name.” you frantically said with a shrug. “And I mean most of my followers are female, so I just assumed you were one too.” you added grabbing your drink and taking a sip to calm your nerves.

“That makes sense I guess.” he said chuckling, looking out the big window of the cafe.

“This is so crazy that you are here. Sitting next to me and talking about my stupid tumblr blog.” you uttered. “Like you’re famous!”

“Yeah so what.” he looked back to you. 

“I mean aren’t you busy filming and stuff?” you asked the man.

“Nope, we just wrapped up the interviews a couple of weeks ago. I’m on vacation.” he said with a toothy grin, which made you blush. “Aww look she’s blushing.” he said sweetly towards you.

“Shut up. It’s not like I get to meet my favorite actor who I’ve had a crush on since forever sitting next to me and casually conversing with.” you muttered quickly hoping he didn’t hear your profession of love for him.

“You got a crush on me?” he smiled at you.

“Fuck you. I do not!” you exclaimed looking away from him.

“Aww I think you do.” he said, nudging your shoulder.

“Whatever.” you said under your breath trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Hey, I’m in awe too.” he began, which made you look at him. “It’s not like I get to see a beautiful woman who I like.” he smirked at you.

“I think I’m dreaming. Did you just say you like me?!” you asked pinching yourself back into reality.

“I mean yeah. I really like your work as a writer and the past what month we’ve been talking I think you’re a really cool and sweet person.” he said now blushing. 

“I bet you say that to all the women you meet.” scoffing at his comment.

“No I’m serious Y/N. I think you’re a really talented writer. And I think you’re also really pretty.” again blushing, but this time he looked straight at you.

“Oh, wow. Thank you so much Sebastian.” you hesitated, your cheeks heating up. “That means a lot coming from you.” you smiled.

“Of course. And also I wanted to ask you in person if after coming clear about who I actually am, if you wanted to go out sometime. I know its weird and all sudden but-”

“Yes!” you exclaimed quickly cutting him off. “I mean. I would love to.” you said more calmly. “God, I’m trying so hard to keep my inner fangirl in.” you huffed under your breath. 

Sebastian laughed at your comment and then asked, “Alright then. What about tomorrow I take you out for dinner?” 

“That sounds delightful.” you smiled at the man. The two of you fell silent watching the people who passed by the small cafe.

“Oh, but can I ask you one more question? Why are you wearing a hat? And shades earlier? It's legit rainy and cloudy as hell outside.” you asked, looking at the man with your head resting on your hand.

“I’m going incognito. I don’t want my fans to recognize me.” he replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Are you embarrassed of them seeing you with me?” you hesitantly interrogated.

“No, I just don't want them to interrupt our first date.” he responded with a smirk looking at you.

“Wait, this is a date?!” you exclaimed with wide eyes.

“Only if you want it to be sweetheart.” Sebastian smirked, winking towards you.

“Fuck you.” You said with a smile.

A/N: Yay you finished! Was that good? bad? cheesy? lemme know lol Again if you wanna be tagged in future fics, have any requests or just wanna chat hit me up! Thank you guys for reading and I hope you get excited for more stuff to come.

Tags: @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @sebtheromanianprince​ @aquabrie @who-the-hell-is-sebastianstan​ @princess76179​ @anbrax5553​ @wintersoldierissucharide @caplanbuckybarnes​ @miraclesoflove​ @kitkatd7 @msgreenverse @saiyanprincessswanie​ @fandomsandxfiles @hailmary-yramliah @coffeebooksandfandom​ @thefallenbibliophilequote

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