#anxiety is trying to ruin this upcoming week for me but I won’t let it :) (possible lie)

[crybaby-bkg]

my birthday is in a week and I’m sooo excited to get pampered and dolled up in the next few days ^_^

[wutheringmights]

Anyone ask for the commentary yet for the latest chapter >:3 *dies*

You’d be the first!

So this chapter is cursed. Let’s talk about that first. 

You probably noticed that my writing output has been in the gutter this year. I have not written half as much as I should have. There are two main reasons why. The first is that I finally decided to get off my ass and have a more enriching personal life. This means a lot more of my evenings and weekends have been spent exploring other hobbies or taking weekend trips. I don’t regret any of those, and they have really improved my life overall (but I do write more when I am a sad little shut-in).

The second, more pressing reason was that there was a very important wedding I was the maid of honor for. That means I have spent a lot of my free time this year planning a bachelorette, a bridal shower, and helping with general wedding prep. I honestly was not nearly as busy as an expert maid of honor would have been, but all of this took up so much of my brain space that I was having trouble being creative. Multiple times, I would go to a coffee shop with plans to write, only to spend the entire time stressing about buying a new dress or researching hotels. 

I did not realize how stressed I was about this whole thing until literally this week. The wedding is over now, and I am already biting huge chunks into the upcoming chapter. I just have so much more brain space to write. I feel free. 

All that’s to say that this chapter was primarily written the month leading up to the wedding, and my head was Not There. I was struggling to figure the chapter out, and that struggle is reflected in the quality of the prose. For that, I apologize, as inevitable as it was. 

I won’t make any major revision to this chapter, but I have plans to redo my proof-reading. There is an egregious number of typos in this chapter, more than I consider acceptable for a one person team of me. 

(That being said, my typos have gotten worse this past year; ever since AI was integrated into Grammarly and Google Docs, both have been godawful for helping me fix errors. I appreciate how lenient you all have been with my most blatant mistakes.) 

Now that all of that is established, let’s talk about this chapter.

This introduction to Proxi is really, really bad. I am frankly a little embarrassed that I went ahead and published it. While I had a vision for the first few scenes of Link trying to help Proxi and Jakucho’s aid afterwards, I didn’t realize until the day of writing that I actually had 0 plans for how Warriors and Proxi’s first conversation would go. 

I am not even joking. I have a bunch of plans for their interactions together afterwards (which will appear next chapter). But their first conversation once Proxi started to get better? None. 

So what little they talked together here feels like a waste of space. What’s worse, I don’t even know what I would change the dialogue to in order to fix it. My brain is blank. I don’t know.  It’ll probably hit me in a few weeks. This is the trouble with publishing what is essentially the first draft of a story. If my initial ideas are solid, it’s great. But when my brain farts, I’m screwed.

That being said, my favorite part of the past section is that first half where Link frets over how to help Proxi, as well as Jakucho’s speech about the fairies disappearing. 

I have been trying to subtly establish this era of Hyrule as being one that is shocking devoid of magic; having Jakucho mourn the loss of fairies and what omen that could mean feels like I am ruining things. Nonetheless, I just really like the idea of Jakucho having this small moment of wonder over seeing a fairy, as well as her verbalizing these fears that darker times are ahead. 

I think I just enjoy reading about older people having the same anxieties about the world as younger people. It’s more comforting to me than an all-knowing mentor. 

So this chapter has a lot of random names splattered all over the place. Me being me, I stole some of the names from other media and such I enjoy. I’ll point out any fun connections as I find them. 

So for Proxi’s list of names for Link, there’s two of note. The first is Grimshaw, which is the name of the male lead from Lightlark. Despite how much I talk about Fourth Wing on this blog, Lightlark is the bad book I am truly passionate about. 

The second is Wen-li, which is for Yang Wen-li from Legend of the Galactic Heroes. He’s the character of all time for me, and I will go insane if I think about him for too long.

This Proxi section was supposed to go on a little longer, but by the time it came to write it, I was 100% over this chapter. Luckily, next chapter will be a fresh slate and I can finally deliver on all my promises about Proxi’s return. 

I cannot emphasize enough how frustrating it is to know that I fucked up an important character’s return. It’s... sigh. C’est la vie. Whatever. 

Onto the present day:

So I have a particular problem with the present day section. The last chapter, this chapter, and the one I am writing now are all the same plot point in my outline. I severely underestimated how long the lead up to a Very Important Event was going to be. No doubt, I have probably made similar mistakes before. But I am trying to finish this story, so any time I have to draw out the pacing, I die a little on the inside.

I think I initially planned to just skim over how Warriors got to the castle, but then I realized that this was the politics stuff that is the supposed bread and butter of the story. But the reason why I wanted to skim over everything was (as Legend pointed out) fucking networking.

What’s worse, I got to this chapter and realized that, realistically, Warriors should have to spend at least a few months building up a cult of personality. This should be a (purposeful) multi-chapter arc. I don’t want to do that, so I tried to really emphasize how much Warriors was using his reputation as the hero and legends surrounding it to his advantage. Does it still feel unrealistic? Yeah, but we’re just going to have to cope with it. 

Sevas is named for the male lead in Ava Reid’s Juniper & Thorn, which was sitting on my desk when I realized the priest needed a name. 

Colonel Remarque is named for Erich Remarque, author of All Quiet On the Western Front. I think I had made a post name-dropping him around the time I got to this character.

Matthew Thorn... again, Thorn is for Reid’s book. Matthew was just the most bland name I could think of. 

Vlad Dubarry... so I was watching both Castlevania and Rose of Versailles and took the first and surname from both respectively. 

Between the conversation with the priest, the provost office, and Remarque, I was trying to give out a few more details every time to paint a clear picture without boring the reader by reiterating information over and over again. Unfortunately, I still managed to write three pretty boring scenes. 

That being said, I think the friction Remarque offered was interesting to write, even if I had to resist pointing out every single plot hole during it. 

So everything from the castle to Spirit being poisoned took me the longest to write. I knew it was boring, but I could not figure out a way to make it more exciting without omitting the networking stuff entirely. I didn’t really hit a stride with this chapter until I got to Spirit being poisoned. 

The entire time Spirit was being poisoned, I was rubbing my hands together maniacally. I have been searching for a good moment to have a true poisoning in this story and I finally got it. 

Also, I think if this chapter was of higher quality, someone out there would have realized that, for purely medical reasons, Hyrule had to technically give Spirit and smooch on the lips. There should be at least two very silly memes about this. But, alas. The quality.

You can tell I ran into the realization that, realistically, the Royal Guard’s structure would be more complex than I have alluded to previously. Very importantly, you can tell I realized that I should have mentioned the King’s Guard sooner if they were really going to be this powerful subsection of the Royal Guard.

I actually like how the idea that the King’s Guard is only super powerful in matters relating to the king, aka: Castle Town, and is pretty insignificant otherwise. The bureaucratic bullshit that must cause feels very real. But you can tell that I have no idea what rank that would make Endicott. I have been bending over backwards to not state that man’s ranking. 

That being said, his absence from Warriors’s social circle until now is kinda important. Put a pin in that. It will come back.

Also, Endicott is a name I stole from Over the Garden Wall. I picked it because it sounds like the name of someone important. I picked Roald at randomed.

I am really happy that a lot of you have been enjoying the growing distrust the Chain has for Spirit. Insert rant about how victims have to remain palatable in order to be emphasized with, and how tragic it is that the only person who seems to understand that is the person who traumatized him in the first place. 

I feel like I have been fumbling Time’s character a bit, and his conversation at the floor of Spirit’s bed is me finally getting back on track with him. I enjoyed writing that so much, from him trying to fold the scarf to him being upset that no one has learned their lesson yet, all while still not learning a lesson himself. 

There was going to be a comment somewhere that Spirit is in such bad shape in part because his lungs are weak from all that smoking he does, but I honestly don’t know if anyone but Spirit would make that connection. 

I also need to put Legend and Midna together more. They can be so snarky, and I want them to keep a running commentary of Warriors and Spirit’s bullshit like they are two sports announcers watching a football game.

I first imagined Spirit and Warriors’s conversation taking place on the parapet, and came to the same realization about the ladders that Spirit had. I’m glad I put them by the moat, though. The bit about the smell is probably my favorite bit of prose in the chapter. 

I also really like this conversation between Spirit and Warriors. It’s not as insanity inducing as their past bullshit has been, but it hits a few notes. I like Warriors showing off how much he understands Spirit’s abilities (via the jacket), as well as Spirit’s utter disbelief that Warriors is capable of caring for anyone but himself. 

I was also trying really hard to put more of their bullshit into subtext. I have a bad habit of having characters just state what they are feeling out loud, so I am trying to write more coded dialogue. It’s never just about a toaster, etc. 

Warriors was also having such a night of self-discovery. First he had a little moment to freak out about how much his sincere attempts to help sound like manipulation. Then he realized that he would probably never be fully exonerated from his past. Big night for him.

Being unable to fully fix your past is part of the reason why I buffer against the idea of Warriors having a redemption arc. That implies a certain amount of undoing that is just not possible. I don’t know if I am putting that well. However, I am concerned that I am letting my Catholic upbringing color my perspective.

That being said, if Catholicism was a thing in Hyrule, Warriors would be that and be plagued by Catholic Guilt

He’s Catholic coded.

Irish Catholic, to be specific. There’s a difference. 

Anyway, Four. When Four showed up, I was going to have this bit of dialogue where Spirit would allude to knowing about Vio (and therefore, Four) having a relationship with Shadow. It would have been nestled in a larger, coded bit of dialogue where Four would obliquely imply that he was starting to suspect what the Hot Mess is. I cut it because A) Spirit is so socially inept that he cannot do subtly like that, and B) Spirit’s spirit senses would not give him the ability to know about Shadow. 

I also did not want to commit to Four figuring it out first, if at all. 

I have so many ideas about what Warriors the Symbol means to the people of Castle Town that I will hopefully be able to elaborate on in this upcoming chapter.

Realistically, Hyrule Castle should probably be more like a fortress. But again, I have been watching The Rose of Versailles, and I just really liked the idea of the castle being this symbol of opulence during a time of poor economics. The people are struggling but the nobles are thriving, babes. 

Also, Endicott is so much fun to write. He’s like the true antagonistic version of Lincoln. That man was enjoying making Warriors squirm, and I was having a blast writing it. The sexual favors line? I was utterly delighted. 

Realistically, Endicott probably could have been replaced with Whitestone. However, Whitestone is still on the front and I don’t regret putting him there to be Wind’s superior during his short stint as a soldier. (Even if I still think I could have cut out Whitestone in favor of giving Impa more to do.)

I also feel bad for killing Meemaw off so suddenly, but I was enchanted by the idea of her name having to be crossed off because the death was that  recent. 

I also was going to have Endicott spare Warriors for unknown reasons, with the reveal that Ganondorf had been bribing him coming later in the story, However, I was so worried about this seeming too-easy for Warriors that I decided to reveal that detail early. 

Okay, King of Hyrule stuff.

I’m trying to play at this idea of Zelda’s reputation not matching her actual role. Earlier in the story, Warriors describes her as a socialite with no political sense, and Zelda derisively thinks that of herself as well. Then that bit about her being the face of the kingdom is supposed to contradict that perception. She can’t just be a socialite if she had been the mouthpiece of the king since she was a child. 

There’s supposed to be multiple mistakes going on here: Warriors assuming the worst of Zelda, a sexist perception of Zelda by society as a whole, and Zelda feeling worthless because she knows she’s just a symbol. Not sure if I conveyed any of that well. 

Reuenthal’s dementia was caused in part by a stroke, but he also has a condition called prosopometamorphopsia, which is a form of face blindness where faces become distorted the longer you look at them. 

Fun fact is that I generally knew that there was some kind of condition that had made Reuenthal isolate from other people, but I did not pick prosopometamorphopsia until I read this article from the New Yorker. I won’t go as far as to say that I wrote an accurate version of the disorder; I definitely played up the emotional distress it causes for dramatic effect. That is probably problematic, so please do not trust this story as a definitive source on it. 

This also went unsaid in the story, but I imagine that because every daughter in the royal family is named Zelda, they probably go more by their middle names. I almost named dropped one of her sisters as Zelda Artemis, just to be mean.

The last line “A week later, everything went to hell” is, admittedly, very silly. I had a whole section describing what that meant written, but it seriously sucked. I am in the process of rewriting it now, and it’s already so much better. Plus, now that I have another chapter to hit these plot points, I can explore a more daring version of my original idea. Very excited for it. 

That being said, I would 100% cut off that last line and probably improve the chapter by 3%.

And that’s the chapter! Again, I am so sorry that it was such substandard quality. I promise that the next chapter will be better. 

In other news, can I get your opinion on something. Ever since polls came out, I have wanted to do a little census poll on how many people know about CTB, read it, or choose to read it. Just to gage how big the actual audience is. 

On one hand, I think it would be interesting. On the other, it’s a practice in vanity that is very antithetical to how hard I try to be nonchalant about everything. I don’t know. Let me know what you think. 

[greenstudies]

How to survive finals

I just finished my first college finals and let me tell you I didn’t have a good time. I did learn a few valuable lessons in my suffering and so here I come sharing them with you so you don’t need to learn stuff the hard way.

Passing your finals isn’t worth sacrificing your health -You may get carried away with anxiety and just go down the wrong path. You stop taking care of yourself, you promise yourself that the next study session will have breaks and you will take better care of youself next time. NO! You will take care of yourself now! You need to make your health a priority. Always. Bad health will ruin your life and might make your studies so much more difficult in the future. Keep yourself healthy and sane

Breaks aren’t negotiable -It might seem like you’ll get more done without breaks but you’re wrong (and you know it too). Your brain will not accept the information you give to it and all the time invested will not be worth it. With breaks you spend less time studying while learning more!

Start early -This one is more difficult than it seems and for some people it might be impossible. But if you can, it’ll really help to get a head start. You might simply start a week early or study through the semester. Not seeing the materials for the first time before the exams helps significantly!

Keep your notes and materials somewhat organised -By the end of the finals month, I was drowning in disorganised papers, not being able to figure out where all my materials are. All my notes were useless because I just didn’t know where they are. It sounds funny now but it wasn’t funny then... Try to keep all your materials in folders at least.

Don’t add too much to your to do list -Try to figure out how much you can actually get done in a day and then stick to that amount no matter how much work you have overall. You won’t be able to do insane amounts of work in a day and long ass to do list will only stress you out.

Reward yourself at the end of every intense study session -Working with no rewards will get way more exhausting way quicker. I recommend some fun activity as the best reward. I like to make time to play video games or watch something after every intense day

Move your body -I don’t know how to make you understand that this one is one of the most important tips I can give you. PLEASE DO NOT NEGLECT YOUR BODY! Exam time at my college is over a month long and that really took a toll on my body. Make sure to walk, work out and stretch at least multiple times a week.

You need to sleep enough -If the importance of resting isn’t enough for you as a reason on its own, then I have another: sleep is when your memory saves the information. If you don’t sleep well, you won’t remember what you learnt as well and you’ll need to study longer

Stay social -Loneliness is a bitch and it’ll make you feel more stressed than you need to be. Also seeing others struggle in the same way you do can be quite calming and bonding experince. You’re not alone in this and you have to remind yourself.

Get as much help as you can -You don’t have to do things alone. I’m someone who’s afraid to ask for help and I pay for this flaw every damn time. Help people out and ask for help back. They won’t mind helping.

Keep your space clean -Cluttered or dirty space will add to your stress. Take the time to keep your surroundings pleasant to be in.

You can’t learn it all and it’s normal -Make conscious choices when it comes to the work you’re doing. You can’t learn and remember everything so choose what you study carefully. You’ll end up learning better the important stuff instead of memorising meaningless details.

I wish you all the best in the upcoming exam time and have a nice day! If you have any extra tips I didn’t mention, feel free to add on and help others out.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 16: Tulips

With the possible exception of all of the eighth years getting along and actually becoming friends, regardless of their former rivalries, the first half of Draco's eighth year at Hogwarts was remarkably ordinary. Funny how it took a war to see that they were all just children and all being used as pawns in a bigger game.

There was also, for Draco, the realization that he had a bit of a crush on Potter. He found that he actually really enjoyed the other boy's company; he enjoyed his snarkiness and the way that Draco could see mischief in his eyes. He liked the way Potter listened, liked the way he always seemed to want to casually touch other people. He liked him, plain and simple.

But other than the unlikely truces turned friendships (and in the case of Potter, turned crush) nothing weird happened, no one tried to kill him (or other students), no prophecies were unveiled, there were no dementors, no psychopath teachers, nothing. It was almost enough to make Draco bored.

Almost.

There was nothing strange until one unassuming morning in March, when they were all sitting in the great Hall, eating breakfast, and quizzing each other for the upcoming test in Transfiguration.

Potter interrupted the heated debate that Draco was having with Granger with a blurted, "What the fuck?"

Everyone looked over at him, including Hermione and Draco, to see what had happened.

"There's a tulip in my coffee cup!" the other boy said.

"So there is," Draco replied in amusement.

Everyone chuckled and Potter tried to figure out who had put the bright yellow tulip there but Draco really didn't have time to think about that because he and Hermione were back to arguing about Transfiguration theory.

He probably wouldn't have thought about it again but that evening as they got ready for bed, Draco felt a strange twinge in his magical core, like you got when you were preparing to cast a strong spell.

Before he could really dig into what had happened, Potter's bed curtains flew open, "Alright, you lot," he said, a laugh ruining the stern look he was attempting. "Who put this here?" he asked, holding out a red tulip that he'd apparently found on his pillow.

(Read more below the cut)

Each of them denied having any knowledge of how the tulip could have found its way into Potter's bed, but a bit of unease settled in Draco's stomach. Potter put the second tulip in with the first in the vase on the windowsill and laughed it off.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, there was a story he'd been told as a child. A story that he couldn't quite grasp but filled him with a bit of apprehension none the less.

Still, this was nothing like the sort of anxiety that Draco had been accustomed to forcing himself to sleep through for the past few years, so he put it from his mind and went to sleep.

And again, he might have been able to forget about it, if it weren't for the fact that the next morning he felt a tug at his magical core and then a few minutes later, Potter appeared with another tulip. White this time and he'd found it in the pocket of his robes. "Seriously, what the hell you guys?" he laughed.

Everyone else laughed too, but Draco frowned, the memory of the story niggling at the back of his mind once more, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He continued to try to remember throughout the rest of the week and Potter continued to get tulips. They showed up in his book bag, the showed up in place of his quills, they showed up on his plate at meals, they showed up everywhere and anywhere. One even replaced his loofa in the shower.

By the end of the week, Potter was getting a bit irritated and he'd had to enlarge the vase multiple times to fit all of the tulips. Draco wasn't sure why Potter hadn't just thrown them out, but it wasn't his place to say anything, certainly.

On Saturday, when everyone had gone off to Hogsmeade for the morning, Draco fire called his mother.

"Draco, darling," she said, smiling at him, "I'm so pleased to hear from you. How are you?"

He endured the predictable pleasantries before he said, "Listen, mother, the reason I called," he paused there because this was all a bit ridiculous. "Well, it sounds silly really, but there was a story you told me when I was little," he said. "Something about a wizard who had flowers appear out of nowhere? I can't remember it."

"Why?" she asked, her face serious. "Draco, why are you asking me about that story?"

"No reason," he said quickly. "It's just something that came into my head," he lied.

"Who's receiving tulips, Draco?"

"It's nothing!" he repeated. "And I never said there were any tulips."

"If I tell you the story, will you tell me the truth?"

Draco sighed but nodded.

"The story," she began, "was about your great, great, great uncle Silas. Silas was a difficult man, everyone always said so. He was haughty and rude; he was quite clever but not terribly gracious about it."

"Mother," he interrupted, his knees were growing cold and sore from kneeling on the common room floor, "could we just skip to the meat of the story."

"Yes, alright," she sighed. "Long story short, Silas fell in love with a muggleborn. His family obviously refused to let him get married, assuming that the love would fade eventually. There was an arranged marriage in there as well, but that's not really important. What is important, is that the person he fell in love with began to find tulips everywhere. Every time she went to pick up something, it turned into a tulip; at her home, her work, everywhere she went, tulips."

Draco felt something in the pit of his stomach drop. This couldn't be happening.

"He was pining for her, heartbroken that he couldn't be with her," she said. "Now, magic can't create something from nothing, so in each of the tulips was a little bit of Silas' magic."

"Like a horocrux?" he asked in horror.

"No, darling, nothing so sinister as that. But the flowers were slowly draining his magical core and he was growing steadily weaker." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "So, as the story goes, when he was so weak he could barely summon the strength to stand, he went to her to confess his love. What did it matter if he was going to die? When he told her of his love, she kissed him and his magic was restored. The family was convinced that it was true love and that the love that bound the two of them together was obviously stronger magic than that of blood status."

Draco rubbed a hand over his face, "So, this was a true story?"

"Yes, it's all rather well documented as it would have to be in the case of something like this." She gave him her most commanding look, "Now, I've held up my end of the bargain, so it's your turn. Tell me who's receiving tulips, Draco."

"Harry Potter," he whispered.

Her eyebrows rose, "You have to tell him, Draco."

"I can't!" he said, shaking his head, "You know I can't. He couldn't possibly feel the same way, he couldn't possibly love me, too-"

Something shattered behind him and he yanked his head back to see the boy in question standing there, bouquet of tulips in his hands. The vase had dropped and been smashed, water was soaking into Potter's socks but he didn't seem to notice.

Draco promptly ended the fire call with his mother and wondered if it would be possible to transfer to Beauxbatons to complete the year. It was either that or he should just go off to die.

"How much of that did you hear?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Most of it," Potter confessed with a little wince. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop but then I heard her talking about how everything in that girl's life became tulips and I knew you were talking about me. I didn't realize how the story would end," he hastened to add. "I just thought that she might know something about a curse or spell that had been cast on me."

Draco rubbed his forehead, "Look, could you just forget about the whole thing?"

"Forget about it?" Potter asked, sounding a little hysterical at this point. "Draco, it turned six quills into tulips in the past three days. Six!" he shook his head. "No, I can't forget about it and I certainly can't let you die."

Draco stood up and balled his hands into fists, "Always ready to play the hero aren't you?"

"What?" the other boy asked, obviously taken aback.

"Ready to play the martyr," he sneered. "Well I won't have it. I won't have you tying yourself to me just because you're afraid that I'll die if you don't return the sentiment."

"But I already do return the sentiment," Harry said, sounding bewildered. "Sorry, maybe I should have said so, but I thought that was obvious from the story."

"What?"

"Well, your mum said that it was true love's kiss that restored his magic, true love that made it possible for the flowers to appear in the first place. I just assumed it was obvious that I was in love with you, too."

"You are?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe that this was possible.

"Yeah," Harry replied with a little shrug. "I mean, I thought maybe it would have been good to start with a date or something," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "It's why I'm still here, I wanted to invite you to go to Hogsmeade with me."

"You did?"

Harry nodded again. "But I'm glad to kiss you, for the unselfish reason that it will restore your magic," he said, glancing down at the flowers in his hands before looking back up, "And for the selfish reason that I would really just like to kiss you."

"You would?" he asked.

Harry huffed at him, "Are you going to stop sounding like you doubt every word out of my mouth?"

"Sorry, it's just-" Draco started but then Potter was across the room, dropping the tulips as he cupped Draco's face in his hands and leaned in until they were a mere inch apart.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked softly, his eyes flickering between Draco's.

"Yes," Draco breathed.

Harry gave him a little grin and leaned in to kiss him, his soft, full lips, gently caressing Draco's, and Draco felt like his heart stopped beating for a moment before a surge of magic, and joy, and love came rushing in and filled him to bursting.

He wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and pulled him in closer and Harry hummed, molding his lips to Draco's for a moment before pulling back and resting their foreheads together.

"That was-" Draco started.

"Fantastic," Harry agreed. "Do you feel better? Not going to die on me or anything?"

Draco laughed and pinched his side, "I think we were a long way off from that."

"I don't know," Harry replied, tilting his head to press a kiss to the tip of Draco's nose. "There were an awful lot of tulips."

"Yes," Draco replied, pulling back to look at the tulips strewn about the floor, "And you've dropped them all on the ground. That's quite rude, you know."

Harry huffed at him, "Prat," he said fondly before drawing away to swish his wand and collect all of the tulips and put them back into the repaired vase. "So," Harry said, "I think tulips may be my new favorite flower."

"Mine, too," Draco replied with a smile.

And when they got married, two years later, there were tulips everywhere.

Day 15: Wings | Day 17: Salt

[youmarin]

Ch. 00 Pt. I : To-Not-Do-But-Actually-Do List | JJ Maybank × fem! reader

a/n : I wrote this between last night and this morning. It's not my first time writing fanfic but it is my first one of JJ Maybank. I always delete my works thinking they ain't good enough. Hopefully I won't delete it this time and when I get some breaks I can keep writing. Anyways to whoever stops and reads: Thank you very much and enjoy the story!

tw: underage drinking, smoking, slight mention of anxiety (it's barely there).

There's a small conversation in Spanish but I clarified what is being said.

word count: 3.0k+

You were studying for an upcoming test. It was Friday evening and you were sure nobody liked to study on Friday evenings just when the school week had come to an end. But you had nothing better to do. Well, you were invited to a kegger by your friends, which you were seriously considering going to since you already knew the material and didn’t know what to do now. But you were unsure about parties. One goes to have fun, right? But fun usually means getting drunk, high or hooking up. And you weren’t about to do any of them. But you figured it wouldn’t hurt to put in practice your socializing skills. 

You told your parents you were going out for the night. They looked at you oddly, but didn’t say anything, only wishing you had a good time, telling you to be safe and to call once you got there, once you were on your way back and if something came up. Of course, they also asked who you were gonna be with, where were you gonna be, if someone was going to pick you up, who would bring you home. The whole interrogation. 

After taking a shower and dressing up, you called your friends hoping someone could give you a ride. Luckily for you, your best friend hadn’t arrived yet and was close by. He was always late for everything so you kind of figured that’s how it would be. 

“Hey pretty lady.” , he smirked at you as you got on the bike behind him, arms around his torso, “What made you change your mind?”

“Got bored.”, you answered simply.

“That 's weird. You're not one to get bored. But guess we’re actually having fun tonight so let ‘s go!” he answered, hyped as ever, you chuckled as he drove off to the beach. 

You lost sight of him as soon as you stepped on the beach. And that's on having fun tonight together, huh. “So, now what?” You asked yourself looking around for some familiar faces. You managed to spot some of your friends among the crowd but they seemed to be having fun engaged in conversation and you didn’t want to burden them. Yeah you had just arrived and you already were starting to regret coming, and being surrounded by a squirming crowd, all dancing and moving around wasn’t helping. You made a haste turn and gasped when you felt something spill over your top.

“Oh dammit.” The boy cried over the spilled drinks. Some had gotten on his T-shirt too. “I mean shit, I’m sorry dude. It was kinda your fault too though.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile as you looked up. “Oh shit. Sorry Y/N.”

“You’re great with apologies, Maybank.” He smiled back, but he grimaced seeing your ruined shirt. You noticed and looked down, the thin fabric of your blouse letting into view your bra. You crossed your arms over your chest trying to make it better, looking up at him again and smiling awkwardly to try and hide your embarrassment. But he could make out your flushed cheeks and your discomfort. He felt his own cheeks get warmer at the fact you caught him staring and that you crossing your arms definitely didn’t help. 

“I try my best. Care for a drink?” He offered you the one cup that didn’t spill over you. You scrunched your nose and nodded your head hesitantly, reaching for it. “Actually, can you wait here for a sec.?” You nodded again and there he left you, looking around awkwardly waiting for him to get back. You looked at your drink, swirling the liquid in the cup, questioning if you should drink it. You had never drinked before. And you were alone, well, JJ was with you but you didn’t know if he was actually coming back or if he had just grabbed the opportunity to spare you from your embarrassment. You took a sip, making a face - there goes the no drinking thing you were talking about- and you saw JJ approach, eyes squinted looking for someone. He spotted you and smiled as he came to a stop in front of you, holding a drink and a sweatshirt. He offered the sweatshirt to you “Here.” 

“Oh, um, thanks.” He held your drink as you put his sweatshirt on. It was like two sizes bigger. You extended your arms making a silly pose and he approved, making you do a little spin. 

“Never seen you around one of these before. Didn’t think it was something you liked.” He started walking, you by his side.

“I actually don’t like it. You just bumped into me right when I started to panic about being here.” You said jokingly although it was actually the truth. JJ let out a laugh. “But I thought I might do something different tonight. Get out of the comfort zone, you know?”

“And how’s that going?” He questioned, you could see a smile hidden by the rim of his cup. You smiled.

“Not bad. I’m actually talking with someone, I had my first drink…” You said, and downed the last of said drink. “Not a fan of them to be honest.” you made a face and blinked a few times, not liking the taste. 

“No way.” He said incredulously. You nodded, letting out an affirmative sound. “ What would people think of me for corrupting Y/N Y/L/N?” 

“So bad of you.” you played along. “Nah, it’s just one drink. As long as you drink moderately it’s fine. Also I could’ve refused, so you’re not corrupting me.” You shrugged, then widened your eyes because of all your blabbering. “I went too deep on that joke. I'm sorry.” You smiled nervously, smoothing your hair. He just laughed.

“That ‘s fine. You have no idea how much shit I can talk.  My friends are shutting me up all the time. Wait- Not that you were talking shit- Oh God.” It was your turn to laugh about how conflicted he looked. He smiled and calmed down seeing that you didn’t take it wrong. 

There was a beat of silence before he spoke up again, “So… You wanna go somewhere more quiet?” The question caught you off guard. He sensed your hesitation and rushed to explain. “I mean, since you don’t really like parties. Thought you might want to head over to somewhere else? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. “ 

You nodded, “Wait, but what about you? I don’t wanna make you leave.” you worried

He brushed it off. “There’s always more of these.” 

So you both went further down the beach, the sounds from the party heard from a distance. You sat down and saw him take out something from his pockets. “Do you mind if I burn one?” You shook your head. He lighted it up and took a hit, slowly letting the smoke out after. You caught yourself staring, and he also caught you, showing you a smirk,  “You probably haven’t smoked before either, right?” He said mockingly. You pushed him jokingly, then overthinking about if you weren’t getting too confident around him. You hadn’t spoken more than a couple times before. 

“No, I haven’t.”

“Such a good girl.” he cooed, “I shouldn’t be the one to make you drink and smoke in the same night but, who’s better than me?” He offered you the blunt. 

“Yeah right.” you answered sarcastically, and once again hesitated but took it from his hand - there goes the “no smoking”. The same night, in less than an hour. You just need to hook up with someone and you shall check out your To-Not-Do-But-Do List-. You looked at it and proceeded to put it in your mouth. 

“Easy there.” He warned as you inhaled the smoke. You coughed it out, laughing as he caressed your back, trying to ease you. 

“Whoah.” you blinked a few times as you tried to get used to it. And that's how you spent the rest of the night there talking and smoking. Usually you had trouble making conversation but with the help of the alcohol and weed you were more easy going tonight, mostly talking nonsense and laughing at everything, which had JJ glancing at you with an amused smile. “Yeah, she definitely had never smoked before.”  He saw as you scrunched your nose, suddenly, and smelled his sweatshirt that you were wearing. “I smell like weed.”  You said, disgusted. Apparently, you forgot you were smoking. “And I’m wearing a boy’s sweatshirt.” Your eyes widened as you lifted your arms and looked at the sleeves of his sweatshirt as they dangled when you moved them around. “My parents are gonna kill me. Twice!” You cackled almost hysterically, which made JJ burst in laughter too at the sight of you. 

It was a little past midnight and after running out of energy, you had fallen asleep profoundly, leaning over JJ, your head resting on his shoulder. He didn't bother to wake you up at first, being very comfortable with how you two were. But then he almost fell asleep too and it was pretty late so he gently tried to shove you awake. “Y/N.” you grunted, and tried to ignore him. “Y/N we have to go. It 's late. Don’t wanna fall asleep here for some creep to come and kill us.” 

“You can fight them.” you mumbled. “You look like a very brave courageous prince.” 

“Do I now?” He looked at you, trying to hold back a smile. “Yeah this prince you’re talking about is lacking money. And sleep. So let 's go.” He helped you stand up. You made eye contact with him and your eyes widened. “What now?” he questioned, amused.

“Your eyes are very pretty.” 

“Oh you’re gonna make me blush. C’mon, I can give you a piggyback ride until we meet with John B.” In fact, he did blush a little by the intensity of your gaze. Not that you would notice being as you were right now. You fell asleep again almost immediately once on his back, your head resting on top of his. He almost dropped you when you got too relaxed and your grip around his shoulders got a little too loose. He hoped John B hadn’t left.  He didn't feel like walking all the way to the château. He figured you’ll stay with them. He didn't know where you lived and even if he did he wasn’t about to drop you off high out of your mind. 

“Hey, I was looking all over for you. Kie and Pope already left.” John B started as he looked at your sleeping figure being carried by his friend, his curious eyes making the question for him already but he spoke nevertheless, “You’ve been with her all this time?” 

“Yeah. She’s out like a light. And she doesn’t look like it but she’s starting to feel heavy so let’s get to the Twinkie. Also, have you seen my backpack? I thought I left it around here." He started to make his way to the van, John B keeping his pace.

“ Yeah, I grabbed it when I started looking around for you." He said before saying what he really wanted to say at that moment, "Listen, man, I know you… Are JJ, " He missed the puzzled look JJ was giving him, "Like the JJ Maybank. Big time player.  But Y/N. Out of all people? How did you even get with her? We actually know her and it would suck to hurt her feelings.”John B kept going, just astounded with how far JJ could go.

“We didn’t do anything of whatever you’re imagining.” JJ squinted his eyes at him. “I bumped into her and we stayed together after that, we chatted, drinked, smoked a little…”

“You let her smoke? Since when does she smoke?” 

“Since today man, I don’t know. And it’s not like I forced her to do it. She can make her own decisions. Also she was with me so it’s not like something would have happened to her.” John B raised a brow, “At least nothing that she didn't want.”  He opened the sliding door of the van. “Just help me out, dude. Geez, you’re supposed to be my best friend bro. Wouldn’t hurt to show a little trust.” 

“Precisely because I am your best friend is why I care about it.” He helped JJ get you inside of the van. 

“If someone was looking at us they would say we’re kidnapping her.” John B stated as he made his way to the driver’s seat and started the Twinkie. JJ took a seat, while you laid there sleeping, your head resting on his lap. He made sure you wouldn’t move and smack your face with the van or fall to the floor. When they arrived at the Château, they both helped you out of the van and got you inside the house. JJ went to bother a sleeping Kie, asking her to help you get changed out of your clothes, though he thought you looked cute with his sweatshirt on. 

_________________

You woke up, slightly disoriented but well rested. The smell of food reached your senses. Stretching, you looked around and saw you were sleeping next to Kiara Carrera. How the hell did you get there? 

“Goodmorning.” she said, startling you. 

“Good- Morning?” You stared at her. Kie saw the confusion in your expression and smiled. Teasing a little wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Did you enjoy last night?” Kie asked, and purposely got a bit closer, looking at your lips.

“What?”

“You don’t remember?” she clicked her tongue. “That’s a shame though.”

“What? No! No. I do remember.” Kie raised a brow, “ No, I was with JJ-” you stopped yourself, “Not! Not in a sexual way.” You rushed to explain. Sheepishly, fidgeting with your hands, you looked up at her again. “Did we really…” God,I thought I was straight. I mean, I am straight. Kie is really pretty though. God you just had sex for the first time and you don’t even remember,  you shook your head to stop the nonsense that were your thoughts at the moment.

At that point, Kiara couldn’t hold it anymore and started laughing at the conflict you were having in your head, your troubled state written all over your face.

“You two! Come and get breakfast before we eat all of it. And Kie, stop messing with Y/N.” You heard John B and JJ shout from the kitchen. You were really hungry, now that they mentioned food. And it smelled really nice earlier. You both got up and went to the dinner table, where you found JJ fixing up a plate for you. He motioned for you to sit. “Goodmorning.” He said, giving you a smile. “You good?” 

Nervously, you greeted him back, nodding. You probably made some trouble for them last night, especially for JJ. You all sat at the table, chatting and recalling stuff from last night. Guess you still were straight, and didn’t hook up with Kie. She was just taking advantage of you not being able to process anything too well before eleven in the morning and making fun of you. You were enjoying yourself but, 

“I should be going home.” you said, excusing yourself.

“I can go with you. Also, your phone went off a few times this morning while you were sleeping.” JJ mentioned casually as he stood up after you. 

“You don’t have to do that.” You told him but he brushed you off, saying it was no problem.  “Oh my God, my phone! I mean, my parents! They’re totally gonna kill me!” The other two held their laughter towards your distressed face and JJ grimaced as he motioned for you to follow him and you went to the room he always stayed in. He gestured towards your clothes and your phone. He had washed your clothes earlier after he woke up. When you looked at your phone’s screen, you saw all the missed calls you had from your mom, your dad, even your brother. Your stomach dropped. 

“You didn’t tell them you were going out?” JJ asked. 

“I did! I just never said I was going to stay at someone else’s place!” As if on cue, your phone went off again. You both looked at each other and you answered, already grimacing at what was coming.

“Hey ma’.” 

JJ frowned, your voice sounded different for a moment. Then he heard a loud voice from the other end of the call, most likely your mom’s. He couldn’t make out what she was saying because it was in Spanish? and she was talking way too fast in a hysterical tone. He looked curiously as he heard you both.

“¡No! Mami estoy bien. Es que se hizo tarde y me quedé en casa de Kiara.” You lied, saying you stayed over at Kie’s as your mom asked you who the hell was Kiara. “Una amiga, ma. Perdón que no dije nada. Ya voy para allá. Sí, sí, bye.”  You sighed. “I’m grounded.” you fake smiled and looked over at JJ. He gave you an apologetic look. “Well I don’t really go out much.” You laughed nervously. “I should go. I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused you guys.” 

“Yeah, yeah, no I mean, not at all.”  JJ answered awkwardly, a hand brushing his hair back  as he smiled at you nervously. 

They let you take a shower and change back to your clothes before making your way out. You thanked them, and both you and JJ made your way out of the château and back to your house. You decided to walk, since it wasn’t too far. You stopped a couple houses before yours, telling JJ that going back after staying out the night without telling anybody and coming back home with a boy was just you asking to get yourself killed. He laughed, telling you that he understood. 

“I have no problem introducing myself to them. Since I am indeed very brave and courageous and all.” He teased, trying to see if you remembered what you said to him last night. You did remember, but did your best to play it off as if you didn’t, feeling kinda embarrassed. He laughed it off when you looked at him as if you didn’t know what he was talking about, a little hurt but he wouldn't make a big deal about it. You were high as a kite anyways. “Forget it.” he finished with a sigh. “See you around?” He asked, hopeful

“Sure. See ya around.” You gave him a hug, then started to make the rest of your way back to your house. You turned to look at him once more and gave him a smile and a small wave. He smiled and waved back. It would be hard to take that smile off his face for the rest of the day. 

[fandomscombine]

Heartbreak Woman [Cho/Cedric Ending]

Warning: Angst! Brokenhearted!Reader

WC:1454

I proposed 3 varying endings and the response was across the board so I decided why the heck not write ALL 3 choices!

a/n: I haven't been active on tumblr this past month. Motivation to read & write wasn't really there. Feelin pretty crap. I don't think it's my best work- I actually wrote this ending last month but delay posting it since I promised to post all 3 endings back to back- but with the recent burnout, my progress is slow. Proofread it and push the insecurities & anxieties away and here we are. Love was put into this, I hope you enjoy it! Don't worry, the other 2 endings are on the way.

I tried posting this 9 times now and it keeps saying error. this is me testing it with mobile so formatting is hard but I hope it posts

BG: You were hoping that your best friend, Cedric to ask you to the Yule Ball. Instead you were roped into helping him ask Cho out. It broke your heart, but at least this way while helping him out you could pretend that he was doing all the sweet things to you. On the other side of the picture, Harry was too heartbroken upon learning that Cho is going out with Cedric.

Read the main story before it diverges ending here!

>>>Heartbreak Woman [Main]

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

 

Did Harry Potter really just ask you out and you said yes?

Touching your forehead, it wasn’t bleeding anymore but there is still a slight sting to it from the collision with Harry’s broom. Yes. That definitely happened. You thought to yourself, this isn’t some delusion from the injury.

 This is good. This is good. Hyping yourself up. You enjoy his company and that should be enough to stop your thoughts from going about a certain Hufflepuff boy. The same boy you had abruptly left alone in the greens. It’s not his fault nor it is Cho’s for wanting to date each other. You have nothing against them, they are both such lovely and kind people and not to mention popular- it was only a matter of time that they got together, Hogwarts’ Power Couple.

No, it’s just you and your stupid feelings falling for your best friend and agreeing to help with the courtship.

‘Y/n? Hii.” The voice reels you back to reality.

You blinked. “Cho! Hi!” Greeting her loudly had been taken by surprise. You dial down your volume. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s actually what you did, really… I just wanted to say thank you.”

You were confused, why was she thanking you?

“For helping Cedric I mean” She clarified. “He mentioned that you helped him with the picnic idea. It was very sweet. It was what made me finally say yes.”

“That’s awesome.” You force yourself to smile. “I’m glad you guys are together, I can finally get that git to stop bothering me with date ideas. That’s 3 weeks of my life I’m not getting back!” There was some truth to that statement, now that she and Cedric are together you don’t have to go through the pain of practice dates with Cedric.

“You y/n are the absolute wingwoman! Legend material!” Cho praised. “You're like my fairy godmother!” She continues, wrapping you into an embrace.

“yayyyy….That’s me…” You mumble into her luscious hair. Grateful that Cho couldn’t see your face.  Pulling apart, you don’t let her go quite yet. With hands on her shoulder, you stare unwavering. “Just don’t break his heart yea? He’s really smitten by you, promise you won’t hurt him.”

Cho is taken aback a bit, your words clearly coming from a strong emotional bond with the boy.  Thoughts of love, Eros, passed through her mind but brushed it away - It can’t be y/n help them get together. Y/n’s words must come from Philia love, y/n and Cedric had been best friends since before they could talk! Everyone knows that. They have a soul connection that can’t be replicated.  “I promise.”

~

14th February.

Valentine’s Day.

This holiday sucks.

No, not for the reason that you’re single. Nah.

Today is a downer as you won’t be able to do your annual tradition.

See every since 3rd year you and Cedric would be in a pink ensemble outfit complete with red heart sunglasses. Spreading chants of self love and showering fellow single students and professors with compliments. This all started out when your roommates teased you for not having a date for Valentine’s day.  When Cedric had heard about it, he went all out. The boy basically made sure that every single person knew how wonderful, beautiful and intelligent you are.

It was this day onwards that 2 things happened.

Complementing and advocating for self love, Philautia, in a pink get up became an annual Valentine’s tradition. (Even a couple of students joined the cause, expanding from you just both into an association/group of sorts.)

 You started to see Cedric in a new light. In other words, you were falling in love with your best friend.

Scanning the Great Hall for pink cladded pupils, you were glad that the group had saved you a seat however a certain Hufflepuff was out of sight. Taking a deep breath, you cleared your head. Get it together y/n. Today is about sharing love and do NOT think about Cedric and Cho going on a romantic date in Hogsmeade.

You were about to take a step forward when-

“Argh!” Shutting your eyes as the hall spun around.

“Relaxx!! Relax! It’s just me.”

Feet back on solid ground, you turned towards the perpetrator, the one boy you did not want to see right now. “What the fuck Ced! Don’t scare me like that!”

“I’m sorry…” Cedric raises his arms in surrender. “Is everything alright?”

“Yea everything’s fine.”

Cedric raises a brow. You forget that this boy can see through your bullshit.

“Only had a couple hours of sleep, that’s all.” It wasn’t a lie, in fact you’d only gotten 3 hours of rest last night, it was just the case of omitting that his upcoming date with Cho was the reason for your restlessness. You don’t want to blame it on jealousy, but it is.

Grabbing hold of your hand, he pulls you towards the group. "Alright then, I've got some spare sleeping potion if you need."

You wave to your fellow singles as you sit down."uh..thanks Ced." You couldn't stop vocalizing your confusion as to why Cedric is still right next to you. Normally you wouldn't complain, but today was Valentine's Day.

"Ouch y/n!" Cedric sassed, eyes focused on piling food onto his plate." Just because I have a girlfriend now doesn't mean I would disappear on my best girl."

My best girl. It hurts to be called that in another context than you wanted.

"Don't you have a date with Cho today?"

"Yea but Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop  doesn't open until 11am. Which gives me time for our annual Valentine's tradition!"

"But you're taken."

"Yes….but I could still help spreading the love!" Cedric glanced around. "No one minds that I come to join you right?"

A murmur of Nos filled your eyes.

"Haha! See I told you!" Cedric brags, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Looks at you straight in the eyes, those gorgeous grey irises melting away your defenses."You can't get rid of me that easily." He whispers, loud enough only for you to hear. You could feel the heat filling up your face due to his closeness. Too busy lost in the rapid beats of your heart, you failed to notice his face getting even closer.

A softness like cotton grazes your cheek.

Cedric kissed you!

Your mind is close to being short circuited. The area of where Cedric's lips were a nanosecond ago is cold as ice. The cold contrasted with your now burning hot, blushing face.

You could live in this forever. All external environments quiet, blocked out of focus. Cedric's arms around you while the butterflies in your stomach bursts out, occupying your whole body with sheer giddiness from having his lips on you.

But the daydream breaks.

"Hey Love! You ready?"

"Morning!" He greets, kissing her. "Uh…" It's only 9:34am. You nod, silently telling him that it was okay to miss your annual tradition. You weren't expecting any quality time today, yet he managed even if it was just for breakfast. "Yea.. give me 10 minutes to go change and I'll pick you up at the courtyard?"

"Sounds great. Be quick cause I miss you already!"

"Sure will sweetheart." He pecks her lips again then waves goodbye to the table and he's off, running.

The tension changes once Cedric is gone.

"Can I talk to you outside y/n?"

"uh yeah" Once outside. "What's up?" Trying to sound casual. Cho inviting you to speak privately isn't usual-seeing that you were the couple's go to accomplice for surprises.

"I see the way you look at him."

"I'm sorry?"

"I know.you like him. y/n. I know you like Cedric."

"Cho.. you can't be serious, he's my best friend!"

"I wasn't sure then.but just now..the way you act around him. the way you look at him. y/n is undeniable. It’s  so obvious-I had assumptions then but everyone just brushes it off as your childhood friend with each other. heck even both of you say that."

"Cho…."

"I didn't bring this up before because I felt insecure, jealous even that I can't live up to the standard of relationship you and Cedric have.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. There were too many revelations bombarding you all at once, that you are having trouble processing what is going on.

“But I am tired of what ifs and worrying.” Voice quivering, she continues. “You've got to tell him, y/n."

The words snap you back into place.

"Cho… I can't. I can't ruin your relationship."

If you love someone and they love someone else, you let them go.

~

Everything Taglist :@gruffle1

HP Taglist:@onlyfreds

Heartbreak woman Tagist:

@joalinbenefits @the-natureofme @romanoffs-heart @justmesadgirl @plumso @gleefulleve @wolf-phoenix-lover @ceofcedric @savvy7392 @cedricsfluffyhair @thewayilookatbacon @LIONLIKEWOLFLIKE @mellifluous-cosmos

[massivedrickhead]

Bechloe Week 2021 - Day 6

July 31st: Neighbors AU or Famous AU

Read on AO3

So, yeah, should have posted this yesterday but I didn’t have time to finish writing it and then I got drunk. I’m not super happy with it, it didn’t come out like I planned, but I hope you like it anyway. Hopefully I can get day 7 written and posted tomorrow.

-

Fame for Beca had always been a double edged sword.

It allowed her music to spread across the globe. She got to meet fans and hear about how she had inspired or helped them, just by existing. She got to work with and meet her peers and idols, and perform in places she never dreamed of.

She got to provide for her family. She got to give her kids the childhood she never had, and she got to give her wife the life she deserved.

But she also had to deal with paparazzi following them around everywhere they went.

She had to deal with articles written about her every other day, and intense fans that crossed boundaries, and ones that would trash her online.

Beca was finding that she had more bad days than good days, and it was beginning to weigh her down.

She had to remind herself daily, that there were billions of people who were suffering in the world, and that she was incredibly privileged to live the life she led.

But Chloe could see the toll it was taking on her wife, and it was killing her.

After she was almost in that car accident, Beca had taken a couple of weeks off work. She spent her time taking care of Chloe, playing with Blake, and obsessively re-writing and re-working the songs on her upcoming album.

And it was an insane success.

Everyone who had slated her single ate their words, and Beca found herself skyrocketing to fame for the second time.

Their money worries disappeared almost overnight, but other problems replaced them quickly.

Beca had always been a relatively private and introverted person. It was one of the reasons she had always wanted to be a producer rather than an artist.

So while her fame rose, her anxiety did too.

She tried to keep it to herself, but Chloe has always been able to read Beca like a book.

She always knew when Beca’s anxiety was bad, but she also always knew how to calm Beca down.

So they were dealing with it. They had a system. Beca would work until she couldn’t, and then Chloe would pick her back up.

“People are dying,” Beca would mutter to herself, her eyes squeezed shut, her hands on the back of her head. “Children are dying. They’re going without food, water, and medicine, and they’re dying. My problems are nothing.”

When things were at the worst, she would repeat this to herself over and over as wave after way of anxiety crippled her. Chloe would find her and hold her, and whisper reassurances until Beca calmed down.

It wasn’t an ideal situation, but it was working.

At least Chloe thought it was.

But then Beca reached her breaking point.

It had been a rough week to begin with - she had had to read an article on a prominent gossip site about how she was apparently cheating on Chloe with another musician - so she was already on edge.

Chloe had assured Beca she knew it was all bullshit, but Beca still hated that Chloe had to deal with that stuff. And she hated even more that Blake was old enough to read and understand it.

It was Riley’s third birthday, and she was walking with her girls to get ice cream from the kids’ favourite place.

Riley was up on Beca’s shoulders, Chloe was walking at her side, pushing Riley’s empty stroller, and Blake was walking between them.

“What ice cream are you gonna get, peanut?” Beca asked.

“I don’t want any,” Blake said, frowning, kicking her shoes against the ground.

Beca shot a look of confusion at Chloe. She had been excited when they were in the car, and had seemed perfectly happy a few minutes ago when Beca had taken her hand to cross the street.

“Why not?” Chloe asked.

“I just don’t. I wanna go home,” she said. She stopped walking, so Beca and Chloe did too.

“Hey, what is it?” Chloe asked, crouching down in front of her. She pushed Blake’s dark brown hair out of her face, and lifted her sunglasses so she could see her eyes. “Are you not feeling well?”

“People keep taking pictures of us,” she said in a quiet voice. “And I don’t like it.”

Chloe glanced up at Beca in time to see her face fall.

“None of us like it very much,” Chloe said. “But your Mom is famous. And that means people wanna see pictures of her when she’s out and about.”

“Well I hate it!” Blake snapped. She looked past Chloe and let out a groan of annoyance. “They’re doing it again!”

Chloe turned and saw a man sitting at a table outside a coffee shop pointing his phone at them. He shoved it into his pocket and turned away when he realised he’d been caught.

Beca sighed, and took Riley down from her shoulders. Riley fussed and started crying when Beca put her back in her stroller.

“Sorry baby girl,” Beca said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Beca,” Chloe said in a warning voice.

“I’m just gonna talk to him,” Beca said.

She left Chloe with their daughters and approached the man.

She saw recognition dawn in other peoples’ faces as she got close.

“Hey,” she said, keeping her tone friendly. “Can you do me a favour and delete those pictures you took?”

“I didn’t-”

“Come on, man, even my nine-year-old clocked you. She doesn’t like having her picture taken, and I don’t like photographs of my kids being on some stranger’s phone,” Beca said. “I’ll happily take a selfie with you, if you want, but I’d really like it if you deleted those photos.”

“Yeah, I kinda don’t want a selfie,” he said. “TMZ won’t pay me anything for a selfie.”

Beca clenched her jaw and forced a smile. “Delete those pictures, dude.”

“No,” he said. “It’s a free country.”

Beca could feel the eyes of every other table watching them. She knew they had all fallen silent to eavesdrop.

“Delete the pictures of my fucking kids, do you hear me?” Beca said, trying to keep her voice down.

She was sick of this. Sick of the entitlement that these people had. Like they had a right to her life, and she was sick of the impact it was having on her family.

“Are you gonna make me?”

She saw he was pointing his phone at her again.

She swallowed down the anger that was building. “I’m asking nicely, dude. Delete those pictures.”

“I was taking them of you and Chloe,” he said. “You can hardly see the kids.”

“Is there a problem here?”

She looked at the man who had just arrived and figured he must work for the coffee shop, based on his brown apron with the shop logo, and the name tag that read ‘Dylan’.

“Beca fucking Mitchell here won’t leave me alone,” the guy said.

“This pervert took pictures of my kids!” Beca snapped back.

“What did you just call me?” He stood up from his chair quickly, the raised voice and abrupt noise of the chair scraping attracted more attention.

“How many other pictures of little girls are we gonna find on your phone? Let’s take a look,” she made a move to grab the phone off the table, but he tried to stop her, and caused it to slide off and onto the floor.

Without thinking, Beca drove the heel of her Doc Marten boot into it, hearing a satisfying crunch as the screen broke.

Yes, his pictures were probably already on the Cloud, but she didn’t care right now. He wasn’t going to be able to ruin anyone else’s day today.

“Yes!” One of the patrons of the coffee shop cheered. “Work bitch!”

“That was a $1,500 phone you… talentless whore!” He shoved her, hard, and Beca fell backwards into another table.

With a look of panic in his eyes he ran off, as Chloe rushed towards her with the girls.

“Mommy!” Blake cried, letting go of Chloe’s hand and running over to Beca who was now sitting on the ground, her hand gingerly touching the back of her head. “Mommy, he pushed you!”

She climbed onto her Mom’s lap and wrapped her arms around her.

“I know,” Beca said, hugging her daughter tightly. “But I’m okay.”

A bigger crowd had started to form around them now, and more people had their phones out. Beca could feel the panic building in her chest.

People were touching her, Beca didn’t know if they were trying to help her up or not, but she needed them to stop.

“Can I get through, please?” Beca heard Chloe shout. “Excuse me, I need to check on my wife.”

Dylan managed to clear a space for Chloe to get through with the stroller.

Riley was starting to get upset, and Chloe could see the panic rising in Beca’s eyes.

“Are you okay?” Chloe asked, her voice as quiet as she could make it so Beca would still be able to hear, but that it might not carry to the crowd.

“I can’t be here,” Beca said, her voice shaking. “I don’t want them to see.”

“Okay,” Chloe said. She stood up and quietly asked Dylan if there was somewhere they could sit in private, and he nodded. “Blake, honey, can you help your Mom stand up?”

Blake climbed off Beca’s lap, and held out her small hand for Beca to take. Beca took it, and stood up as Blake pulled.

Dylan led them through the shop and to a small room with a couple of sofas that must have been meant for staff.

“I’ll make sure no one bothers you,” he said.

“Thank you,” Chloe said. “We really appreciate this.”

He left the room and closed the door behind him.

Beca dropped onto one of the sofas and let her head fall into her shaking hands.

She forced herself to take deep breaths as Chloe sat beside her, rubbing a comforting hand up and down her back.

“Mommy?” Riley asked.

“Yeah?” Chloe replied.

“Can we get ice cream yet?”

Beca burst into tears without warning, which created the domino effect of Riley crying and then Blake crying.

“Okay,” Chloe said, surveying her tearful family. “Who needs a hug the most?”

“Mom does,” Blake said, sniffing and wiping her eyes.

“Can you give it to her while I take care of Riley?”

“Uh huh,” Blake said. She climbed onto Beca’s lap again, and Beca pulled her daughter into her arms. “It’s okay, Mom, the bad man is gone.”

“I know,” Beca said, trying to stop crying. “I’m just sad that he ruined Riley’s birthday.”

“We can still get ice cream,” Blake said. “I won’t be angry about people taking our picture anymore.”

“No, baby, you should be angry about that,” Beca said. “They don’t have your permission, so they shouldn’t be doing it.”

Her eyes met Chloe’s who was soothing a still sobbing Riley. Something was going to have to change.

They left the coffee shop once everyone had calmed down, and Beca gave them a big tip for the trouble they’d gone through.

They made it back to the car without any more trouble, and Beca ordered some ice cream on DoorDash to get delivered.

They hung out in their garden for the rest of the day, playing in the pool, and eating junk food.

Chloe kept noticing the smile that would slip from Beca’s face whenever she thought no one was looking.

Once the kids were bathed and put to bed, Chloe poured them both a generous glass of wine, and joined Beca on their comfy sofa in the living room.

“I don’t want you confronting people like that again, Bec,” Chloe said, trying to massage the tension out of Beca’s shoulders.

“I know,” Beca said, closing her eyes.

“I mean it,” Chloe said. “He could have hurt you.”

“I know,” Beca said again. “I promise, I won’t do that again.”

“Good,” Chloe said. She placed a kiss on the back of Beca’s head.

They were quiet for a while as Chloe continued slowly massaging Beca’s shoulders.

“Come on,” she said, planting a brief kiss on her neck. “Let's go to bed.”

They climbed the stairs, briefly checked on the kids, and then changed for bed.

“What are you thinking?” Chloe asked, watching Beca as stared up at the ceiling. She could see tears building in her eyes again, and she brushed one away with a sweep of her thumb.

“I don’t wanna do it anymore, Chloe,” Beca said, her voice breaking. “We can’t take our kids for ice cream. Blake is getting too anxious to leave the house, and Riley is gonna start picking up on that soon. You can’t even work anymore. I don’t… I don’t wanna be famous anymore, I don’t want to live in this stupid town, I don’t want any of it.”

“I know,” Chloe said, softly.

“I’m serious.” Her voice was wobbling dangerously now. “I can’t… It’s crushing me.” She brought up a hand to cover her face as she started crying. “I can’t do it anymore.”

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, we can figure this out,” Chloe said, gathering Beca into her arms. “We’ll be okay.”

“It’s gonna kill me.”

“I know, baby, I know. But I won’t let it,” Chloe said. “Tomorrow we’re gonna call Theo, and we’re gonna figure it out.”

“Thank you,” Beca said, feeling calm relief begin to wash over her. Things were going to change. Things were going to get better. “I love you.”

“I love you too. No matter what your job is or where we live. I’m always gonna love you.”

[life-rewritten]

THE GIANTS OF THAI BL 2020 AKA SHOWS STEALING MY HEART IN NOVEMBER

UPDATE AND UPCOMING ANALYSIS NOVEMBER 2020

It's the moment I've been waiting for since the excruciating silence of Thai BLS during the lockdown. It's November, the month of thanksgivings, the month of pre-Christmas jitters, nanowrimo and the month that has finally made me realise we are so close to ending this godforsaken year. Still, most of all, November means that we are getting buttloads of shows that are about to take my breath away. This year has been such an exciting year for BLS because of the increasingly amount of companies and directors willing to produce and release different types of BLS. In this list, we have awaited sequels, delicious plotlines and shocking comebacks. But most of all we have lots and lots of romance and men. Which of these have you been waiting for? Let me know. Let's squeal about it. November is going to be so great!

Ratings: From 1 to 5 (1 being least excited to watch, 5 being most,) how excited am I to delve into these shows?

Shows already airing

1.I TOLD SUNSET ABOUT YOU/ INTERPRET, MY LOVE, WITH YOUR HEART

Genre/Themes: Romance, Melodrama, Coming of Age, Angst, Drama, Childhood friendship

Country: Thailand

Verdict: So finally I rise from the memories of poorly produced bls, and pains of bad acting, and toxic writings, and traumas of stiff actors and homophobic agendas to finally say that without a doubt. Nadao has produced another masterpiece after my other favourite (Non) BL; Greater Man academy. Nadao stuns me, and for a very long time, I couldn't understand that this was how everyone was feeling, one because I wasn't fully educated or in the know about the company, I only saw tv shows in Thailand that were produced by GMMTV and to be honest I didn't think there was anything else above that standard in shows apart from Lakorns and Movies. (I know Sacrebleu) Getting to know and watch Nadao shows has been an experience, and for BL, I am hooked and ready for what else they have to offer. The only qualms that prevent me from gushing about the show are how international fans are treated. It took me a very long time to forgive ITSAY for its subbing platform (and price range), and that's why I refused to watch it with positive feelings. After episode 2 though, I'd be a fool to hold on to resentment when there is no doubt that this BL (despite not knowing if it's a sad ending. I'd hate if it is but it wouldn't change anything) is the best BL of this year. With ridiculous, incredible production, outstanding breathtaking cinematography, beautiful and talented actors and writing so good it blows me away. Episode 2 left my heart in pieces, but in a good way, I haven't recovered from the angst.

Ratings: 4.5/5 Would have been a 5/5 if the pricing made sense but also I'm terrified about a sad ending which I won't be too happy about.

2. FRIEND FOREVER/ OUR LOVE IS SICK

Genre/Themes: Romance, Music, Coming of Age, Angst, Drama, Childhood friendship, Rich vs poor,  Bullying 

Country: Thailand

Verdict: It's a pity this show is not available for international fans. Because I think people would actually love this show the way I do. It's so precious, reminds me so much of my first ever BL Lovesick (made by the same production team so makes sense) but better. What can I say about this show, really adorable cast, actually so good on the screen, great chemistry, and good storylines that keep me hooked. I am so in love with surprisingly one of my favourite couples this year Tin and Sea. I have such a great time watching this show, and I enjoy also analysing and just piecing together some of the mysteries in the show. It's been so good so far, and I can't wait for more. The first episodes are a little slow-paced, but it gets better as you keep watching it. I'd advise you to watch the director's cut because that has all of the storylines in the episode instead of the tv version which is more censored and has a lot of deleted scenes that mess with the flow of the storyline. Still, one of my favourite Thai shows right now. 

Ratings: 4/5  I think 4/5 is a fair score just because of some confusion when trying to watch it internationally and getting the right version and I do think the story feels like a whiplash between the different styles of writing of the main two couples. Go watch this though if you haven't, dm me and I'll show you how. 

NON-THAI

3. GAYA SA PELIKULA

Genre/Themes: Romance, Drama, Comedy, Angst, LGBTQ+ Education, Contract relationship, Haters to lovers

Country: Philippines 

Verdict: Normally with verdicts, I have so much to say about a show, also when I analyse I can write essays and essays of information. When it comes to this show, I'm speechless. I'm in awe; I'm crying just even trying to explain how great this show is. How great Fridays are because of this show. How upsetting and damaged I am when the end of the episode occurs, I literally mourn waiting for the next episode the next week because it's too long. This show pulls you in, and it never lets you go. I'm mindblown by the writing of this show, mindblown by the acting, by the production, music, but most of all I have become a mess because of this meta in this show. I have cried so much because of how much I care about this show, the characters are all fleshed out, are so powerfully written, and emotionally tugs at your heartstrings whilst still educating and representing LGBTQ community fantastically. I don't know what we did to deserve a show like this. Maybe its because after years of waiting for something to finally show up and just be unproblematic and be so great with no questions, no confusions, no struggle, this show is just that. And I will be forever thankful to the whole team that brought this to us

Ratings: 5/5 I would give this more than 5 if I could. That's how much this show means to me. 

4. CHERRY MAGIC 

Genre/Themes: Romance, Comedy, Supernatural, Office drama, Slice of Life

Country: Japan

Verdict: Kurosawa and Adachi. That's it. That's the reason for the 5/5 stars when it comes to watching this show. First of all, I like Japanese romantic comedy shows, and anime, and manga. So seeing cherry magic come to life as this amazing form of that makes me so happy. Typically with Japanese BL, everything feels so serious sometimes, and then sometimes it feels too crazy and over the top. But Cherry Magic just feels like a warm hug when you watch it; you can't help your self but to smile and giggle at Adachi's adventures realising that he can read minds because he's a virgin at 30 years old. To add to that, he is given Kurosowa this incredible, amazing, wonderful non-toxic man who absolutely adores him and unconditionally is there for him. I just like what? Where do I get my own Kurosawa? Like it just feels so unfair haha. But really cherry magic is full of great acting, fantastic plot and unique as well. Every character is also written well, and all have interesting dynamics. We also have another side couple who is so funny and ridiculous but also just cute and heartwarming. I have a great time watching this show and the fact that it's ending on Christmas day? Already tells you what this show is, a gift and its a great one. 

Ratings: 5/5 I want my own Kurosawa. That's it. That's all I want Universe.

Shows Upcoming

5. THARNTYPE 7 YEARS OF LOVE

Genre/Themes: Romance, Drama, Comedy,  Mature, LGBTQ+ Representation, Internalised homophobia, Sequel

Country: Thailand

Verdict: This is a complicated show to gush about. First of all TharnType, the series in 2019 was one of my favourite shows that brought me back to this BL thing. I absolutely adore all the actors, and I also loved the storyline like I said before there's something about Mame's writing that I appreciate, I think most of her strengths is found in TharnType. Because of this, this sequel is one of my most anticipated show this year. However, I feel conflicted because I hate sequels. I hate couples having to go through the weird-ass, shallow, conflicts that just end up ruining the meaning of their previous show and leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth about the couple I once loved (Looking at you Together with me the next chapter still traumatised honestly). Enough of the negatives, Tharn and Type from the trailer looks like it's going to be a wild ride, I can even see the great chemistry that made me fall for MewGulf, and I'm so excited to see the new couples and characters. I also am so excited to see TECHNO again and laugh with him every Friday. We also know that the awaited wedding between our couple is also going to be in this show. And that's going to make me bawl like a baby. Let's hope we don't have too many toxic or troublesome storylines, let's hope we don't have too many breakups and fights (because that hurts so much seeing Mew cry) and let's hope we finally have a sequel that is better than its predecessor. 

Ratings: 4.5/5  This is how I feel about it, I don't think I can rate it as 5/5 because of all the worry and anxiety at what the storyline entails—still a great show to look forward to. 

6. MANNER OF DEATH

Genre/Themes: Romance, Crime, Mature, Angst, Drama, Mystery, Thriller, Haters to Lovers

Country: Thailand

Verdict: Think about it. Why wouldn't this be number one on everyone's list of upcoming BLS? We have the return of one of the best actors in this genre MaxTul the actual godfathers of Thai BL; we have an incredible team here with a director that has won multiple awards, with a storyline that is unique to Thai BL, we're getting crime, detective, mystery BL with mature characters who are not in university? As if that's not enough, we also have a really incredible plotline about this forensic doctor who falls in love with someone who we are not sure if we should trust because he could be a murderer! Like oooh yes please, the drama, the angst, the thrill?? I'm ready for this; I am so prepared to give my whole heart and attention on this show. I want it to be so good, to defeat the shows of 2019 that came and took our hearts away, to be the best BL ever. It's so difficult not to raise my expectations when it comes to this show when I know we have a great cast, great chemistry, non-stiff acting, and just a really non-toxic author as well. I look forward to this so much. Only issue/question? Where is the trailer? Hello WETV, where is our teaser? Why don't we know the date for when this is coming out? I want it out now. But I'll try and be patient okay? 

Ratings: 5/5 I can't think of how this show won't be good. And that's really worrying. But for now, I'll keep my expectations high and wait.

7. TONHON CHONTALEE 

Genre/Themes: Romance, Coming of Age, Angst, Comedy, Childhood friendship, GMMTV

Country: Thailand

Verdict: Podd and KHAOTHUNG, (my sun, my heart, my favourite person ever) Sorry just gushing over my two faves. GMMTV has shocked me this year with the announcement of this show. First of all, Khao gets to have a show where he's the main lead. I've been waiting for this, and I'm so proud and excited for him. Not only that obviously, but TonTonChontalee looks really good with a vibe of a  comedic spin to one of my favourite shows Theory of love. I am ready to see Podd act so stupid as Ton and at the same time sob when he finally realises that Chon is the one. I'm so ready to see Khao act his socks off, and the show looks so funny, so fun and just like the chemistry between two is definitely a winner. I cannot wait for this next Friday. And it also has Mike and Toptap! What's not to love? Seriously though I'm praying this is successful, and it helps both Podd and Khao to dominate GMMTV. Let's find out next Friday.

Ratings: 5/5 For Podd and Khaothung. Just worth the rating.

8. GEN Y THE SERIES

Genre/Themes: Romance, Drama, Comedy, Angst, 2moons Fanfiction, Haters to Lovers

Country: Thailand

Verdict: First of all 2 MOONS Reunion! What?? Very shocked to see this show tbh one because it's like a direct copy of 2moons the series; the same cast, the weird alternations to the same name, the same kind of plot as well. Channel 3 has finally decided to invest in BLs,  one of the biggest companies in Thailand, so the budget is high, the actors are known and famous, the production is good. This is so exciting to see. Also, 2moons was one of my favourite past BLs the whole time it was airing, and I had a massive affinity for Kimmon and Copter, so it's great to see them play their characters again but with a better budget and now glow up and grown. Their acting seems to have improved, Kit and Ming's storyline being the main focus is also really lovely to see. I also love seeing Bas and the other actors from other Bl series (The Moment actors) and I'm excited to know more about the new cast as well. So yeh this show has a great potential to win my heart as well, and the competition is not easy at all. But with a great company behind them and an exciting premise, this can also be a winner. 

Ratings: 4/5 I'm intrigued by this show, and I look forward to seeing what it brings.

November is such an exciting month for someone like me who just loves watching tv and analysing and just seeing romance bloom. These couples, stories and actors have a great potential to be the best things of 2020 so far, each of these shows holds evidence that they're worth paying attention to and honestly I've missed seeing Thai BLs that make me so excited so much. I've missed these actors, I've loved each and every one of them, and I can't wait to see them this month on my screen. What about you, guys? What do you look forward to? Who are your favourites? What are you worried about when it comes to these comebacks. Let's discuss.

[cappsikle]

It’ll be ok // fred weasley

Pairing: fred weasley x reader

Summary: the world just seems a little too heavy, but luckily, you have him by your side.

Warnings: it gets just a tad heavy mental health wise / not all of it is proofread so please forgive that

Word Count: 2.6k 

A/N: Hey guys!! Sooo this is my first ever fic on tumblr! I would just like to dedicate this piece to @ickle-ronniekins as it was her and a bunch of talented writers that inspired me to get back to writing, and I wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t for them!

Also if you like this fic please reblog! It would mean a lot if you did!

This fic is just a huge projection from my own feelings, quarintine has got me in my feels, and I’m sure everyone could do with some Freddie comfort. Enjoy!! <3

-----

There you were, hunched over various textbooks and pieces of parchment that seemed to cover the whole table. Fred looked up at the clock on the wall above the fireplace and then back down to you. Something in his eyes changed as he walked over to the table, quickly bidding goodnight to George and Lee as they headed up to the dorms.  

Fred sat in the chair next to yours and he couldn’t help to just take a minute to admire you. But from glancing at you now, Fred knew that something wasn’t right. From your usually very well-kept hair that now looked as though you ran your fingers through it at least a hundred times throughout the night to your joyless and sunken eyes, eyes that used to hold all the joy and spark Fred loved most about you, but are now just dull and almost... lifeless.

For a while now, Fred had noticed small changes in the way you’ve been acting recently, and it wasn’t even just him, all your other friends had taken notice as well, but no one knew what to do. It wasn’t until this very moment as he watched you tire yourself out with work that he realised just how much had changed, and he felt a pang of guilt for not talking to you about it sooner. So, in the softest voice he could muster, Fred tried to coax you from your work whilst placing a gentle hand on your arm. “Hey, love. ‘S getting a bit late, reckon we should head up to bed?”  

Your head snapped up at Fred as he spoke, only now taking notice of his presence, but you then quickly looked back down to continue scribbling mercilessly on the parchment. You needed to get this essay done before tomorrow, otherwise, you’ll slowly but surely fall behind on everything else. You can’t let that happen,  

“I’m sorry Fred, I really can’t. I have to finish this stupid essay for potions”  

“For potions? Isn’t that due next week?” You looked back up at Fred, your eyes widening as you became more distressed.  

“I-I know but if I get this done now then I can use my time to focus on other assignments. I’ve fallen behind and I need to catch up.” Fred slowly nodded his head in understanding. It seemed like a good enough excuse, hell, he’s been in this exact position before, pulling his fair share of all-nighters for assignments due the next day, but when Fred looked deep into your eyes, there was something there that he couldn’t quite place. Desperation? He wasn’t sure. 

“Look, love, you’re wearing yourself thin. You need a break”  

You don’t know why, but suddenly you’re very irritated. It’s possibly due to how much sleep you’re getting, well, more like lack of sleep. You don’t know why, but suddenly you’re snapping at him “Fred, I don’t need a break so can you just please leave me alone?” 

You don’t want to look at him, for the fear of seeing a look of hurt or the resentment that’s bound to be there you’re not sure you can take that sort of thing, so you lower your head and quickly wriggle your arm free from under his hand.  

Fred tried not to feel offended, he really tried, but you removing your arm from his touch just nicked him in his chest. He knew you didn’t have a problem with him, he knew this was something that seemed too out of his control, but he just wished he knew what to do to make you feel better. Maybe giving you some space should help.   

“Okay... I’ll head to bed then. Try not to stay up too late, yeah? I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight” Fred placed a quick and gentle kiss to the crown of your head as he stood up and walked towards the stairs. Before ascending, he looked back towards you still slumped in your chair, and an unsettling feeling crawled its way into his stomach. With one final look, he walked up the stairs towards his room.  

Once Fred left, you chucked down your quill in frustration and rapidly ran your hands through your hair, pulling at the roots in distress. You hated this. You hated how you get annoyed at things that shouldn’t annoy you, you hated how it was impossible to get a good night’s rest, you hated how your mind just wouldn’t. Shut. Up. And what’s worst of all, you loathed how you keep pushing the one person who seems to give a crap about you. It’s not like there’s a lot of people who do.  

A sharp pain nestled in your chest, but you tried to ignore it, you always did. You weren’t even sure what it meant. Anxiety? Guilt? It was probably a mixture of both. You didn’t know how, or when, you allowed it to get so bad. With Umbridge slowly taking over the school alongside her vile punishments (you’ve had your fair share of them), the upcoming N.E.W.Ts that you needed to ace and the stress of keeping up with the DA meetings. But that doesn’t even seem like the half of it. Every little inconvenience had the power to ruin the rest of your day.  

You couldn’t deal with it anymore, with any of it. You just wished there was a way to make the world slow down to grab your bearings, to just actually breathe. You released a big sigh and grabbed your quill again, but the tip doesn’t even touch the paper. It’s stuck, just like you. Eventually, you fold your arms on the table and rest your head on them. You know you must finish but maybe... just five minutes won’t hurt. Just five minutes.   

---  

Fred lay awake on his bed, staring up at the ceiling for merlin knows how long. That weird feeling in his stomach didn’t go away, something just felt extremely off. Fred checked the watch located on the table beside his bed. It was pretty late; he’d been awake for at least a couple hours. Knowing that he wasn’t going to be getting any sleep anytime soon, Fred threw the covers from his body and gently got out of bed, careful to not wake any of his sleeping roommates.  

By the time he made it down to the bottom of the stairs, he was already wishing to be back in bed, however, what he saw made him stop in his tracks. You were still there, this time unmoving with your head resting on your arms and your deep and even breathing. Why were you still here and not in bed? As carefully as he could, Fred walked over to your sleeping self and gently laid a hand on your shoulder squeezing just enough to rouse you.  

After a few more gentle squeezes you started to stir awake. Fred almost felt bad for waking you, but he knew that you would have a much better time sleeping in an actual bed than a desk. You lifted your head and Fred couldn’t help to admire the sheer adorableness of your sleepy form. Your hair was dishevelled and sticking up in a few places, your cheek was red from where it was resting and the tiny noises that came from you whilst you stretched. However, as much as he’d love to stare, he knew he had to take care of you, or at least get you to bed.  

Once you had done stretching, you looked around the table until your eyes landed on an arm, which trailed all the way to Fred’s face. You were taken aback at suddenly seeing his face next to yours, but you quickly calmed down upon looking into his soft eyes, the glow of the fire making his brown orbs look more alive and opening.  

“Hey,” Fred said, a small smirk appearing at the corner of his lips.  

“Hi,” you smile back. For a moment, when you looked into his eyes, you felt warm, like you were safe, you always did. You loved Fred, you loved him so much but often at times you caught yourself doubting whether or not you deserved to be with him, and each and every time Fred did his absolute best to prove your thoughts wrong. Looking into his eyes, you just get that feeling... the feeling of coming home to a warm bed after a cold day. Sometimes, you feel as if your heart might explode from the amount of love you have for him, you couldn’t even out into words. But that warm and safe feeling was quickly diminished and replaced with dread once you looked down to the mess that was sitting on the table. Darn this stupid assignment.

“Crap, I can’t believe I fell asleep!” you groan as you shuffled through some of the parchment, trying to find the one you needed.

“Hey, hey, hey, slow down there” Fred placed his hand on top of yours, trying to stop your erratic movements. “Don’t you think it’s time to take a bit of a break? It’s nearly two a.m.”

“Fred, I can’t just ‘take a break’, I’ve got too much to do,”

“And it’ll all still be here after you’ve had some sleep,”

You released a groan in frustration and turned to face him, your irritation getting the better of you. “Don’t you get it? That’s the problem!” your voice started to rise with each word, the stress and lack of sleep catching up to you. “If I stop now then I’ll fall behind and I just can’t let that happen, ok? So just back off.”

“Hey,” Fred grabbed your cheeks in both his hands and guided your face, so you were looking at him. Seeing your widened eyes and reddened cheeks concerned him, as this was just so unlike you. What happened to this happy-go-lucky and incredibly bubbly person go? The person who had the purest soul than anyone he knew? You just looked... tired. He knew he had to tread carefully here if we wanted to crack all your walls to understand what the hell is going on.

You moved your hands up to try and remove his from his face, but his grip tightened ever so slightly to make your attempts futile. “Look, I’m worried about you. All this,” he tilted his head to the side to gesture to everything on the table. “it isn’t like you. Please don’t hide away, because you know I’m here for you.”

You both stayed silent for a minute, his hands holding your cheeks and yours resting on his forearms. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, you just crumbled. Your face scrunched up and your breathing became erratic as you looked down to hide your face from Fred’s gaze. You leaned forward so your head was resting against his chest, letting out a few silent sobs as you just... broke. At the sight of your crying figure, Fred immediately jumped into action. He removed his hands from your face and wrapped his arms around your waist, carrying you over so you sat in his lap. One of his hands trailed up to stroke your head as his other maneuvered your legs so they wrapped around his torso, your head pushing further into his shoulder.

You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to get as close to him as possible. You just needed the warmth that constantly surrounded him. After a few minutes of tears and whisperings of sweet nothings into your ear along with Fred’s comforting touch, your breathing started to return to normal, and your sobs turned into the occasional hiccup. You weren’t really expecting to have a total breakdown, you honestly thought that you had things under control, but when you looked and Fred and he looked at you, you knew you couldn’t keep everything bottled up anymore.

Fred was the first to break the silence, “d’you wanna move to the couch? It'll be comfier”. The only response he got was a small nod of your head, you not really being able to trust your voice enough to speak. So, Fred stood up with you still wrapped in his arms as he carried you over to the couch in front of the fire, grabbing the spare blanket and wrapping it around you and himself. It was like a nice little cocoon of comfort and warmth.  

And for a while, you two stayed like that, basking in the silence and the warmth the fire provided. You knew you needed to say something, you just didn’t know what exactly you could say. Fred was in the same boat. Should he make a joke to try and make you feel better? That always did the trick. But... something about tonight just told him to leave it on the backburner for now. He slid his arm underneath the blanket and stroked up and down the expanse of your back, hoping to relax your tense muscles. Occasionally Fred would turn his head to place delicate kisses on your forehead, cheeks, nose... basically anywhere his lips could find.

God... what did you do to desrve someone like him? Someone so boisterous and loud, but also understanding and gentle when he needed to be. As the minutes ticked by, and Fred’s hands continuously moving across your body, you finally found the courage to speak up.

“Sometimes I just feel like...” you trailed off, trying to find the right words.  

“like?”  

“like nothing is going to be ok. Like no matter how hard I try, or pretend, I’m not going to be ok,” your voice caught in your throat as you buried your head into his shoulder, a weak attempt to shield yourself from the world threatening to beat you down. A silent tear trailed down the side of your face, but you hadn’t made any attempt to wipe it away.

Fred sighed through his nose, and he swore a piece of his heart cracked when your voice did. He knew you were struggling with something, but he was just never sure of what or how bad it was. He only wished he could just take all your pain away, even force it upon himself if it meant that you’d get the chance to be happy.  

“Oh love, I had no idea. I’m so sorry”  

“It’s okay...” you half-shrug your shoulder, removing one of your arms from around his neck to quickly wipe the corner of your eye “no one really knew, so it’s fine”  

There was a moment of silence as the both of you tried to catch up with your thoughts, until Fred finally spoke up, a strain in his voice, “no, it’s not fine. I hate that you’re feeling like this. Please, is there anything I can do to help you?”  

You shrug your shoulder again. To be completely honest, you weren’t even sure if there was anything he could do. You've barely even figured out what you can do for yourself. However, there was one thing you knew you needed, the one thing that could help you through anything. “Just be here, and hold me?”  

Fred placed his lips to your forehead, leaving them there for a bit as he gave a gentle kiss. He breathed deeply through his nose and spoke the words against your forehead. “for you, my love, anything.”  

With those final words and his fingers slowly tracing up and down your arm, you felt for the first time, that maybe, just maybe, things might turn out ok.  

-----

whew and there we go!!! My first fic completed!! I honestly have no self control when it comes to word limits, my teachers hate me for that... oopsies! anyways I hope you all enjoyed that, if you guys liked my work feel free to send in any requests! 

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!!

- Mills

[so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed]

With the year coming to an end, here is everything I’ve written in 2020. I had quite a productive year, and wrote some fics I’m very proud of. I’ve also met wonderful new people and I’m going to participate in the big bang next year, as well as hopefully join more fests! Thank you to everyone who has helped me create these 12 fics!

March:

🤴 with no way out and a long way down Larry, 31k, T, written for the @hlroyaltyfest​

Prince Harry is ten when he receives his soulmark.

May:

✈️  driving down a one way road (to something better) Zouis, 26k, T, written for the @wallsficfest​

“I’m at the airport.” It’s followed by a bitter laugh. “I’m - I’m literally at the airport, hiding away in the toilets to make a phone call. They’re probably going to barge in here in a minute, thinking I’m doing something illegal, but I didn’t know what else to do Lou.” He sounds desperate, wild, nothing that Louis is used to associating with Zayn. “My flight leaves in an hour, and I wasn’t gonna do this, but, I didn’t know what else to do.”

Louis frowns. “What do you mean, love?”

“Can I - Can I please come and stay with you?” It’s barely more than a whisper, and Louis honestly isn’t sure if he’s heard it right, but the lack of an immediate response on his part makes Zayn’s breath come out all shaky and Louis won’t stand for that.

“Yes,” he decides, repeats it, in a softer but no less certain voice, when he knows Zayn is about to protest. “Yes. Of course. I’ll be there, yeah? I’ll come pick you up. When will you get here? What airport?”

---

When Zayn breaks up with his boyfriend, he needs a place to stay. Louis wouldn't be Louis if he didn't immediately open his doors to him. Never mind the fact that he's been in love with him for two years. That's not important, right?

July:

🏥  my love will never leave you Larry, 10k, T, written for the @wordplayfics​ challenge week 1

In a world where memories are used as currency, Louis will do anything it takes for Harry to get better.

🗝  sadness is a little boy looking out the window Ziam, 6k, T, written for the @wordplayfics​ challenge week 2

Liam is twelve when he receives the key. It’s given to him on his birthday, in a red velvet box, and something about the weight of the box in his palm gives him pause, makes him hold his breath when he unwraps the bow around it.

The bronze key looks innocuous, but Liam knows better. He’s grown up with the stories, as many people have. Has been told about the keys, and that most people except for an unlucky few got one at birth. Some were immediately gifted to them by their parents, others had been kept away from them until such a time that they were deemed responsible enough to understand what it meant.

Because this kind of key, it doesn’t just open any door.

It reveals what you need most, when you need it most, and it can only be used once.

✨  it’s time to find your wings again Larry, 12k, T, written for the @wordplayfics​ challenge week 3

The first reports are dismissed, as tall tales or folklore. As mental illness, poor Bathilda, she’d gone loopy. As people simply getting scared in the dark woods and seeing things, making things up. Magic isn’t real. Mythological creatures aren't real.

But then the first one is caught. A faun, that little Meg from around the corner swears has attacked her in the woods, and everyone comes to the marketplace to see the faun be hanged for its crimes. Louis doesn’t want to go, but at the same time, he finds himself unable to stay away. Not when this proves what he’s wanted to believe all along, that magic is real.

*

Louis is twenty when he starts working at the prison. His fascination for supernatural creatures had turned into something most closely resembling loathing over the years, due to the many stories of their evildoing, and although he still doesn’t believe in hanging them for their crimes, he does believe in keeping the town safe. In making sure that his siblings get to grow up without fear of being kidnapped or hurt. As the oldest son, it feels like his duty to make sure that no creature in the wide area will ever pose a threat to anyone.

🍛  it’s a long shot just to beat these odds Ziam, 14k, T, written for the @wordplayfics​ challenge week 4

Zayn: how many years in prison would I get for murdering a popstar???

He scrapes the plates clean, resists the urge to kick the trash can, his breathing still feeling shallow and high in his chest. He wants a cigarette. And a cuddle from Louis. But a text is the most he can realistically ask for now, and luckily Louis doesn’t leave him hanging.

Louis: ?????

Okay, so it isn’t that helpful, but Zayn knows his anxiety well enough that just distracting his mind is usually enough to keep from having an actual attack. It doesn’t matter that the subject he’s discussing is the one thing his brain is actually panicking about, just trying to formulate words into a text is helping.

Zayn: I served him raw chicken. RAW. And he was kind enough to want to try and eat it too. I could have killed him!!!

That would’ve made headlines for sure. FORMER BOYBANDER GETS POISONED ON FIRST DATE, more on the ten p.m. news.

Louis: well that’s one way of making sure he’s not going to go on any of the other dates. Bit drastic though mate.

August:

💌  if you’re lost just look for me Larry, 9k, T, written for the @wordplayfics​ challenge week 5

Let your dreams set sail.

Louis blinks at the sticky note, sitting casually in between a flyer advertising an upcoming gig for one of the many bands on campus (the heavy metal graphics implying that the music is not to Louis’ taste) and an ad for a yoga club (Louis is going to have to give that one a miss too). It’s small, barely noticeable unless you’re paying attention, just tucked away as though it’s been left there for Louis to find.

He snorts. “Let your dreams set sail. What a fucking joke.”

*

Louis' first year of college is everything he had hoped for it to be.

It’s why it’s so hard to swallow that his second year is everything but.

*

A fic where motivational quotes, no matter how cheesy, might just make everything better after all.

💐  the birth of love like a force of nature Ziam, 22k, T, written for the @ziamfantasyfest​

After moving into a new house, Liam decides to introduce himself to the neighbours. The next thing he knows, he’s tied to a chair and threatened by a small army of fairies.

October:

👻  these days I watch you from afar Larry, 666 words, T, written for the @1dtrickortreatfest​

“Are you talking to me?”

The boy blinks, blue eyes thoughtful as he cocks his head. “Yeah?”

“You can see me?”

🎃  love me like we don’t have tomorrow Ziam, 666 words, T, written for the @1dtrickortreatfest​

"Are you going to see him again?" Louis asks. He’s sitting on a ruined wall, inspecting his long, dark nails. Talons, Zayn thinks. He nods.

“How many years in a row is this?”

Zayn glances at his best mate, doing up the buttons on his coat. “Dunno,” he says, even though he can recall, with perfect clarity, all the times he’s met up with Liam. Every Halloween that he’s spent with him.

"And he still doesn't know?"

☠️  be the end of me Zouis, 666 words, T, written for the @1dtrickortreatfest​

"Who are you?" Louis asks, and Zayn can tell that he already knows. He's tense, poised for a flight from the inevitable.

Zayn still answers. "Death."

December:

🎄  room for your love underneath this tree Larry, 11k, T, written for the @1dchristmasfest​

“IwannameetHarryStyles,” Daisy mumbles, and Louis blinks.

“What?”

“She says she wants to meet Harry Styles.” Phoebe pipes up, and Louis blinks again, absently switches the camera to himself because he knows that his followers will want to catch his baffled expression.

“You-” he starts, and then stops himself, because he did tell her she could ask for anything she wanted, and how can he go back on his word and tell her that he doesn’t actually have the power to make that happen?

Because Harry Styles is -- he’s next level kind of famous. Louis has two million subscribers on his YouTube, but Harry has eighteen times as many followers on his Twitter alone. He’s had three number one hits in the last year, and his last album had charted at the top spot for a record breaking 27 weeks. He’s a singer, actor and philanthropist, and there is no way in hell that Louis can get him to come meet Daisy for Christmas.

So of course he laughs, even if it’s a little bit breathless, and nods at her. “One Harry Styles for Christmas, coming right up.”

[keijikunn]

Rivalry ── Chapter III

── A @babythotshq collab “To All the Boys I’ve Loved”

Old feelings

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x gender neutral!reader Tags: college!au, angst, it’s kinda fluffy??? i don’t know, it’s not that angst either Summary: Tsukishima Kei had never imagined that you, his forever rival in high school, would write him a letter confessing your feelings. Does Tsukishima feels the same way? Word count: 3.7k

Author’s note: I’m dividing the last chapter in two, so I won’t be too long (trust me, it’s over than 6k and I wanna spare you all lol). Hope you all enjoy the chap III and I swear by the end of the month I’ll post the final part! Biggest thank you to @kaitycole​ and @newfriendjen​ that helped me out a lot, I love you two so much 🥺

WARNINGS: swearing, tsukki being salty but what’s new?, makeout (???), hints of anxiety

RIVALRY MASTERLIST

BECOME A BOOKWORM!

Ever since that… eventful day, you managed to avoid Tsukishima like the plague. It helped the fact you had classes in different buildings, not to mention the fact the college campus was huge. You were about to forget about the letter issue, as the courses have started a few days earlier and you dedicated most of your time to get things settled into a nice routine. Things were too good to be real, though. 

You couldn’t believe in what you saw the first time you stepped inside the extracurricular class, after the first week since classes started. Not only your love letters were sent to all your previous crushes (who seemed to attend the same college as you), but the person you dreaded to see again would spend the next semester with you during your afternoon activities. 

Tsukishima Kei smirked at your distressed expression, waving at you as if you were long time friends. He wants to irk you, Y/n, don’t give him this pleasure. You are better than him anyway, you repeated it as many times as possible before the bell rang - indicating the class was about to start. Fortunately you managed to sit on the opposite side of the room as Tsukishima, though you could feel his eyes burning holes on the side of your head. 

“Why is he so annoying?” You muttered to yourself, sighing in annoyance. The professor entered the classroom, quickly introducing himself and the upcoming project you would work on. You were excited for it when you researched about the university, it was as if a dream was coming true, and you made up your mind to not let Tsukishima Kei ruin this experience. 

“As always, we randomize the duos, so be prepared to work with someone who does things differently than you.” The old man at the front announced, and your guts were telling you that this wouldn’t be good. “Raise your hand if I call your name so your partner can find you.

The longer he took to call out your name, the more convinced you were that fate wouldn’t play nice with you. When the other two people left were paired up together, leaving you and Tsukishima without a partner, you had to hold the urge to scoff. As much as you tried your hardest to not bump into your old crush, the whole universe made sure to go against your will. 

I should have gone to another extracurricular activity, damn it.

“So… guess we’re a duo, now,” Tsukishima snickered at your disgusted face, laughing at your dismay. “It’s not that bad be paired up with me, Y/n, c’mon”

“You’re right, it’s not bad.” You started, sending him a sharp glare. “It’s the worst thing ever”

With that, you turned around to pay attention to the further details the professor addressed the class. You knew Kei would try to make your experience in this project a literal hell, but you weren't going to let his antics distract you from getting anything less than the best result. You internally hoped that the tall boy also aimed for that, despite his annoying demeanor around you.  

If not, you’d have a long semester ahead of you. 

“For God’s sake, Tsukishima, this is not how we’re supposed to do it!” You whisper-yelled at the blonde boy, angrily gripping on your hair, holding yourself back from screaming at his face. It has been two weeks since you two started working on that stupid project, and it’s been two weeks of complete hell and anger. Being at the college’s library didn’t help as well, since you couldn’t externalize your frustration.  “Can’t you read what I wrote down? Professor said we should follow this!”

“Yes, I’ve read it and decided that it sucks.” Tsukishima shot back, pushing away your notebook, writing a few words on your draft. “C’mon, Y/n, you should know by now that we don’t follow any professor’s instruction. We’re not at high school anymore, be more independent, won’t you?”

You hated to admit, but he was (at some instance) right. What hurt your pride more was that his suggestion was actually good- not that you would admit that, you’d rather die than say it out loud. This idea could easily work out with what you have thought previously, not to mention it would make more sense. 

The lack of response made Tsukishima’s shit-eating grin grow on his features, irking you the exact same way he knew he was able to. He proceeded to add a few details on the paper and neatly placed it inside his folder, collecting his materials from the table. You two have been workin for almost two hours non-stop on the project after the whole morning classes, you had to admit your energy wore off at that point.

“Give me the paper, I want to add a few extra things.” You demanded, holding out your hand for him. Tsukishima arched his eyebrows as if he was surprised by such a request, then he scoffed at you - like always. “I’m not joking, I do want to modify it a bit.”

“The point of this being a group project is that we work on this together.” He stressed the last word, zipping his bag and shoving it over his shoulder. “And you wouldn’t do anything, judging by how tired you are.”

“I’m not!” 

“Then care to explain how you didn't think about what I suggested earlier?” Suddenly your mind went blank at his response, what in the world does that mean? “You can think about this tomorrow, try not to melt your tiny brain.”

The tall boy left you without sparing a second glance, fumbling with his intertwined earphones as he walked. To say you were confused by his comment would be an understatement. Was he worried you would overwork yourself? No way, Tsukishima Kei would never care enough about you of all people. 

Yet he’s still your partner. 

“Fuck off, Tsukki.” You muttered tiredly, focusing on putting your belongings inside your backpack to (finally) head to your dorms.

The first time you’ve ever heard Tsukishima’s name was after the first exam of your freshman year in high school. Everyone was crying about their low grades, groaning at the prospect of having to study a lot more to the upcoming test. If you were not mistaken, a boy in your class named Yamaguchi commented how “Tsukki was smart” and he wasn’t surprised he aced it. 

“Hey, L/n!” The girl who sits next to you approached you, paper in her hands. “How did you do?”

“I got 96%.” You answered quietly, trying not to drag attention to yourself due to your great performance. People in middle school didn’t like when you mentioned your grades, claiming you did that just to brag. 

“Ehh? You’re so smart!” She said smiling. “Please, help me study! From what I heard just you and a boy from class 3 had such a high score. And Yamaguchi-kun said Tsukishima-kun doesn’t help anybody.”

“Of course, we can study at the library if you want to.” The offer seemed to appeal to her, given the fact she nodded quickly and proceeded to write down her cellphone number to you. “By the way, who is this Tsukishima guy?”

“He’s a tall, blonde boy. He uses glasses and if I’m not wrong he’s part of the volleyball club.” She answered, waving at you as she went back to her circle of friends, leaving you to think about who this boy is. “He’s not nice though. Always treats everyone as if he’s superior.”

You were able to put a face to the name you had in your mind after a couple of weeks, when another private school had a volleyball match against the male team of Hakone Academy. It wasn’t hard to figure out that the middle blocker with a poker face was Tsukishima, and you were surprised that he was actually good looking. Something that lacked in him, though, was passion in the sport - or rather in anything, according to your classmates. 

Ever since that game, it seemed like you started to see Tsukishima every day in the corridors. You’d see him walking down the halls, his headphones always placed on the top of his ears, muffling the loud noise caused by the other students. He was cold to everybody, even rude if you were to be honest, but he was something else. His interests were inviting, itching your curiosity to get to know him better.

You realized you had a crush on Tsukishima Kei when you noticed how you paid attention to whenever you saw him around school, hearing his steady tone (usually talking to Yamaguchi) and his snarky smirk. All information you knew about him was, being honest, too little to grow intense feelings, but what got you hooked up was exactly this: you wanted to get to know him. 

Things, however, didn’t work out the way you planned. The very first interaction you had with him was a disaster. You sounded way cockier than you wanted, you’ve never planned on teasing him and you have never imagined that it would backfire on you and lead him to dislike you.

After that incident, you discovered the aversion quite a lot of students had against him. Most of them claimed the same thing: Tsukishima Kei was mean, smug, had a superiority complex and always treated everyone poorly. A part of you didn’t want to believe in that, but how could you not when he mocked you in front of everyone?

Things didn’t get easier as the project progressed, not because it was too technical or that it required too many details. Yours and Tsukishima’s endless arguments and bickering always ended in screaming matches, hurtful comments and you two not on speaking terms. The premise of group projects was to create something together, but at this point you were doing your own thing while thinking about what the other was working on. 

“Are you a dumbass or do you just pretend to be one?” Tsukishima angrily asked, dropping your notebook on the table. “This is horrible, Y/n.”

“You think it’s horrible because you’re doing things as you wish, not considering what I have to suggest!” You responded, your voice tone a few octaves higher due to your stress. Currently you two were at his dorms - the library was not an option anymore, the librarian kicked you out after you were shouting at each other - both awfully close as his dining table was tiny. “This is a fucking group project, you said it before! So you have to listen to what I have to say.”

“I’m not listening when you suggest stupid things like this!” He retorted, ripping the page out and crumpling it to toss on the floor. You widen your eyes, shocked at his recent action. 

“Wow, Tsukishima, you are really being this petty.” A humorless laugh escaped your lips, you shook your head in denial, getting up to collect your paper off the ground. The tension in the air grew thicker and the man’s intense gaze burned holes on your back. “People were right, after all. You are unbearable.”

Tsukishima’s smug facade cracked a bit, you noticed, after hearing what you just said. His smirk left his face for a brief moment and his eyes mirrored mixed feelings, could they be sorrow, insecurity? You didn’t have enough time to decipher them as he quickly recomposed himself, offering you a snark grin. 

“That’s why you liked me, huh? Did you want to correct the horrible, mean, malicious person that I am?” Tsukishima teased, hitting your emotions with ease. Your mind was empty, only his words echoing inside it, bumping into your skull with force. 

You couldn’t understand him, honestly. 

One time he is all worried about you overworking, passively aggressively implying you’re capable of suggesting better ideas; and now he’s being childish and not sparing a single offense towards you. You knew Tsukishima Kei was a hard person to handle if you’re not as quick witted as him, but this? This level of pettiness and stubbornness? For a young adult like him, that claims he’s better than everyone else? 

“I’m done.” You stated, too burnt out to respond to his teasing comment. Your temples hurt due to the confusion the blond man was giving you, the constant push and pull between you two worn you out. 

“What do you mean ‘you’re done’? We’re not done yet.” He stated as if it was a matter of fact - which was, he wasn’t wrong. 

“Do I look like I care? I’m doing this shit by myself, you can do whatever you want, I’m done with you.” Silence engulfed the room, and you mentally thanked this peaceful moment. It, however, didn’t last long, because Tsukishima always finds ways to make things worse. 

“Are you giving up that easy, Y/n? Couldn’t handle a bit of teasing?” That was it. The mocking tone he used against you was enough to snap the last string of sanity inside you, freeing a rage you never knew you had against him. The angriness burned your chest as you slammed your hands on the table, making Tsukishima flinch at the sudden outburst. 

“Yes, I can not deal with your teasing ass.” You admitted shamesly, your mind ran a thousand miles a minute, not registering the words that left your mouth. “What I can’t deal  with is a petty boy that can’t take this goddamn project seriously!”

“It wasn’t me who suggested stupid ideas.” Kei spat back, leaning in your direction, inviting you to answer him - almost like a dare. 

“You always say my ideas are vain, stupid or whatever, but you never offered anything great or fucking brilliant,” it was indeed true. Tsukishima proudly belittled everything you said for the past few weeks, but never came up with something new. Instead, he modified everything you’ve given to him. “So please, before you put yourself above the others, do something that makes you actually the best-”

Any and every train of thought you had was interrupted by the aggressive contact of Tsukishima Kei’s lips against yours. Everything seemed to melt with the heat coming from the kiss, your hands sneaking behind his neck and gripping rather harshly at his blond hair. In between the feverish moment, Tsukki managed to sit you on the table and place himself between your legs. Gasps and soft murmurs interrupted the kiss every once in a while, your mouth occasionally made its way down his jaw and neck, nibbling and sucking his skin.Only until one of you reconnected them, tongues sliding against each other.

You honestly don’t know how long you two spent making out, but it was enough time to leave a few hickeys on each other's necks and clothes lightly pulled up. Tsukishima’s ears were as red as his swollen lips, the blond hair was a mess thanks to your roaming hands and the white t-shirt wrinkled.

“Still think I don’t suggest brilliant ideas?” Tsukishima teased, but the embarrassment he was feeling was written all over his face. To say you were speechless was an understatement, you’ve just had a full make out section with your biggest high school rival, the one you knew hated you the most. “Cat got your tongue? Or should I say- did I get your tongue, Y/n?”

“What the fuck did you just do, Tsukishima?” You demanded flustered, the feeling of his body close to yourself fading away. "Why have you done this?!" 

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy, Y/N, I can feel the spot you left a hickey on." His comment made you groan in annoyance, because you knew you wouldn't be able to retort it. 

Not paying attention to your surroundings, you pushed Tsukishima away from you, quickly grabbing your bag to leave his dorms. You didn't mind if you forgot something at his place - you would see him the next day, anyway. All you wanted was to get away from him, to finally think straight.

The cool air of the end of the day would help you come back to a reasonable state of mind.

You kept acting around Tsukishima after the first encounter. Whenever you had the chance to irk him you did it, initiating an unnecessary banter. You felt stupid to say the least, how low could you go? 

Yet, you continued. Just to have his attention. Pathetic. However, you had a limit. And Tsukishima managed to trespass it with such facility you were surprised. 

It happened during your second year, exactly one year after you got so interested in that mean boy. Things weren't easy for you, many reasons were behind your unstable state. School was overwhelming like never before, you could barely juggle between regular activities and your club's. 

The stress weighted on you to the point you let your grades slip at one exam. You knew you had your worst performance so far, and the subject didn't help you as well. 

"I'm going to hand back the exams." Your homeroom teacher announced, earning heavy groans from the whole class. A sigh escaped your lips, knowing how screwed you were if Tsukishima knew how poorly you did. "L/n Y/n" 

As you got up from your desk, you felt a familiar pair of eyes burn holes on your back. The moment you read the barely 50% score written on the top of the paper, you blanked out. You missed how your teacher kindly smiled at you, reminding how this one performance didn't define you. The words didn't make sense to you, because for you it didn't matter. You failed. 

Tears pricked the corner of yours eyes, shallow breaths escaped your parted lips as you sat down once again, barely sparing a glance at the paper on your desk. You truly didn’t know if someone tried to approach you, mind far away from reality, engulfing itself in a spiral of self doubt, worries and self depreciation. 

“Well… looks like the top 2 student failed miserably on the test.” The steady, yet teasing tone of Tsukishima’s voice broke you out of your own head. “You’re fake, couldn’t even get more than half of it correct. You’re a lie, Y/n.”

“Not now, please.” It took most part of your will to mutter these three words without letting your voice crack. Tsukishima arched his eyebrows, amused by the scene unfolding in front of him: you lowering your head against your forearms on the table, shielding your tears from anyone. “Tease me all you want, but please do it another time.”

However, he kept going. Tsukishima pointed out every single question you got wrong, rubbing in your face how he aced another stupid paper while you were a failure. The classroom was noisy, the end of the period let the students talk freely, but you only heard Kei’s voice, adding to your pre-existent stress and pressure. 

As far as you could remember, you’ve never underestimated him in any interaction you two had. Sure, you threw a teasing comment every once in a while, but always bragging about yourself, how you’ve outsmarted him. But you were sure you never humiliated him - and you’d never do such a low blow like this. 

“Enough, Tsukishima!” You raised your voice, everyone now was paying attention to you two. The embarrassment heated your entire face and your tears finally ran down your cheeks, the blond boy seemed startled with your sudden outburst, though his smirk quickly returned to your face. “I got that you’re better, now can you please shut the fuck up?!”

Thankfully the bell rang, indicating classes were over for the day. You quickly shoved your test on your bag, throwing it over your shoulder as you turned to head to the door. With the sleeve of your coat, you wiped the reminiscent tears from your eyes and left the room. Not only you exited that suffocating place, but also you left behind the stupid crush you had on Tsukishima Kei. 

Since that day, you couldn’t stand being near him, all teasing interactions reduced to none and you’ve never checked the scoreboard as soon as the grades were out. You focused on your own stuff, trying your best to clear your thoughts from Tsukishima - which didn’t work as well as you planned. 

Every once in a while, in the middle of a studying session, you found yourself pushing your limits like you used to do to get a higher performance than him. As much as you hated to admit, Tsukishima was a great incentive to do better, to set higher goals academically speaking. And though he caused you a lot of pain, a part of you (the stupid one, in your words) still thought he was attractive, you still had a tiny interest in the true guy behind that acting. 

That’s why you decided to write him that letter. Perhaps admitting your “crush” on him would make you realize you’ve created almost an entire new person using his name and face. In a way it actually helped, you truly thought you have moved on from him and college would give you a new beginning away from Tsukishima. 

Fate, on the other hand, had other plans for you and here you are: walking slowly towards your dorms, emotionally drained and confused. The prospect of Tsukishima Kei having the slightest interest in you was shocking, especially after all those three years of. endless insults. 

Are those feelings coming back? 

“Oh, no.” You muttered to yourself, immediately stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, frightened about your last thought. “Oh my, there’s no way I’m crushing Tsukishima once again!” 

If you concentrated enough, you could still feel his chapped lips against your skin, his large hands roaming through your body. He was right about you enjoying it- in reality, you did more than you’d like to admit. Tsukishima Kei was annoyingly filling your mind with both his smart and arrogant ass and that unexpected (but surprising) heated moment. 

You needed to get to your dorms and take a long shower to put your thoughts in order, because there’s no way you’re having feelings for Tsukishima Kei once again.

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[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Distance Series-Epilogue

Thanks again to everyone that suggested ideas for this series! It was a joy to collaborate with you all! We’ll have to do this again sometime. 

Here’s my Main Masterlist

Here’s the Distance Series Masterlist

“Look who it is, Duke,” Calum coos, lifting the dog into the frame. “Look who it is.” Duke flicks his gaze at the camera, just for a second before turning his head back towards Calum. She laughs, adjusting her headphones on her head. She double checks, she has her printed out tentative schedule with the release of her album and the upcoming tour dates. Some haven’t been confirmed yet just because she hasn’t talked to Calum yet. “Duke, I’m not who you’re supposed to be looking at.”

“Oh, the man’s old just in love with his pops. It’s understandable,” she returns, grinning. 

Calum nods, settling Duke into his lap for the time being. “I’m shocked you’re home still.” It’s nine in the morning his time, which is about noon for her. He expected her to at least be at the studio space for rehearsals by now, sneaking off for lunch and to take his call. Not for her to still be dressed in her pj’s curled up in the high chairs at her kitchen table. 

“Self care day that I needed to take.”

“What’s going on? Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Mostly just fitting time in to see you is my biggest concern.” With her album heading out for the world, she knows the whirlwind that waits for her. Prior to now things were a tad easier, Calum’s touring was packed kind of tight but she wasn’t traveling. Her brand deals were all complete and the album just waiting in the wings, already finished. So she could hop on a plane when he had a couple days off. Now things are gearing up to be tight for her and Calum’s schedule has slowed down. Though she knows most of his time now will be album focused. 

“We could’ve moved this up a day or two if you needed.”

“It’s a little too late for that, but it wasn’t as bad as before. I know things are gonna be better scheduled now. It’s okay.”

She’s right about it being too late now. But he’s still a little ticked that she didn’t say anything sooner. And she can see it. He raises that left eyebrow at her and before he can open her mouth, she’s already talking. “I know, I know. Communication! At this point, I need it tattooed to my fucking forehead. I didn’t want you to freak out or try to squeeze it in sooner into our schedules when the talk was already going to happen.”

He nods. She’s aware. Which is better than nothing. But he still doesn’t like the fact she holds some stuff in. Maybe in a way, that’s a thing he has to learn to love. But at the same time, he doesn’t want it to be the thing that consistently causes them issues. It would obviously be easy if she moved to LA, or closer to his side of the coast at the very least. But they’ve learned to make it work. Extra flights out when they both have a pocket of time to really enjoy each other’s company. “I just worry about you that’s all. You can get in your own head. But I’m here for you.”

“I know, I really do. I just hate to be a burden, ya know? When there’s like 8 billion other things to worry about. I’m sorry.”

He nods, fingers working over the top of Duke’s head. “I am glad you took the day off though. It’s good that you saw you needed a break and didn’t let it continue to bubble and lead to something bad. I’m proud.”

A tiny grin dances across her face. “Thanks. I’m working on it.”

“I can see the progress.” Duke stands, head pointed to the floor and Calum lowers him back to the floor. He only goes a couple feet to snuggle up with his favorite dinosaur toy on his dog bed. There’s practically one in every part of the house. Even if Calum tries not to spoil the old man, he can’t help it.

“There’s a writing retreat,” Calum starts once they start discussing plans in October. Not a huge touring season but he knows he has some time off. “It’s like three weeks long, up in Malibu. And I know like it’s not the mountains, but if you have time off, I would love to bring you along.”

“Wouldn’t you be working? I don’t want to interrupt, baby.”

Her genuine concern is endearing but he knows she’s not quite picking up what he meant. With a quick smile, Calum shakes his head. “No, I mean like, I want you to come write with us. Or like maybe we could work on something together, if you want. The producers we’re linking up with I think would be a great fit for you and your work. And like, spending time with my girl and possibly getting a song or two done seems like a great compromise.”

“Oh. What are the dates?” Calum lists them off. The first week is a bit of a wash because she has studio time booked but the last two weeks are completely open for her. “So I guess I’ll be seeing you in your element,” she teases. 

“Oh, it’s not that impressive, really.”

“No, you’re pretty impressive if you ask me. Or Duke. But I think we might be biased.”

His giggles echo in her headphones and he hides himself by kissing the top of Duke’s head. He picked the dog back up halfway through their conversation and Duke seems content to sit right there in his pops arms too. “You’re gonna make me blush,” he squeaks out. 

“Oh, your cheeks have already told on you, my dear. They have already told on you.”

__________________________________________

The bus lurks beneath her, riding from one festival to the next. She knows she could’ve flown. But she likes the bus. Once they hit the highway, it just glides and she doesn’t have to think too much. She has exactly 66 more days until she’s home again. Which puts her at 71 more days until she flies out to see Calum. He’s still in LA with a glance to her phone, she tries to calculate the time, her own mind a little foggy. If he’s asleep, he just won’t answer. That’s fine. His voicemail has the sound of his own voice and that’s really all she needs right now. 

Tucked under her sheets, as rocking with the motion of the bus again, she raises her phone to her ear, listening as it rings. It rings and then rings and rings. Finally Calum’s voice kicks in from his voicemail. “Sorry I can’t reach the phone. Please leave a message and I’ll get back as soon as I can.”

The phone’s silent just a moment and there’s a beep. “I’m sorry to do this right now. Just needed to hear your voice. It sucks being away. I’m excited for the retreat though. Can’t wait to squish your cheeks. Can’t wait to kiss you. Yeah, just had to get that off my chest, I guess. I should be sleeping. I’m on the bus at the moment and my body is tired. Mind was just heavy. I hope you had a good day, or having a good day, or a great night. I don’t remember the time difference anymore.” Her soft laughter interupts her. “That’s sad isn’t it? The only thing keeping me sane right now are your daily updates. And well, the pictures of my dog from my friend. So two things. Wait, no, Duke. That’s three. Ah, what does it matter to know how to count right now? I love you.” She pauses. They haven’t said that to each other yet. And the moment feels a little ruined because it’s not even to his face. But it’s so true, she does love him. She worries if he’s eating alright and worried he’s sleeping okay. “I’m blessed to have you in my life. And I really hope we get years and years together. Uh, tell the guys I said hi. Give Duke kisses from me. Talk to you later.”

When Calum gets to his phone, up way too late and thumping over a bassline and general anxiety, he spies the voicemail. He grins, knowing it’s better to wait until after his shower and after he’s gotten comfortable in the bed. He plugs his phone into the charger, behind his bedside table and rests on his side. Her voice is soft as he listens to the playback. Like she had her cheeks smashed into the pillows. It makes him a little sad that he missed her call, knowing that she just needed to talk to him. 

It’s been an hour since she called. And maybe she’s still awake. He contemplates stopping the playback and just giving her a ring but then, quietly he hears her say, “I love you.” And his heart stops. His fingers tremble resting against his chest. Her confession continues and Calum can feel his eyes welling with tears. He sniffles once, listening as the voicemail ends. He plays it back one more time, skipping ahead to her statement. 

And before his fingers can stop him, before he can over rationalize that she’s sleeping and needs her rest. Her phone rings. His heart thunders. “Is everything okay?” she rushes out. Her voice is grovely, like she just woke up. 

“I love you,” he whispers. “I’m sorry if I woke you. But I didn’t want to wait a second more to tell you that in return. And I’m not saying it just because you said, I mean it. It’s why I’m like so on you about taking care of your mental health.”

And their breathing crackles through their receivers. “Not being able to kiss you right now should honestly be a crime,” she returns, the first one to say anything. 

Calum exhales his laughter. “Not being able to kiss you is a crime.”

“You cannot just one up me like that, Hood. That’s so not fair!”

_______________________________

Poised at the piano, she lets her fingers brush over the keys but doesn’t press down into them. Her fingertips are aching. They want to get something out, but her brain’s not computing it, it’s not able to output it correctly. Slender fingers slide in from her peripheral, and slowly get closer before covering her eyes. “Guess who?” Calum whispers next to her ear. It sends a shiver down her spine. 

“You’re supposed to be getting food,” she laughs, fingers still resting on the keys. 

“I did. But clearly you don’t want to leave this piano.”

Reclining his chest, she presses down. The sound swells and it’s grating but never of them care too much, laughing as she lifts her digits and slides out from the bench. When they join the rest of the retreat in the kitchen, they linger against the counter, plates in hand, shoulder to shoulder. After snagging one of her fries, Calum grins and kisses her. “My team and I are looking at some different options,” she starts, placing the spoon into her bowl of soup. 

“Different options?”

“I love New York. I really do. But we’re looking at the fact that a lot of the producers that want to work with me and that I want to work with are pulling more from LA.  And I could continue to live in New York and fly out. But it’s a hassle. And it puts me closer to you, so I’ve been looking at some places. I can’t quite afford a place on my own just yet, but--”

“You could stay with me. And like, if you really, really, want your own space, I absolutely understand. But if you need to lay low for a little bit before then, my door’s always open.”

She rests her head on his shoulder. “I figured you’d say that. I have a place in mind but the bassist in my band needs a place too. Our drummer has her girlfriend so I agreed that she could crash with me. It’s nothing against you.”

Calum places his meal down and lifts her chin. “No, I get it. Gives your space, allows you to get acclimated without the pressure of me around. It’s smart.”

“But, I will absolutely be bugging the shit out of you to take Duke out on walks and hikes.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”  

When they return to the room, she settles ready to help the boys with the latest song. But in the back of my mind, she can feel the notes twitching her fingers. So she stands, tip toeing into  the other room, and settles back down at the piano. She takes her phone and opens it up to record. Whatever is brewing in her brain she wants to get it recorded. She plucks at the keys, eyes closing to keep herself from thinking too hard. 

Soon, she can hear a rumble. She knows it’s Calum. They’ve been working on the melody all morning. But now it seems to be coming together. He hums. She’s been working on more experimental/instrumental work. Less about lyrics, though sometimes a refrain comes to mine and they sing. It’s more about the feeling, allowing the notes to express the emotions that are just below the surface, that are trying to break through the surface. 

Calum listened to the first couple of tracks she’s produced since the beginning of the week and he suggested she play something on the piano. She thought it would be a long shot. But now, as she listens to the twinkling keyes hugged up against the throaty bass, she’s pretty impressed. There’s nothing heavily prescribed and it’s nice to just make noise. It’s nice to know even if it sounds bad it’s just for fun. It’s just to see what they can do with the tools at their disposal. They play for what feels like just a blimp in time, hardly a blink, and she thinks her fingers might be cramping too. But she carries onto the end, letting everything out. 

And with a slight echo Calum finishes a beat or two behind her. They pause but she can see on his face that he’s not quite done so she nods, wanting him to continue. He almost doesn’t, almost tells her it’s her project but there’s something still on his chest, so he keeps plucking at the strings. She listens to him, eyes closing and grins at the sounds he’s able to produce just off the top of his head. 

It’s another minute or two he finishes and she pauses the recording on her phone. The mic on her phone probably won’t do it justice, but she plays it back, at full volume, setting her phone on the table between them. The playback is a little soft and the piano almost sounds like it’s peaking. She almost wishes she had someone else to set up the room to record, but it all happened so fast. 

“Sounds really good,” Calum returns. 

“Not too bad,” she jokes, taking her phone once it’s done.

“I really think this project is really cool. I don’t know if you’ll ever put it or anything. But I really think you’ve got something special.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re on the project.” If it weren’t for the bass in Calum’s hand, she would’ve playfully shoved him. Calum glowers at her, just for a moment and she giggles running down the hallway. 

“I’m going to remember that tonight!”

She stops, jaw dropping. “You gotta put me out the room, Calum? Make me sleep on the sofa?”

“I just might,” he returns. 

“You don’t have the gall. Gonna cuddle Michael in the place of me?”

Calum cracks open the door, slowly. “Don’t go give me any ideas. He’s not mean to me.”

She holds the door open, allowing Calum to get back into the room without nicking the instrument. “Well, I hope he keeps you warm.”

The group turns to them. But Calum’s facing her. Her upturned nose, arms folded across her chest. There’s a playful twinkle in her eyes. “Michael, I’m bunking in your room tonight.”

“That just means I get the whole mattress to myself,” she returns. 

“O-okay,” Michael returns just as Calum calls out, “Never mind, Michael. I can’t let her win.”

She laughs, wrapping her arms around his torso, pressing her face into his back. “It’s about compromise and communication.” A famous phrase with Calum and he knows it. His fingers wrap around her wrist. For a moment, it’s just them in the room. Her listening to his heart beating and him feeling the rise and fall of her chest before he speaks. 

“So we just put together something amazing.”

“If this is how you announce a baby,” Ashton teases. “I’ll be disappointed at that phrasing but very happy to be an uncle. I think I’ve got great potential.”

“Hmm, does a song count as a baby in this context?” Calum asks, giggling at Ashton’s comment. 

“Not quite what I was hoping for, but I’ll take it.” 

[marlahey]

wsitd part fifteen (sneak peek)

a shawn mendes rpf fic rating/warnings: can anyone tell I still find fandom really annoying misc notes: so...hello again. literally so much has happened since the last time you saw me, so much that all I can really say at this point is that I hope you’re all safe and well, despite everything. I swore I wouldn’t abandon this fic and I haven’t! thank god for that. I wish I could’ve finished it for today as planned, but my job’s been nuts for the last few weeks and it totally ruined my writing mojo. in any case, here’s the first last ~3k of we stumbled in the dark. happy second birthday, wsitd. I can’t believe how old you are, suddenly. thank you to everyone who’s messaged me over the last little while and especially in the last few months when this last part was only like 300 words deep and felt so vast and scary. I can’t tell you how much your support has meant to me.  (oh and pls just pretend for the sake of an upcoming scene not found here, Taylor’s Lover is already out in the world. just– just pretend. you’ll see.)  so without further ado:  (previously; start at part one here; find all parts here) (toronto; now) Shawn wants to FaceTime. Slide to answer.

His voice appears first. “Before you say anything, it’s not as bad as it looks.” “What–” You straighten automatically. “Shawn? Are you okay?” Bruises. On his beautiful face. Bruises and a tiny cut below his left eye, the beginnings of a scab along his jaw. Shawn’s rueful expression calms the start of your heart, like jumper cables jolting a battery into a steady rhythm. “I’m an idiot.” “What happened?” you demand, trying not to sound shrill or hysterical. He’s not dying. But his face. “You’re going to laugh at me.” “I won’t.” You’re too glad to hear from him – it’s been two weeks of rain checks and brief goodnight calls. Shawn sighs. The soft light of whatever room he’s in makes his features hazy. It’s late in Nashville. “I fell off a Bird.” “A what now?” “It’s a…” Shawn chuckles like he knows what he’s about to say sounds ridiculous. “Like a motorized scooter?” “Is that even a thing?” Your phone pings with messages: too-high, too-bright angles of him grinning, one hand on the handlebars of said motorized scooter, shots from behind of Parker and Geoff that are too blurry to be Kelsey’s work. Your heart pangs. “So totally worth it, huh?” He laughs. “Yes. Absolutely. I just wanted to tell you first before I like, story it or whatever. Didn’t want you to worry.” “Aren’t you performing? That country music thing?” “Tomorrow,” Shawn nods. You’re too late to conceal your wince. “National television, I know.” “Good thing you’re not just a pretty face?” He laughs so hard that he tips out of frame. Joy blooms inside your chest. “Ow. I think I bruised a rib. Damn El, way to kill a guy’s ego.” “Yeah,” you retort, “because your ego definitely needs taking down a peg.” It’s so easy with him. Somehow you’d forgotten that, amidst everything. A strange kind of sadness sticks in your throat. It clearly shows on your face because Shawn tilts his head. “What is it?” You almost say, nothing. “I miss you,” comes out instead. It feels like weakness, this honesty. You couldn’t really articulate why. “I’m sorry, I–” “I miss you too.” Shawn cuts you off so rarely in conversation that you genuinely stop out of surprise. His smile softens, oddly serious, as though he can hear the lost words: I know I put us here. “Every day.” There’s nothing accusatory in it, nothing reluctant or angry. Shawn says, I miss you, like he’d say, I love this song, with unequivocal certainty and ease. How can you feel better and worse at the same time? “One day at a time, right?” Shawn says gently. You nod. It’s what you agreed, after all. “You should get some rest,” you say. “Near death scooter experiences have to be exhausting.” Shawn snorts, his laugh crinkling around his eyes. It settles you in a way that you have to hang onto, in the days to come. “You sure you’re okay?” you ask, partly so he can’t pose the question himself. “Totally fine, El. I promise.” He’s giving you the out and you both know it. Shawn’s fingertips brush the edges of his camera, like he’s reaching for you through it. (He’s probably just adjusting his grip, but it’s a nice thought nonetheless.) “Call me tomorrow?” he asks. “We have the day off. Maybe we can watch a movie or something.” “Sure. Sweet dreams.” Shawn never hangs up first. He’s always still looking when you end the call, like he’ll never be able to stare for long enough. *

(new york; then) You If you only had one day in NYC what would you guys do with it?

Parker How much time are we talking actually? You As of right now?  Charlie Precision is essential Sinclair. You 37 hours. I’m on the red-eye out tomorrow. You Already packing. No one asks why, though you’re sure there are questions. The band doesn’t voice them in the group chat, much to your relief. Geoff Sophie’s all over it. Have you guys eaten dinner? Shawn Nope, cancelled our reservation last minute. Geoff Be ready in 45. Coming to get you. Brian PIZZA. PIZZA. PIZZA. Suddenly there’s like a hundred pizza emojis blowing up your phone. You’re still laughing when Ava comes to check on you. The laughing might become crying but no one needs to know that. * (toronto; now) “I’ve been thinking about getting another tattoo.” “Oh yeah?” You’d nearly forgotten how much you miss home. High Park in the spring may not be Hyde or Central, but it’s yours all year round – even if you missed cherry blossom season by a mere two weeks. You’ve been lamenting it for three minutes, Shawn mhmm-ing in your ear at appropropriate intervals. He’s in a park too, a brief respite from rehearsal. It’s nice to trade photos of the view and pretend to be together. Tell me something new, you’d asked. This qualifies. “Is this another impulsive itch?” “I thought you liked my little meditative man!” “Oh I love it,” you assure him. You can picture Shawn’s false offense so clearly, struggling not to grin like a loon in front of an eldery couple sitting on a bench as you walk past. “I’ll never forget how terrible you and Brian are at it, and I love that you now have matching tattoos as a permanent reminder.” Shawn mhmm’s again, like he doesn’t believe you. Your cheeks hurt from trying not to laugh. “I’ve thought about it, you know.” “What, meditating?” “No you goof.” You lose that fight against a giggle, a stupid smile. “I mean, nothing against meditating. I’m sure my therapist would recommend it.” “Okay, so what have you thought about?” It sounds just suggestive enough – even in broad daylight at two in the afternoon – that a shiver races up your spine. He doesn’t mean that. But now that the idea’s in your head, you’ve definitely thought about that. “El? You still there?” “Yes!” you say, a little too high pitched. You have to clear your throat. “Hi. I meant a tattoo. I’ve been thinking about a tattoo.” Shawn mutters something too low to catch, your attention caught by laughing children chasing each other across the grass. “Sorry, what was that?” “Nothing.” He’s a terrible liar, but you let it slide. “That’s awesome! Do you know what? Or where? How is this the first I’m hearing of this?” Fondness for him swells like a wave. You shrug before you remember Shawn can’t see you. “I think I just wanted to put a lot of thought into my first one. Not...jinx it, or something? You have to be 18 right, so I figured if I still wanted it by my birthday that I’d just…” “Just what?” You swallow around a sudden knot. How the hell do people maintain long distance for years at a time? This feels like agony. “Get it when we came home from tour. I was gonna… I was gonna ask you to come with me.” “I still could, if you want.” “You’re only home a few days,” you object, half surprised even as the words leave your mouth. “You promised your parents you’d spend that time with them.” “Are you planning on getting a massive sleeve or something, El?” You snort. “No. I just...I know how precious your time at home is to you.” Shawn doesn’t say anything for a moment. Anxiety drops like a stone in your stomach. “I mean, if you get it soon, it’ll be pretty much healed by the time I’m back in the city. Might be a good idea.” You wish sometimes he wouldn’t let you off the hook so easily. “And if you were really mean, you wouldn’t even tell me what it was and I’d have to wait forever to find out.” “I haven’t completely decided yet,” you admit. “I know the artist I’d love though, down on Bathurst. I’ve been stalking her Instagram for like two years. I’ll send it to you.” “Can’t wait. I gotta go, I’m back at the venue. But I’ll call you later?” “See you Shawn. Have a great show.” “And El?” “Hmm?” “Unless you’re planning on getting it like, down your spine or something, it doesn’t hurt as much as everyone says. I dunno how much that scares you, but...it shouldn’t. You’re like, one of the bravest people I know.” A pause, in which you genuinely don’t know what to say. “That’s kinda dramatic. It’s not like, war or something. God. You know what I mean right? It’s really not that bad, I promise.” You haven’t cried in nineteen days. You’re not starting now. “Yeah. Thank you.” I love you. You’ve been swallowing those words for so long and you have no idea why. *

@lightsshawn: she’s gone guys we did it @cruelsummermp3: did what? @dancingwithshawn: got rid of ellie - she hasn’t been seen in three weeks! @afterglow: what the fuck is wrong with you guys? * Shawn For the record I said “Fuck that’s hot.” Shawn And then I thought it might be Shawn Too much. You Not too much at all. You Definitely not.

*

(new york; then) “Next!”

“I never thought I’d be so happy to line up for pizza.” You’re shoulder to shoulder with other patrons in Prince Street Pizza, inhaling the delicious scents of dough and cheese with Kelsey, Kristin, and Ava. The boys have bee-lined for the first available table that’s definitely too small for all of you, while Ava points out all the famous faces that line the walls beneath fairy lights. “I’m glad you’re here,” you tell her, barely loud enough over the din. Your sister just squeezes you gently. “Remind me to print some photos and buy some lights when I get home. I’m really digging this vibe.” “Think you’d get some use out of this?” Sometimes you could swear Ava’s purses are like Mary Poppins’.

“What the– when did you get that?” “From your Amazon wishlist, silly.” Your sister presses an Instax camera into your bewildered hands. “They’re cheaper here. I thought it might…” Ava’s smile softens. “Ease the sting a little. Be a nice project for your room? And I didn’t want you to lose that photography spark.” Not crying. “Did you put film in this already?” Ava nods. “Have at ‘er. Tonight seems like a good night.” You throw your arm around her neck, pointing the camera at your faces, twisting away from the people in line just behind you. The flash is so bright but it hurts in a way that’s almost sweet. “Next!” As predicted, there’s definitely not enough room at the table when you and the other women arrive with The Fancy Prince and a Spicy Spring pizzas. Shawn waves wordlessly towards him, sliding from the absurdly tall chair to offer it to you. As you clamber up, his arm snakes back around your chair and he steps back closer to you. On the outset it’s a space saving measure. But Shawn seems pretty comfortable eating with you essentially tucked against him. You can’t say you mind either. *

They sneak you into a bar.

(or more operatively, Kelsey slides a fake ID into your back pocket on the subway platform while you’re timing a shot of the train arriving. You gawk at it so long that you nearly trip through the doorway. It’s identical to your Ontario license – so much so that you have to check your wallet to make sure you haven’t irresponsibly lost your ID – save your birth year. Ava pointedly avoids your eyes. “Did you have something to do with the fact that I’m suddenly magically 21?” you ask Shawn. Just as he was pleased to eat pizza in close proximity, Shawn seems delighted to wrap his fingers just a few inches above yours around the centre pole inside the subway car. Looking up at him now, you know with a striking certainty that you’ll never tire of it either: the sharing space, the strokes of intimacy that seem so carefully brushed when you touch – incidental seconds hiding more yearning that you thought yourself able to feel. (You wonder if it’s mutual. You hope so.) Shawn just raises his eyebrows, reaching for the card between your fingers, but you jerk it back. “Oh no way are you seeing my driver’s photo.” “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he says, reaching into his back pocket. Shawn tightens his grip against the pole, stepping even closer as the car shifts back and forth. Something in your gut wants to flush at his words but he’s already extending an identical card to you, unabashed. The voice inside your head that used to see wanting whenever he looked at you now speaks in insistent imperatives: want. want. want. “Shawn Mendes.” You lower your voice in mock shock. “Are you telling you have–” you cast a furtive glance around the subway car, and he chuckles– “a fake ID?” Shawn tips his chin down towards you so that his mouth nearly touches your temple. “Don’t tell, El.” (You do flush this time, damn him.) The youthfulness of his face on his license startles you in a strange way. You forget sometimes that despite the two-ish years (and entire career) between you that makes Shawn feel much older sometimes, twenty isn’t exactly ancient. He can’t even legally drink tonight, for Pete’s sake. “You’re so cute,” he says quietly, like a secret. Your cheeks are hot when he hands you the counterfeit back to you. “And no, nothing to do with me.” “Will this even work? Don’t people get their licenses stolen by bars all the time because Americans don’t understand the concept of different countries?” Shawn shrugs. “Guess we’ll find out.”) You don’t end up needing the fake in a stroke of good luck, but it burns a hole in your pocket nonetheless. (Kristin hands you a red lipstick as you stand in line – “Just in case we gotta sell it.”; it makes Shawn double take in the reflection of the window.) Sophie exchanges pleasantries with the doorman at Hollow Nickel and he waves the group inside to a modest weekday crowd. “We got the first round,” says Geoff. Brian and Charlie blow a series of kisses. “Love you too, dorks.” Sophia returns with two bottles of red and a question in her eyes, to which Ava says, “Fries for everyone?” “Hear hear!” Parker tips his beer. “Got a toast in you, Sinclair?” “A toast?” All evening you’ve been thinking about Paris. And as everyone looks with warm expectancy, you finally have the words you didn’t then. “My birthday was one of the most memorable nights of my life. And I think I was worried that it was the only night like that I’d ever have. But it wasn’t really the city that I loved.” You can’t look right at Shawn. “Thank you.” You lift your glass. “For making that night and every night of this amazing journey so wonderful. I know we’ll see each other again, but I guess – we have tonight, and we’ll always have Paris. I love you guys so much.”

Not crying. “To you Sinclair!” Charlie tilts his bottle with a grin. “We’ll miss ya.” The sound of everyone reaching forward and their glasses clinking hurts too, in that same sweet and painful way. *

(toronto; now) Hey, it’s me. I think you’re either asleep or in rehearsal so don’t even worry about not picking up. I know it’s just a volunteering thing at the humane society but I’m like, weirdly very nervous about it, like god what if all the dogs hate me Shawn? How the fuck would I go on after a blow like that? I’m kidding. But only mostly. I just wanted to hear your voice before I went in. Even if it was just your answering machine. Is that lame? Probably. Anyway...god Ellie, wrap this up. I’ll let you know how it goes. *

You This is Earl and I love him with my whole heart You Sent an image You Look at those ears he’s like a bat I’m dying. Shawn Loved your photo You I’m considering him a good luck charm for my Sick Kids application. You How was the show? Shawn Good :)   It’s unlike him to be so monosyllabic, smiley notwithstanding. Especially about a show. You Where are you? A crosswalk light turns in your favour. You’ve been walking just behind a couple with a giant white Samoyed, admiring his beautiful fluffiness as he sat at his owner’s heel. “Appa, yip yip!” The dog gets up immediately to walk. Holy shit I’m gonna die.  

You’re literally typing Shawn oh my god I just–  when your phone rings in your hand. “Hi.” You catch your reflection in the glass of a restaurant. Do you always look this happy when you talk to him? “El.” Shawn hasn’t said your name like this in a long time – not since In My Blood’s release. It immediately deflates your The Last Airbender excitement and you stop in your tracks; Appa’s swinging tail disappears around the corner.   “Can you ask me again?” You turn down a local greenspace next to your building. The bustle of Queen Street fades and you press your phone closer to your ear. “Where are you, Shawn?” “Back in the hotel in Raleigh. You know that hammock thing by the window?” “In your story, sure. What time is it?” You know the answer, of course. Same time zone. “Eleven something.” Nerves pinch at the base of your spine. “And how do you feel in that hammock thing in Raleigh at eleven something at night?” Shawn sighs. “A little better now that I’m talking to you.” Your stomach jumps. “But? What is it?” The line is quiet for a moment, though you can still hear Shawn’s even breath. “I feel like I’m not doing enough.” “What do you mean?” “Remember what you said when you were filling in your application for Sick Kids? You have all this time and energy so you may as well use it to help other people?” “Yeah…I mean I spent a good portion of my day cuddling cats, but–” He huffs a gentle laugh in your ear and it feels like a victory. “Yes. I remember.” “I just feel like… like I could be doing more to help. What’s the point of having all these followers or this like, platform, if I can’t do good with it?” It seems important to choose your next words carefully. “You know your music really helps people, right? Like Morgan, from London? Like me?” Shawn sighs again. “Yeah. You know how much that means to me.” “I’m not saying you can’t or you shouldn’t look to do more – I dunno, fundraising or educating, or whatever. You’re right, you can and do reach so many people. But it’s not like Instagram is gonna solve every single major social issue in the world, or that you or any single person has all the answers or right opinions.” “I feel like an idiot sometimes,” he says, like a shameful admission. “I literally only have a high school diploma and I feel like, out of my depth all the time.” “It’s not fair that people expect you to speak about every trending topic of the day,” you insist. You can feel yourself on the edge of getting worked up, a surge of overprotectiveness you haven’t felt in a long time. “That’s not your job. What happens when you say something well-intentioned and it blows up in your face?” “That’s what I’m afraid of.” “Shawn…” It takes a second to straighten out all the thoughts now whirling around in your head. “I understand what you’re getting at. And I admire you for it, more than you know. I’m sure there’s a way to help people and use your platform in a productive way without all the...noise.” He’s quiet for a long time. “God, I miss you.” It’s ridiculous how he can still make you blush, even from hundreds of miles away. “I miss you too.” “Are you home yet?” “Just about to get in the elevator. Can I call you back?” “Yeah. Wanna watch something?” “You’re not tired?” “No. Just wanna be with you for a bit, if that’s okay.” There’s no one around but you bit back another stupid smile anyway. “Always okay.”

[ditch-witches]

Beginner's Luck (Dean-Charles Chapman Smut)

requested: yes/no (your requests are everything to us! send us your monkey brain, sad boy hours, thot thoughts, etc. and we’ll try our absolute best to deliver!)

thank you for the request @obsessedwithfandomsx​!

pairing: Dean-Charles Chapman x reader

warnings: smut, fluff, slow burn asf. (im so sorry)

word count: 2,197

a/n: Hello dear readers. Resident Dean stan, Grayce, here! I hope everyone had a safe weekend and I wish everyone luck in this upcoming week! I got super carried away with this for no reason (maybe it’s because it’s my birthday and I’m emo) so I hope y'all enjoy it! Happy reading!

You wrung your hands as your nerves began to build while thinking about the situation in front of you. There was Dean across the room, chatting with some friends and seemingly carefree with the night as his oyster. You watched him laugh at a joke, your mouth curling into a smile at the sight out of instinct. His laugh was contagious, even if you couldn’t hear it.

Tonight was the night. The two of you had declared it the week before and under Dean’s nose, you stressed and planned to no end. It was your first time, not just with him, but ever. He was aware of this, of course, but after finding out that he had been with someone before you, it was clear you had competition. Even if it seemed like he wouldn’t be comparing the two of you, you would be. You bit your lip with a small chuckle, cursing yourself for coming into the metaphorical game so late. You rolled your eyes at yourself, attempting to contribute to the conversation in front of you.

Dean knocked the neck of his bottle against his friends before walking over to you. You jumped slightly as his arm found its way around your waist. He greeted your group before slyly leaning towards your ear. “Ready to get out of here? This is kind of lame…”

You snickered at his comment before parting from the group. He took your hand when you both left the house booming with music, lacing your fingers together. Dean smiled at you in the dark, your breath coming out in translucent clouds to mix with the light snowfall. You almost slipped on an ice patch, causing Dean to pull you closer to him and let out a light-hearted laugh. Sliding into the car beside him, your heart was beating a thousand times quicker than normal. The two of you had left parties together, spent the day together, etc., more times than you could count yet tonight it felt like you were a stranger in your own body.

Dean turned down the radio and moved his hand to rest on your thigh. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in your chest. His thumb rubbed against your jeans in a soothing manner. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, quirking a small smile in your direction before turning back to the road. You wet your lips, chewing on your words in an attempt to gather your response. It was a short distance to Dean’s apartment from his friend’s, causing your nerves to jump a bit higher.

“I’m nervous if I’m being completely honest.”

You could tell he was furrowing his brows in concentration, only getting to see glimpses of his reactions as you passed under street lamps. “About what, exactly?” His tone was even and more understanding than anything.

You took the hand that was on your thigh into your own, tucking your arm under his. “I don’t know. I guess I have the jitters about our first time…”

Dean let out a small chuckle. “That’s what you’re worried about?” The two of you made eye contact momentarily. “Sweetheart, we don’t have to if you-”

“No! No, I want to. It’s just… I’ve heard horror stories about people’s first times. I’m worried I’m not going to be good enough and that, I don’t know, it won’t be fun. It’s just my brain working against me.”

He thought for a moment about how to react. “How can I make it better?”

You leaned closer to his side, wishing the console wasn’t between the two of you. “Tell me it’s going to be okay.”

“I’ll make sure it’s okay. If you wanna stop at any point, let me know. We’ll go at your pace. It will be okay. I promise.” Your heart fluttered at his response and he pulled into his driveway.

“All right then. Let’s fuck.” He laughed at your comment, squeezing your hand.

Dean sat beside you on the bed, his hands in his lap as you fought to settled your nerves. You were grateful for his laid back approach to the situation, yet he still made it seem like your worries were valid. He reached a hand out to you, brushing your hair off your shoulder gently. You smirked slightly, still looking forward, your eyes concentrating on his light switch. His hand traveled to rest on your back, rubbing in slight circles before he leaned towards you to place a kiss on your cheek. You turned to him, looking into his soft eyes and relishing in this moment. You decided you didn’t want to go back. You were all in.

You closed the gap between the two of you rather abruptly, pulling him into a kiss and pushing one of your hands into his hair. He pulled you closer as one of his hands moved to settle on the back of your neck. The smell of his cologne invaded your senses, the familiarity of it in a situation like this put you further at ease. You broke away from him to push his jacket off his shoulders and you both moved further on the bed. You found yourself sitting cross-legged in front of Dean, attempting not to make the situation any more awkward than it already was. He smiled at you, pressing his lips against yours again as you tugged at the hem of his shirt. You had seen him shirtless plenty of times, but at this moment, he was different. He was unexplored terrain to you, just as he was treating you like a new piece of art, worried to bend an edge or wrinkle beyond repair.

He helped you remove your shirt as well and you struggled not to cover your chest, but Dean’s soft expression gave you the confidence to be vulnerable to him. His hands rested on your hips as he kissed you with as much passion as he could muster, sighing into each brush of contact he had with you. You broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his as your heart hammered in his chest. You took one of his hands in yours, catching your breath momentarily.

“You are absolutely gorgeous, you know?” He whispered, leaning back from you to send you a small smile.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “Stop being weird and grab my boob, Dean.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just really excited,” he said with an almost childlike expression. You snorted at his enthusiasm, causing him to laugh. He pressed his lips against yours, smiling behind the action. He couldn’t help himself. You pulled his hand up to settle against your breast, and in a switch, he was back to gentle caresses and taking things one step at a time. One of your hands knotted in his hair as his warm breath brushed against your cheek. You held onto his forearm softly as he slipped his hand between the fabric of your bra and your skin. You moaned against his lips, mentally cursing yourself at the sound, but it seemed to egg Dean on as he deepened your kiss. You leaned back into the pillows, pulling Dean with you as you both buried yourselves in the covers. “Are you still okay?” Dean murmured, tucking one of his arms beneath yours.

“I’m fine. I promise. I’ll scream bloody murder if I’m not,” you lightly joked.

He smiled down at you, brushing his nose against yours slightly. “Okay, deal.” You kissed him lightly before wrapping a leg around one of his, bringing him flush against you. His teeth grazed against your bottom lip before you reached between the two of you, unbuttoning your jeans. He leaned back to watch your actions, his pupils larger and almost animalistic. He withdrew from you, resting back on his knees, helping to drag your jeans down your hips. You sat up to meet him, your hands trailing down his chest towards his zipper as well. His hands played with the ends of your hair, his lips finding your collarbone and placing light kisses while nipping at the skin. You slipped your hand behind the fabric of his boxers and began to palm him, but he caught your wrist in the process. “You don’t have to do that.”

You furrowed your brows at him. “I want to.”

“No, I mean,” he bit back a smile, “I’m ready when you are.”

You attempted to hide the taken aback reaction you registered, your face heating up. “oH.”

He held your face in his hands and you rested yours on his hips now. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush,” he leered and you rolled your eyes, causing him to laugh. He loved it when you did that for some reason. You brought him down with you to lie between your legs. You bit your lip slightly looking at him.

“Go slow, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay. Are you ready?” You exhaled and nodded rather quickly. The two of you fumbled around in a mess of giggling attempting to get both your underwear and his boxers off without ruining the moment. “I’ll be gentle,” he finally said, angling himself towards you.

“Ew,” you nervously tittered in response. You were on the verge of resorting to humor to cover your anxiety.

“Are you sure?” He asked once again, lifting his eyes to yours and you exhaled again nodding. “It’s okay. Relax,” he hummed softly, his eyes looking to yours for any sign of retreat.

“I’m ready. I trust you.” He pressed his lips to yours before shifting his weight from the hand that was holding him up to the other. “Ow!” You barked. Dean froze in his position, eyes widening as he searched your face. “I’m joking,” you leered, biting back the wicked grin spreading across your face.

His shoulders fell slightly in relief and he fought not to roll his eyes. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack and it’ll be Gerald’s Game all over again.” You couldn’t help but snicker, now feeling more relaxed in his arms. You nodded at him one last time to give him the go-ahead and he pushed himself into you, waiting for you to adjust to him. You groaned slightly, the pressure of him a foreign feeling but surprisingly not as painful as you had been warned it would be. You reached up to bring his lips to yours as he began moving. You began to feel every inch of him in you as his hips ground against yours. His lips left yours to press against your jaw and your ear, one of his hands interlocking with yours, binding the two of you further together in the act.

“I haven’t screamed bloody murder yet,” you said, almost congratulating him, causing him to let out a low chuckle as your eyes found his.

“I love that you’re still a minx even while you’re under me,” he added rather darkly and you laughed.

“You bring out the best in me, D,” you unintentionally moaned. He grinned before sealing your lips together in a sloppy example of his love as he quickened his pace ever so slightly. You had a feeling he was close, so you began to grind into him as well, wanting to find the right position so you could join him. He noticed your attempt, burying himself in your neck, driving himself deeper into you, causing you to let out a small whimper as your hands plunged into his dark curls. His movements brought a feeling of tension within you. Getting to your orgasm was like feeling a distant sneeze creeping up your nose. Dean began to ride you with less of a rhythmic pace. You pulled him back to look at you as he brought you closer to the edge. He somehow looked at you with so much longing in this moment of passion that you fought not to tell him you loved him. With every movement, a feeling of relief began to spread through your body and before you knew it, you fists were tightening in his hair, head falling back in pleasure. You swore you saw him grin before you shut your eyes to ride out the rest of your ecstasy. Breathlessly, he pulled out of you, jerking himself off a few times before finishing as well. The two of you were a panting mess as he lowered himself on the bed beside you.

You laid your head against his chest, the only sound in the room to you being his heartbeat as his hand softly ran up and down your back. He took your hand in his, examining your palm, brushing his thumb against your heartline. “Thank you,” you sighed. It began to sink in that Dean would now be carrying around a piece of you with him for the rest of his life.

“You act like you’re the only one who benefitted from that,” he answered with a short chuckle. The vibration of his accent in his chest was music to your ears.

You scoffed. “Just take my gratitude, dammit.” He laughed again at your response. “Now what do we do?”

“We could take a shower?” He offered.

“I love your mind,” you quipped.

[fanficparker]

Faking, Falling > Part 12

Harrison Osterfield x Reader (Fake dating! Unrequited love switcheroo!)

Word count: ~2.5k words

Warning: None but angst and fluff is sprinkled here and there.

Summary: Is it possible to fill a cavity with hollowness? 

<< PART 11 [ MASTERLIST ] PART 13 >>

Harrison groaned at the noise coming from outside. His eyes were still closed and he could easily enjoy sleeping for at least two more hours. He groaned again and tried to shove the covers up to cover his ears but he failed to drag the material. He slowly opened his eyes and definitely didn't regret the sight. Your lips were slightly parted, eyes closed, hairs falling over your face and the pillow, your chest slowly rising and falling under soft snores. He wondered if you were that sleeping beauty he read stories of. Sleeping beauty that needed just a kiss to wake up. Not just a kiss... The true lover's kiss.

And Harrison told himself that he, without any doubt, didn't fall into the category of that true lover. But he did already kiss you. God, it was so rushed and dry, worse than a mouth to mouth. He has probably ruined his first impression as a kisser— Terrible kisser. A non-consensual, dry, bad, devoid of all emotions except hurry and anxiety kiss.

Will she give me a second chance? It's in the contract after all. I can kiss her on the thirteenth day at the party. Gosh, Harrison, get a grip! Stop looking at her. She must not want you to watch her like that. He closed his eyes and let his body relax beside yours, so close, so warm, so soft. Your soft fingertips that touched the skin of his bareback felt burning on his skin, yet soothing. Your legs that were wrapped around his, felt nice. Your warm breath that fanned over his neck, felt amazing. And he cursed himself for feeling this way.

Surely, Karma is a bitch. Because if it was any less than a bitch it won't let his heart riot in his chest this hopelessly... yet full of desire. He shouldn't have allowed you to cuddle with him in the first place. But he was also enjoying this closeness. Ugh! He needs at least a couple of years to figure out his conflicting emotions. But for the time being, he decided to go with— 'I should... probably tell my stupid weird whatever I am feeling in the pit of my stomach... desire as the English language names it... to go fuck off!'

"Fuck off!"

He heard the words of his brain in action— in a real human voice. But that voice didn't belong to him. Suddenly, he remembered the reason why he was disturbed from his peaceful sleep in the first place— The noise. It wasn't just noise, it was the voice of two people arguing.

His eyes fluttered open yet again, ears budged to hear, brain alert to concentrate. He recognised the two distinguishable voices. They belonged to your parents. He flinched on the realisation. The argument seemed serious to him. His movements made you whimper, while you unconsciously pulled his body even closer, not wanting to let go off your sleep just yet. He found it smarter to wake you up before thinking anything about the situation taking place outside the bedroom.

"Y/n... Y/n," he whispered directly into your ear. His breath tickled on the spot just below your ear, making you squirm. He decided to take the matter in his own hands but the way you were holding him, didn't allow him to move. He shook your shoulders repeating your name in a proper amplitude and finally, you decided to slap his chest and open your eyes. His confused, probably even worried frosty blue eyes met your oblivious ones.

"Is it morning yet?" You asked rubbing your eyes, instantly accompanied by a yawn. Of course, it was morning... or even the afternoon. We both slept after six! Harrison wanted to tell but it didn't seem an appropriate thing to talk about right now.

"Ssh..." He shushed you, making you even more perplexed.

"What?" You asked, sleep slowly vanishing away.

"Hear. Your mum and dad..."

Your body stiffened as you finally heard the voice coming from outside the door. You jumped and untangled your limbs from Harrison's. You hurriedly tried to get out of the bed but your left leg stuck in the covers. You were about to fall down facing front but he held your waist and saved your... maybe... nose from getting broken. In a swift motion, he threw the covers away and made the way out of the bed. You opened the door slightly and peeped outside, he did the same. Unable to see anything you pushed the door wider and stepped out while Harrison rushed to throw a t-shirt over his torso, joining you shortly outside. Both of you could make out that your parents were in the kitchen, the sounds of yelling were clearly audible and you both decided to hear it in secrecy.

In about ten minutes you figured out the reason behind the argument. Your stomach dropped pathetically. The reason was so embarrassing. So... so... so... embarrassing, especially in front of an outsider. God, at least not Harrison! You tried to keep your wobbly legs firm beneath your trunk. You had already cried in front of him, just hours ago and now again. No shit. Holding your breath, you tried your best to not let the tears not well up or at least pour down in case Plan A fails. But all you felt were Harrison's arms circling around your waist. He pulled you closer, your back pressed against his chest as he dragged you back into the room. He left you to latch the door and you fell down on the floor, sitting on your knees, sobbing. Plan B failed too.

"Hey hey... It's okay!" Harrison rushed and crouched down beside you. But you knew he was just trying to be nice.

"Oh god. What you must be thinking about my family, about me." You said sinking down more, hiding your face in your palms. "You heard them, Harrison. He thinks she gives more attention to his friend than him and---"

"I am not judging you Y/n, neither your family. It's fine. It happens, it's normal." He slowly shifted closer to you and removed your hands from your face, holding them in his bigger ones. It was like his strategy. He did the exact same before. But this time things weren't that personal.

"But... at least families keep things inside, and not reveal it to-- to--"

"Strangers?" He quirked an eyebrow, interrupting you, making you pause your sobs and look up at him even more embarrassed.

"I... ah---"

"Don't overthink Y/n. It's fine. I said I don't mind. They'll be okay and you should never be bothered about what others think." He explained calmly. And you did start to understand.

"Right... I don't know what's happening to me since morning. Breaking down at everything. I guess it's because of my periods." You chuckled, breath slowly calming down.

"You need something to eat?" He smiled rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs.

"Maybe ice-cream," You said slowly looking properly at his eyes and they seemed to stare back at you.

How can someone's eyes be so clear? His irises flicked down to your lips, your heart thudded inside your chest. You instantly pulled away your hands from his grip looking to the other side, pretending to wipe out the already dried tears on your cheeks. When your heartbeat was back to normal you looked back at him again.

"It will settle down. Don't worry." He reassured with a polite smile. A smile that made you wonder— if him looking at your lips was your mere imagination.

You nodded.

"So... Ice-cream?"

"Yeah..."

***

Time was ticking away. Days were moving ahead. It was already Day Seven of the fake dating agreement. Not even a week left and everything will be over. A weird feeling filled your chest... Hollowness. He felt you squirming beside him. He turned his head from the night sky to look at you, your face was illuminating under the moonlight while you were lost in your thoughts, staring at the stars.

You both were lying on the cool grass of the park you came to pass time and the time did pass, too fast for his liking. The moon and stars covered the sky as you both were enjoying the quiet until he observed your anxious behaviour.

"You take too much tension about your career. Let yourself loose," He remarked, making you swirl your neck to look at him, faces barely five inches apart.

Your mouth twitched, "I wasn't thinking about---"

"How many years are you in the industry?" He asked. His voice was way too soothing against the bubbling anxiety that was boiling inside your abdomen. You decided to carry on with his concern. And honestly, you did worry a lot about your career, just not at the current moment.

"Six," You answered.

"How many firms you send your designs to for selection each month?" He asked.

"Umm... Five-six a month I guess," You answered, swinging your head to the sides.

"What?!" His voice was way louder and he jumped to sit up. Confusion arose in you seeing his actions.

"What? What?" You asked.

"Just six? Are you kidding me?" He said as if shocked. Your brows lifted.

"So how many am I supposed to apply for?" You asked curiously.

"At least, one hundred every month!"

"What?!" You almost yelled.

"Yes. Exactly. You need to apply for at least one hundred rejections a month. That's the mantra for success!" He sounded confident and excited.

"One-hundred? There are only thirty days a month." You were confused.

"Yeah but there are twenty-four hours each day." He shifted to rest his head on his elbow to look at you better, his curls fell on his forehead with the movement.

"How is---"

"It is possible and you need to do it. You literally have to send the same e-mail to all the one hundred organisations. You'll also receive some great valuable feedback and you'll improve in a great way. It's easy. I did it." He paused and waited for your response but all you did was stare at him, mesmerised by his words. He continued, "And now this one is very important..."

You lifted your head, looking forward to his upcoming words.

"You should never look down at yourself if you see anyone successful or talented or anything. Any time you feel jealous of someone, you should kill that feeling by giving that person the best of compliments. It's very important to not look down or envy anyone in this career. You understand, right?"

You nodded.

"Words Y/n?"

"You sound like a teacher. Too demanding." You complained and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, Harrison I understand. Thanks," You said when he stopped laughing. His advice was actually inspiring, even a new dress idea emerged in your head, maybe you'll try drawing it later on your tablet.

"No need to thanks. We are already friends," He shrugged off, waving his hand.

"Are we?"

He was about to laugh again but noticed your serious expressions.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Friends share stuff. It's just me telling about myself all the time. What do I know about you? Did you tell me anything?" You looked into his eyes with a steady gaze. He instantly shifted his gaze to the other side.

"Look, you are still hiding. It's fine, really but..." You trailed off and instead reached for his hand.

He let you trace your fingers on the back of his hand and on his forehead. It was a soothing experience indeed but what wasn't soothing were the emotions that your face conveyed. Harrison could see the glint of disapproval and disappointment in your e/c eyes. He felt dishonest. The feeling was pretty terrible for him. You removed your hand and he sighed. Your eyebrow twitched at his reaction making him feel even more vulnerable under your gaze.

"All your smiles are fake Harrison, isn't it?" It was indeed a very loaded question.

"Not all."

"So... some are?" You sat up and slid closer to his sitting figure.

"Everyone---"

"No more philosophy Harrison. You have bad anxiety. Accept it."

He exhaled looking down for a minute and then back at you, your gaze hasn't softened at all.

"Yeah," He admitted slowly, his breath was shaky. Harrison could see a little hesitation in you but you slid even closer to him till your shoulders bumped with his. Your arm snaked around his shoulders and gently you pulled his head to rest on your shoulder. His heart sputtered as your hand travelled to his hairs, your fingers slowly combing through the curly blonde strands. A little sigh escaped your lips and he exhaled deeply. It was the breath he didn't even realise he was holding— a breath you had unknowingly taken away. The burning sensation in his eyes made him close them. For minutes there was absolute silence. His heart squirmed weirdly every time your fingers untangled his curls.

"...So, you are like one of those people who guide others in their problems but never themselves." You said. It wasn't a witty remark, it was a supportive, understanding statement.

"Guess so," He whispered, enjoying the feeling of his hairs rolling around your fingers. You hummed pausing the ministrations. You rather shifted on your lap. He could tell you were about to lift his head off your shoulders and look at his face.

"Don't... look at my face," He said making your body go still.

"Are you--- are you crying?"

He could hear the doubt and worry in your voice.

"No... but I will if you'll look at my face..." He was honest.

"Please play with my hair. Please," He pleaded in a little bit screechy voice. You complied. His body slowly relaxed under your touch.

"You are pretty fucked up." You said and he could feel a little smile on your lips.

"Aren't we all a little fucked up?"

"Guess so..."

***

"What are you going to wear to your friend's party? What was his name again?" You asked sipping through the orange juice sitting on the little breakfast nook on the outside of the little cafe. A big jute cap helping your face with the intense sunlight. Fresh day. Fresh mood.

"Jerry. It's his wedding reception. He didn't have a formal wedding. He likes saving money," Harrison grinned scrapping his pastry with a fork.

"He's smart." You remarked, "But what 'you gonna wear?"

Harrison paused the pastry piece before it touched his lips.

"It's a simple black suit. Nothing special," He shrugged, finally putting the pastry in his mouth.

"I don't have any fancy clothes here. We'll have to go shopping."

"Today?" He asked surprised, keeping his finished glass of juice aside.

"Not even a week is left Haz... Hey, can I call you Haz? I heard a lot of your co-artists calling you by this name. Is it your nickname?" You straightened your back against the chair, your voice radiating enthusiasm.

"Yeah, I'll like that actually." He smiled but internally the bitter part of your sentence had captured his consciousness. A weird feeling rushed through his chest, filling the cavity with hollowness.

Not even a week is left...

Not even a week is left...

Not even a week is left...

Any feedback guys??? Say something, please. Is anyone still reading this?

@asmilinghopelessromantic​ // @just-a-littlebit-of-everything​ // @xximaweirdoxx​ // @jjasalem​ // @cordiebirdy​ // @wizliar​ // @justasmisunderstoodasloki​ // @veronicas-littleworld​ // @acceptance07​ // @ghostspf​ // @screeching-student-unknown​ // @fanficscuziranout​ // @miraclesoflove​ // @trustfundparker​ // @emcsii04​ // @yourmum792​ // @skymoonandstardust​ // @nxdxh* // @httplayer​ //  @lizzyosterfield​ // @tomhaz​ // @gioandreolli​ // @girl1sstuff​

[aqueerdarrenstan]

Kuroshitsuji Theory - Who Summoned the Demon?

So I realize I have never even once reblogged Kuroshitsuji to this blog, but lately I’ve been so consumed by this manga and this one particular theory won’t stop haunting me. It’s been an eternity since I really got taken in by a juicy piece of media like this (maybe since my Death Note days), so I figured I really needed to get it off my mind by writing it out.

This is- quite long, lmao. And I’m not sure if someone has already made this theory, because I only recently started diving into the fandom. Spoilers begin under the cut.

I’m gunna start off by saying that I can’t believe someone actually pulled off the “[Character] has had a secret twin the entire time!” and it was honestly one of the best, well executed plot twists in all of manga. I only just recently got back into this story, having loved it back in like 2010 but never seen more than the first two seasons of the anime. I was actually shocked to learn that the story was still going on ten years later, and got so excited I accidentally spoiled this big plot reveal before I started reading the manga. At first I was mad at the thought of it, but the fact that Yana Toboso had laid out hints since book two had me stoked. I quickly became obsessed with finding all of the hints to this beautifully planned plot twist, and in the end I’m glad I was spoiled of this because it was such a joy finding all the little Easter eggs I would have bypassed if I had not known.

But it also made me very wary of other plot twists that could possibly happen. It made me suspicious of moments where something is just ever so slightly off; that might not be translation miscommunication, but rather something more. Specifically around chapter 135 is when something caught my attention. After the mansion is attacked on December 14th and the twins are sold to a mysterious man, Our!Ciel seems to have a glimmer of hope that things will get better. We can already see how Real!Ciel seems to be more cautious than O!Ciel. He doesn’t buy into the hope like O!Ciel does so easily; he knows that something is going to go very wrong.

Yono has laid out the differences between the twins so well; it’s as subtle in their personalities as it is in the wisps of their bangs. Specifically, a few chapters earlier gave us insight to how protective R!Ciel is of his younger twin. We also get a whole segment about how upset he is by the idea of O!Ciel leaving him in the distant future to own a toy shop outside of the Phantomhive land; he is so devastated by this idea that he refuses to leave his bed to go to class.

He seems specifically upset that O!Ciel has no qualm about leaving his older brother. This is a key moment for R!Ciel- that perhaps his younger brother doesn’t need him as much as R!Ciel needs to protect him. Fast forward a few chapters, and in the midst of their torture we have moments when R!Ciel continues to vehemently protect his younger brother as much as he could while locked in that cage. Offering words of encouragement, promising that they’ll make it out. But then the culmination of events comes to a head, and R!Ciel shows that he is once again more wary than his younger brother.

See, we had been made to believe that the choice between brothers was a random one by the next pages.

And then we are made to believe that this is a sacrifice made by O!Ciel to summon the demon. The demon continually says as such, but this is where I get thrown off in the following panels.

Certain things about this just don’t line up. In order for the demon to appear, a soul needed to be sacrificed to it as an offering. O!Ciel, however, doesn’t even seem fully aware until this moment that this meant his brother was officially dead. He saw his brother stabbed, certainly, but the state of shock hadn’t settled in yet to absorb the fact that R!Ciel was truly dead. A few pages later and we get:

O!Ciel is completely confused as how how he would have sacrificed his brother’s soul to a demon. He had no conscious thought about summoning the demon; certainly, he had several pages of wishing death upon everyone else in the room after seeing his brother stabbed, but he didn’t seem aware of the fact that his brother was truly dead until he pieces it together at the demon’s hint.

This raises the question: is it even possible to accidentally sacrifice someone to summon a demon? O!Ciel had no choice in the matter at all, about his brother being taken over him, and he seemed to be in complete denial about all of it. Further, there is a whole page after R!Ciel is taken where O!Ciel begs someone to help save R!Ciel. There is something to be said about it being subconscious, as if maybe O!Ciel had been preferring death to this torture without realizing it also meant he was wishing for his brother’s death. But to me, what seemed much more in character:

It was R!Ciel who summoned the demon, using his own soul as sacrifice.

It would make sense for R!Ciel to come to this conclusion in those moments before death. He was more perceptive to the upcoming danger than O!Ciel; he knew what the society was boiling down their torture toward. While it seemed O!Ciel was shocked by the turn of events, R!Ciel seemed to have pieced it together. He knew one of them was going to die.

And if I can pick his brain, it’s easy to see his choices lay out in front of him. If one of them were to die, would R!Ciel simply hand over the brother he spent his whole life to protect? Wasn’t he painfully aware that O!Ciel didn’t have the separation anxiety he himself felt when he was apart from his twin? He knew that O!Ciel would be able to live without him, but he was unsure if he would be able to do the same. Didn’t it take his parents telling him that he would still be able to help his brother with the toy shop by being head of Phatomhive for him to agree to let O!Ciel pursue that dream on his own? R!Ciel wouldn’t be able to help a dead O!Ciel; it would leave him truly alone the way his own death wouldn’t. After all he still needed to protect his younger brother.

To protect his younger brother. How would he be able to protect his younger brother with his death? Certainly O!Ciel would be next on the sacrifice table- unless. Unless they managed to summon the demon on the first try. The only way to buy a bit of time for O!Ciel would be if they were to summon the demon with R!Ciel’s soul. Or better- if R!Ciel was able to summon the demon on O!Ciel’s behalf, the demon would then belong to O!Ciel, wouldn’t it? R!Ciel would have no way to be certain, but what more could he have done? He was on his last rope. It was either try and O!Ciel would be gifted power great enough to acquire freedom, or create enough of a pandemonium that O!Ciel could possibly slip free.

Whether R!Ciel came to this conclusion in the cage or not is irrelevant. “”It was a choice made without reason” my ass. Perhaps to O!Ciel, at least; we all know it could very well be missing panels- we know how much Yana loves to do that. R!Ciel could have swayed the choice somehow. Even if he came to the conclusion as he was being dragged away and set on the table, it would still be valid.

This leaves the demon choosing to latch onto O!Ciel for some reason. We see him wander about for a bit uncertain of who had summoned him. Perhaps with R!Ciel’s soul eaten, it was harder for him to place that. But then he caught onto O!Ciel; someone similar enough to the one who had summoned him to fool everyone in his life for three years into thinking he was the other. The demon may or may not have been aware that it wasn’t exactly the same person to summon him. I don’t think it changes much, seeing as the only thing the demon cares about is his next meal. After all, he’s used to getting at least two meals per summoning, and if he ate the summoner’s life as his first, then what? Or he could have been unaware, and after all, hadn’t the boy in the cage been denying god? Hadn’t he just lost his twin brother? It certainly seems he is the only person in the room who could have summoned him. After all, who would sacrifice their own life to summon a demon? Wasn’t the purpose of summoning a demon to then be granted its power? Certainly the demon has never encountered that before, so why would he assume he already ate the summoner’s soul to get there?

On the denying god thing, I do think that R!Ciel had certainly been swayed to do so in his last moments. The parallel of this moment, O!Ciel convincing R!Ciel that god doesn’t exist, could very possibly been going through his head.

Yana loves a good parallel.

But this also begs to answer questions about what the reconstructed R!Ciel is up to in the latest chapters. Could someone so protective of his younger brother be ruining his life as such? There is still so much in the air about this, this theory aside, that it’s hard to tell. It seems he is upset that his twin brother escaped without him, didn’t use the demon to save him like he would have for his twin. But it is also in the air that this version of R!Ciel is even the real Real!Ciel. After all, his soul was definitely eaten by Sebastian. With the reanimated body, did the original soul come back, or a copy? Is the soul a clone? And if it is, can that soul really be considered the same as the original? The shinigami were called back for the reanimated corpses, but none that we know of so far came back for Ciel Phantomhive- perhaps because they too got confused by O!Ciel taking his name? Who knows.

And more importantly, would that mean that Sebastian should truly belong to R!Ciel? This concerns me because of how much the demon stresses that he would never take upon two contracts at once, and makes a special exception to allow it into the third clause, even though it is technically its own clause. I could see R!Ciel using this to his advantage in whatever game he is trying to play, though I’m not sure how effective it would be.

This theory has been kicking my ass the past few weeks. It blooms the story open for me in ways that get me too excited for the upcoming chapters to only be once a month. I need ANSWERS, MS. TOBOSO.