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tiredassmage · 2 years ago

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Oooh 27-30 for the AO3 wrapped if I can be greedy :3

Haha, of course! It seems only fitting, for how much I ramble in your answers anyway. xD

27. What do you listen to while writing?

Sometimes nothing because music can be just as inspiring as distracting. In the reverse though, I tend to write moments or scenes; I seem to have abandoned the planning and patience required for multi-chaptered works when I was younger and had less responsibility, lol. And also before I went through several years of forum-based rping and became very used to collaborative character development and short works.

I otherwise also have a habit of just looping one song for the entirety of a writing period. Ironically, I worked on this Ziost piece for Savosta and Rhystyl with a combination of Disturbia by Rhianna and Pump It by the Black Eyed Peas absolutely stuck in my head. NEITHER of which match the vibes of Ziost or that piece AT ALL, but I could NOT purge those songs and eventually I just caved. And also the doc in my GoogleDocs is literally titled "disturbia looping in my head" because this one was a gut-punch to write and a meme-y title was my coping mechanism, lmao.

My 3 most defined SWTOR characters (Tyr, of course; Savosta, my Chiss SW; and Lensan, my BH) also all have their own playlists, which is another thing I haven't successfully done in EONS, so I will sometimes shuffle their whole playlists while writing for them, or loop specific songs relevant to whatever piece I'm writing. (They also usually accompany me to work or campus because blorbo thoughts are always the answer.)

OH. ALSO. My obsession I need to beam into everyone’s head is the last like 24 hours of my life I have been CONSUMED by The Unforgiven by Metallica as an agent song. I am rotating Tyr so intently in my head. Will I manage to do anything about it? Stay tuned!

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

inflection point was my first foray into writing and publishing for SWTOR and it remains really close to my heart for... reasons I'm pretty certain I've already mentioned for it earlier in the year, but a quick recap: I do really enjoy how I established Tyr in this one. Most of his minor mannerisms that have become essential to my picture of him made it into this fic and I think this is maybe one of my best representations of his relationship with Theron in one piece. They banter here, but they also are bone-cuttingly honest with one another - something I think is still way more difficult for Tyr than he even realizes. I apparently still can't write in chronological order ever because it's the first piece I published and it's the most recent as far as chronological story events are concerned, but, hey, I wrote it semi-shortly after actually finishing all the story content with him, so... that's my defense, lol.

take me gets an honorable mention as the other one near and dear to my heart as another one of those wrenchingly honest and intimate moments they share. I really like the unscripted aspect of both this one and inflection point. A lot of my other works have been focused around certain game moments and it sometimes feels like a bit of a cheap slip to work that way, but I end up writing them anyway because it's what my characters saw in that moment, even if it's mostly familiar to reference in game - and they're often really important distinguishments to keep track of in my head, at least, and writing them out in full just hits way harder than adding another bullet point to the Lore Doc. xD

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Okay, I'm gonna be greedy and give you a few, I think. I'll put a cut here for them.

“Do you regret it, Tyr..?” he asked quietly.

The Commander and ex-Cipher was silent for another long moment. “No.” Tyr rolled his jaw before he finally looked back at his lover. “May I speak frankly with you, Major..?”

He’d lowered his voice, reverted once more to the comforting distance of professionalism afforded by their titles. It’d helped Quinn find his footing in the Alliance - something grounding and familiar and unchanging, unlike so much else in the last several years.

“Always, Commander.”

Tyr watched him a second longer, as if to consider whether or not he was truly prepared - or willing - to step off the ledge. “I’d burn the Empire down to the foundations, Quinn. All of it. Not for the Alliance, not for the Republic… Just… me.” He closed his eyes and released a breath measured and slow - not quite a sigh so much as… acceptance. Resignation, maybe.

Okay, so it's primarily the bold section that keeps me up at night, BUT. Uhhh, brief context, this is from a WIP that I... may or may not finish, I have two versions of this actually - one is this one, where I was exploring the idea of Tyr x Theron x Malavai that is... theoretically established after Iokath. In my head. I have barely written anything tangible about it, but I thought about it for like 3 months at one point before I finally got fed up enough with myself to write when the sirens call our names just to justify Tyr recruiting Quinn to the Alliance when he sided with the Republic on Iokath. Because it was one instance where "you should provide context" won out over the gremlin urge to write 3 pretty boys with complex loyalty issues kissing each other about it.

The other version I set him against Vector as his long-time confidant, but I have already derailed SO far, so, ANYWAY.

The reason this one hits me so hard is because Tyr carries this burn inside of him for years before he can do anything tangible about it. The constant mask of survival suffocates this from really bubbling up prior to the threat of the Eternal Empire. He doesn't see a tangible way out of the Empire when he is still Legate and the half-homeless Cipher Nine following the disbandment of Imperial Intelligence. He's drifting. He hates where he is, but he doesn't run. Where would he even go? What would he do?

I've developed bones to pick with myself for leaving him in command of something like the Alliance because it is against his every instinct to be that known, but it is where the game has him currently and it is the foundation upon which he found the personal agency to really let his dissent flourish and I can't really take that from him. To finally have the power to strike back against the people and the entity that spent years rigging him up like a marionette... He wants that, even though he knows - sort of subconsciously - that it's a path of self-destruction. It's my latest obsession with him, tbh. In between research assignments last week, the idea that he doesn't know how self-destructive he really is, but has these kind of ideas running silently through his head anyway hit me like a semi-truck and hasn't let me rest since.

“But you must see… Whatever resistance we hope to achieve, whatever war we hurtle towards… The galaxy needs you, Rhyst. This ship, this alliance are merely tools, but you were my example. My beacon.”

...

“If you cannot forgive me, I will understand,” he said. “But this war - Zakuul, Arcann, the Throne… Whatever lies Valkorian tries to weave for us, you must see it all for the mere crucible that it is! Promise me, Rhystyl! If you will allow me at your side to guard against his influence, I will not leave you. This, I swear to you on my life.”

Also this. Bc ngl, I started writing this whole thing specifically for this line. For this moment. (And also the crucible line came to me one night right before bed as I was playing the mental blorbo movies, as you do, and I just. I Needed It to happen.) Aafafuughghghghghg, this is the peak of the transformation from Savosta being distanced with Rhystyl and with everyone else - his transformation from the weapon he was made into as Baras's apprentice and Emperor's Wrath to actively fighting for himself and what he believes in. When I write one, the other is usually involved, and Rhystyl is sort of positioned to be the "main character" as far as the hero of the galaxy-centric thought might be, but I think what it really is, to me at least, is a series of how Savosta sees him. Ideally, I'll one day have a whole fic series chronicling their journey from tepid allies on Ilum to co-Commanders of the Alliance, but it'll still take me a boatload of time to write that much. So, it's really about Savosta, for me. I started him out to have a really DS Sith (and maybe for the DS 5 chievo, okay, I don't usually play such hardcore dark siders), but then... I got really attached. >.> And I decided I loved him and I was rooting for him to get better and actually break his chains.

He sees someone like Rhystyl - a hero of his people - struggle and still get back up on his feet. Rhyst doesn't always have the answers and, despite their initial misgivings with one another, Rhyst doesn't turn away his partnership, either. He largely accepts that Savosta operates differently, that there's a struggle they share that Savosta isn't ready to confront in himself until several years into the conflict. Rhyst is a mirror, in a way, that Savosta uses to reflect on the differences in their choices and their relationships. Rhyst leans on his connections to bolster his strength where Savosta has always felt incredibly isolated and mistrustful, even with his own crew. He never had that kind of trust with anyone. Rhystyl is really the first person that meets him where he is - and Savosta doesn't think he realizes it. This is the moment he decides he needs to know it. This is the moment he is determined to be there for the man that has unwittingly showed him how he can be better, how he can help himself. He needs to show the same support he feels he's gotten from Rhystyl. And this is the moment they really become inseparable friends.

I'm a little low-key obsessed with a Sith character having the crashing, brutal realization that their power struggles are not, in fact, breaking free of chains, as their code posits, but trading one master for another in an endless struggle for power to oppress the losers, alright?

30. Biggest surprise writing this year?

Honestly? Just having as much fun as I have. Writing as much as I have. Tyr is my absolute blorbo wrapped (I think that's... obvious, lol) and it's honestly just been incredible to be this into an OC again. It feels like it's been too long since I've been so in love and engaged in the development of one of my characters.

I have absolutely enjoyed other OCs I've had in recent years, but I was kinda going off to a friend the other night trying to explain just why SWTOR scratches my itch about story-based gameplay and I boiled it down there to being able to reflect so many of my perceptions about my character in-game. My semi-recent within the last maybe two or three years love for BioWare titles - beginning with Dragon Age: Inquisition, then Mass Effect, and, ofc, now we're on SWTOR - was absolutely in part because of the depth of character interaction. Given a character creator and an engaging dialogue system that affected my relationships with the pixel npc blorbos and I was absolutely hooked.

I really can't explain why he's my obsession that's held on for this long. He's my poor little Rubix Cube, I want to snap him like a glowstick and shake him up and also show him to all my friends. There's also just a charm to SWTOR about being able to explore the aspects of the SW universe that the movies don't focus on - which is how I think I've, ironically, fallen far harder for my Impside characters... against all my expectations and plans. But there's just SO MUCH to explore in them and their complex relationships with their loyalties - often shifting over time, that I just. It ENGAGES ME VERY MUCH. And I love them a lot. Kissing them all on the forehead. Even Len, that absolute jackass.

Anyway, tangent survived successfully if you've made it this far, lol. It's tldr been just. a LOT of fun. I missed it. And it's been liberating to just... actually post it. I'd struggled quite a bit to write and definitely post things within the last several years, even for things I really loved, so to just give myself over to the joy of the process and the indulgence of creating for my own little blorbo has been extremely liberating and enjoyable.

#answered #dot talk #dot's ao3 wrapped

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citrinekay · 2 years ago

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Fic writer interview

Thanks for tagging me @l-tyrell !

name/nicknames: Kay

fandoms: Right now, Beyond Evil. I have a tendency to let one thing consume my soul for a year or more at a time and I can't be distracted by anything else lol two shots?: I have written one two-shot, steel trap teeth, which was supposed to be a one-shot. if I happen to write a two-shot it's usually because, like that fic, what I've written gets too long for one chapter most popular multi-chapter fic: the bitter and the sweet. I'm happy with this statistic. it was the first fic I wrote after finishing the show for the first time and was full of emotions about jwds; I think this fic is representative of the impact that experience had on me lol actual worst part of writing?: I'm honestly stumped as to how to answer this without sounding stuck-up. I love writing. The worst part of writing is the time when I am not writing or having writer's block 😅 I joke quite frequently that I wish I could quit my day job and write fanfic for a living lol how you choose your titles: usually I take some line or word from within the story. occasionally I'll use a song title or a quote if I can't come up with something. i prefer for it to be my own words, though do you outline? hahaha nope. all my plans are in my head. I start from chapter one and take it from there. I usually have a tentative framework that includes certain milestones that I know need to happen throughout the fic and a strong concept for the ending but everything else gets decided in the heat of the moment ideas you probably won’t get around to, but wouldn’t it be nice?: I have the idea for a fairly elaborate jwds The Villainess AU that is just problematic enough for me to be excited at the thought of writing it but idk if I will ever have the time or energy. real life/work is a bitch tbh callouts @ me: You do not need to be productive 100% of the time. best writing traits: Style-wise, I would say my descriptions. I enjoy trying to paint a picture of the scene for the readers and convey what I'm imagining in my own head to them. Overall, I would say characterization and accessing the emotional aspect of storytelling. I love writing angst and resolution of it. It's cathartic. spicy tangential opinion: I have nothing controversial to say lol I just stay in my little corner and write for myself and my friends and have a fucking ball. fandom is for fun and if stops being fun, then it's time to leave. I'll tag my dearest @bambikieren and @willgrahambf

#tag game #my writing

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getlostsquidward · 3 years ago

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no body, no crime

Sally McKenna x fem!reader

A/N: Based on the prompt date idea: bury the corpses of people your s/o killed together. I just twisted it a bit. Title from another Taylor song lmao

Warnings: blood, murder

Summary: The basement of Hotel Cortez was the dumping site of corpses. There should be a pile of bodies welcoming Sally’s sight, only to find it empty.

Another day, another body was dumped in the secret basement of the Cortez. Normally, Liz and Iris would be the ones to toss the dead people in the dark, mostly victims of the bloodthirsty residents of the hotel; but Sally had gone bored of ripping mattresses apart and keeping her victim inside. There was one time, after chucking a body, the frizzy-haired woman mounted herself in the little space and slipped her body downwards, like a kid in the playground slides.

Instead of little kids cheering for her when she’d gone down, it would be silence and a pile of corpses that would welcome her. The room reeks of rotten bodies and cigarette smoke, as Sally would often find solace in this rather twisted paradise. It was ironic that she would seek the company of dead people than the alive ones. The living ones would only leave her, bring her sadness more than she already feels, but the dead won’t leave her alone. As if they can.

Sally had gone back to the room through the vent again to come back for her latest victim who she hadn’t killed yet but decided to throw amongst the dead for the satisfaction of seeing the man’s remaining resolve crumble down with the sight of his company.

To her absolute surprise, he wasn’t there. Nor the rest of the bodies.

She frantically search the hallways, went back to her room to see if the man had gone there, only to find it empty. Then she rode the elevator, hoping to see him in the bar or at the lobby. He couldn’t have escaped that quickly, can he?

She found no one, save for Liz at the bar and Iris at the reception. Sally had asked both if they saw them. They didn’t.

She sat at the stool at the bar, her head resting on her hand. Liz gave her the usual and a cigarette stick. Sally had started rambling about how she found the basement empty and how she fucked up by not killing the man.

Liz only half-listened to the woman but she had an idea of where they had gone. Of who collected the bodies, but she didn’t speak.

Finishing her drink, the ghost went back to her room and plopped down the bed. She didn’t think that she would feel exhaustion even she’s dead.

Five minutes into slipping out of her headspace, she was startled by the scream coming from the vents. Certain that it was her victim, she scurried to the source of the voice.

Sally was momentarily blinded when she arrived in the room. What the hell? This place was as dark as the basement save for the neon signages on the walls but now the curtains were fully opened and the sunlight completely illuminates the room. Once she regained her sight she saw the corpses in different positions, and someone in the middle of the room… painting?

She didn’t reveal her presence yet, observing the way the stranger holds the paintbrush and waves her hand like a conductor in a symphony. She stood there for a while, stuck in a trance. The ghost had forgotten why she went there in the first place until her victim cried again. He was weak, limp body trying to crawl out of the room.

She watched as the painter huffed and sat to match their eye line. “Can you please go back to your spot? You’re dying, right? Why don’t you sit back there and wait peacefully for your death?”

He didn’t pay attention to her and continued to crawl, but stopped when he caught sight of Sally. Another sob escapes from his mouth, a cry of hopelessness. There was no way he would get out of the Cortez alive.

A smug grin was plastered on Sally's face as she feels the gratification pooling in the depths of her. No, the look on the man’s face right now was so much better than she imagined.

“Okay sweetheart, time’s up-” The woman stood up and turned, and was startled by Sally’s presence. Once she regained her composure, she reverted her attention to the man on the floor. She flipped the man’s body with ease so he was facing her.

“Consider this your lucky day, sweetheart,” she whispered with a honeyed voice, a finger trailing the man’s cheek. “You’re my 100th kill.”

She then slit the man’s throat by the sharp edge of her gloves, like the one the Countess uses. The woman had collected some blood, but instead of drinking it, she placed it in a small jar.

“I don’t consume blood. I mix them with my paint, in case you’re wondering,” she mused, the words directed to Sally.

Once she was done, she placed the materials back on her table and took off the gloves. She straightened out her dress and approached Sally, a hand outstretched.

“Hope you enjoyed the show. What’s your name?”

“Sally,” the ghost answered, eyes glassy and curious as to who this woman was. She’d never seen her before.

“Sally. I’m Y/N. Let me buy you a drink.”

You went to the bar and hugged Liz, you haven’t seen the woman for a while. Well, you haven’t let yourself be seen for a while, rather enjoying the isolation. Liz gave you and Sally a drink and excused herself.

“You’re not like them? That only means you’re a ghost too.”

“Yes, well, my sister tried to infect me but I refused. It would be hypocritical of me to say this but I’m not really fond of killing people,” you said as you stood up and went behind the bar to search for that can of beer you missed. “That’s why I just take your trash.”

Sally only chuckled about how your eyes sparked otherwise when you killed the man earlier. “Why are you here?”

“You mean how did I die?”

Sally lit your cigarette for you, and you took a puff before continuing. “James.”

Her eyebrows raised, stupefied. She didn’t speak so you let on, “I knew something that I shouldn’t have and if I relayed that information to the Countess she would leave, well, kill him. So he killed me first.”

You’d accounted how you didn’t reveal yourself at first, still overwhelmed that you were trapped in the place as the same man who killed you. When you heard that James was dead too, that’s when you showed up.

The information that you would tell your sister, how James had Valentino and his wife locked away in the same place, forbidding them to meet with the Countess and running away was in the back of your mind now, letting her find out for herself. She couldn’t possibly harm James after all. Her hatred towards him will only grow.

Babysitting your nephew Bartholomew, and sometimes the other kids were how you let time pass. Your first kill was a man who was lurking the hallways he shouldn’t be in. It was exhilarating, watching him die. The look on their faces when they realize there’s nowhere to go, that they were about to take their last breath. It’s making you feel things but limited yourself from harming just anyone. You’d rather let the bloodthirsty and other ghosts do the dirty work for you. Though sometimes you miss the tingle killing people gives you so you do it yourself, and that’s why even though you were here for a long time now, you consider a hundred a small number compared to the killings of the older residents of the Cortez made.

Sally held up her glass and clinked it with yours. “Not all can appreciate this lovely darkness. Here’s to your 100th kill.”

“Here’s to my new friend,” shooting her a wink.

“Cheers.”

“So you going back to your cave now?” your newfound friend asked, lighting another cigarette. There was a hint of sadness in her raspy voice. She was hoping you wouldn’t hide again.

“No. I found something more interesting now,” you downed the last of your drink, leaning your arms against the counter to inch closer to Sally.

Your noses were touching, and you ghost your lips against hers. “Bring another unlucky human to your room tomorrow night. I want to watch how you kill them.”

Pulling away before Sally captures your lips, you leaned towards her ear and breathed, “It’s a date.”

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson imagine #ahs hotel #american horror story #sally mckenna #hypodermic sally #hypodermic sally x reader #sally mckenna x reader #the countess #james patrick march

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freddie-weaselbee · 4 years ago

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Everything You Do

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language, love potion, small argument but honestly really fluffy

Summary: Y/N tries to get back at Fred for years of pranks, only to have her plan blow up in her face and she has to suffer the consequences for 48 hours.

Request: @darthwheezely i literally loved writing this so much and now magic’s gonna be stuck in my head for the next week so thanks for that

Word Count: 7.9k yeah I may have gotten a little carried away

Song: Magic by One Direction

A/N: For the sake of the story One Direction exists in the 90′s and Hogwarts has Muggle radios. Also I spent my Valentine’s Day writing this instead of actually doing something romantic because Fred owns my heart and real men don’t compare. That’s my excuse.

------------------------------

“This is a really dumb idea.”

“I know, that’s what makes it so fun!”

Angelina Johnson was standing guard outside of a small broom closet while you were mixing together dozens of ingredients you had swiped from Snape’s storage room. He had been distracted punishing the troublemaking twins, giving you the perfect opportunity to grab everything you needed. Ironic how they were the ones who made it possible for you to enact your plan against them.

“I still can’t believe you roped me into this.” Angelina was one of your best friends since your first year at Hogwarts. The two of you had been inseparable for years, which meant she always had your back, even if that consisted of concocting a love potion for a certain redhead Gryffindor.

You added the last of your ingredients and continued to stir, being careful not to mess up the very specific directions for this spell. “C’mon Angie,” you said, “you know you want to get him back as much as I do.”

Angelina sighed heavily but didn’t argue. The two of you were usually on the receiving end of pranks from Fred and George and anything you ever planned to do to get them back failed miserably. But the second you overheard them talking about making love potions to sell an idea formed in your mind.

“It’s finished.” You poured the cauldron’s contents into a small vial before cleaning up any traces of your unlicensed actions. This small potion was about to make your life a lot more interesting. “You can get us into the kitchens, right Angie?”

The girl nodded and led you out of the closet and down abandoned corridors. Angelina’s prefect status had been extremely helpful in many cases, as no one would question why the two of you were out late. You could barely contain yourself as you thought about the chaos that would be happening in less than 24 hours. And by God did Fred Weasley deserve all that was coming to him.

------------------------------

You had everything planned out. Angelina and you spent the night baking the potion into some brownies with the help of the house elves, a treat you knew Fred wouldn’t be able to resist. The plan was simple.

Angelina had asked George the other night if he would want to go on an early morning walk and get in some extra Quidditch practice, so it would only be Fred and Lee in their dorm room when they woke up. The way the potion worked was that, once consumed, the first person the victim makes eye contact with is the person they fall madly in love with for 48 hours. And you and Angelina had decided on the perfect person to be on the receiving end of Fred’s love. Lee Jordan.

While both Fred and George were responsible for the annoying pranks, Fred was always the instigator, which meant it was he who deserved revenge. Angelina had a soft spot for George and didn’t want to involve him in this prank. However, she had no reservations about seeing Lee, the boy who constantly flirted with her during Quidditch games, suffer from Fred’s pining for a few days.

You made your way to the boys dormitory, bouncing with excitement of the prospect of messing with the boy who would tease you to no end. You knocked loudly on the door, which you knew would only put Fred in a bad mood. But you didn’t care. He’d be feeling nothing but love and bliss shortly.

The door was jerked open and a tall mess of ginger hair was standing in front of you, clothed in only a pair of boxers that had cute little Gryffindor lions on them. You had to stifle a laugh and remind yourself that it’s probably not polite to knock on someone’s door early in the morning and proceed to stare at their crotch.

“What the bloody hell do you want?” he groaned, eyes still half closed.

“That’s not a nice way to greet someone who just brought you food, now is it Freddie?” His face changed as he registered your voice and finally opened his eyes wide enough to see you. A slight blush formed on his face as he realized the little clothing he was wearing, but it was quickly replaced by his signature cocky smile.

“And what can I do for you this morning, love?”

You rolled your eyes and pulled the brownies from behind you, one of them normal and the other containing the love potion. ��Angelina and I snuck out to the kitchens last night and snagged a bunch of brownies. I’ll give you one if you promise to leave me out of your pranks, at least for a little bit. I’m tired of waking up to centipedes in my bed and green dye dripping from my hair.”

Fred laughed and snatched the brownie you handed to him. “I appreciate the negotiation, darling, but it’s gonna take a lot more than some baked goods to get me out of your hair. Just ask my mum.”

He was about to take a bite from the brownie, you knew this was it. “You’re insufferable Weasley, I’ll see you in class.” You turned and walked away, counting the minutes until the fun would begin. A door slammed behind you and you assumed Fred had gone back to his bed. With a skip in your step you made your way back to your dorm.

You were about to open the door when you felt a rough hand on your shoulder. You gasped and spun around to see Fred towering over you.

“Sorry to scare you love, but I needed to ask you something.” Before you could stop yourself you looked up at him. In his right hand was the half eaten brownie. His eyes caught yours and you watched, horrified, as they glazed over. The spell had worked. But now you were the target of Fred’s love.

“Oh Godric, oh no.”

Fred’s expressions suddenly changed. His previous cheeky and somewhat nervous grin was gone, replaced with a lovesick smile. “Have you always looked this beautiful?”

You screamed and pushed him into your dorm room, casting a locking charm from the outside. You hoped Fred didn’t have his wand and that would buy you some time.

Sprinting back to Fred and Lee’s dorm you threw open the door and practically jumped on the dark haired boy sleeping tangled in his sheets.

“Lee, wake up wake up!”

He groaned and slapped your arm away but you wouldn't give up. It took all of your might but you rolled him off of his bed, and he gasped loudly as his limp body hit the floor.

“You’re an arse, you know that right?”

Lee finally sat up after he realized that pretending to be asleep would not stop you from frantically shaking him. As he rubbed his eyes and moved to get off the floor he saw the scared look that adorned your face.

“Lee…” you said in a panic, “I messed up.”

------------------------------

George, true to his nature, was absolutely no help. Angelina had brought them back up early so she could check up on the plan, only to walk in on you groaning into Fred’s bed and Lee yelling about how you deserved it for trying to prank him. It only took a few minutes to fill George in, and he and Lee were both beside themselves imagining the possibilities of this turn of events.

“Guys shut up,” you said, slamming your head into one of Fred’s pillows. “This is serious. How am I supposed to deal with Fred being in love with me for two days?”

“I don’t know Y/N,” Lee began mockingly, “it must be really difficult. Not something you would want anyone to have to experience, huh?”

You threw the pillow at his face. “You deserved it Jordan, Angelina agrees.”

The other girl nodded hesitantly. “I did think it would be great to see Fred madly in love with Lee, but now that this has happened…” her face shone with a sly grin that was so rare to find on the prefect, “I think I want to see it play out.”

“You are all horrible people.”

George moved to sit next to you and rub your back. “Hey, don’t worry, love. Maybe the potion isn’t as bad as you thought? Maybe Fred’s not going as crazy as you expected.”

He was.

As you opened the door to your dorm you were engulfed in a bone crushing hug, one very similar to Molly Weasley’s embraces. “I missed you so much, don’t ever leave me for that long again!”

George and Lee had to walk away because they were laughing so much, leaving Angelina to stare at the scene in front of her.

“Umm, Fred,” she asked, peering into the bedroom, “what the hell did you do in here?”

Fred released you from his hold and you could finally see the mess that he created. Everything you owned was pulled from your trunks and scattered across the floor. Your uniform, your books, even your underwear was haphazardly thrown onto your sheets.

You and your roommate were glaring daggers at the boy in front of you, but if he noticed he didn’t care.

“You like it?” he asked. “I wanted to be as close to Y/N as I could while she was gone, so I spread all of her belongings out to make it feel like she was right next to me.” He said the last few words with a dramatic sigh and you smacked your head, hoping it would knock you out of whatever nightmare you were in.

You grabbed his hands in yours and led him back to his room, hoping too many people wouldn’t see him clad in only his underwear. “C’mon Freddie, let's get you dressed. We have a long two days ahead of us.

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You didn’t know if having most of your classes with Fred was a blessing or a curse. On one hand, at least he wasn’t skipping class to be with you all day and you could keep a close eye on him. On the other hand, you already had lost 50 house points and it wasn’t even lunch yet.

“You look stunning with your hair pulled back like that.” Instead of doing his potions assignment, Fred was bent over resting his head on his hand and staring at you mixing together your ingredients.

“And you look like an idiot standing like that, get back to work before we get in trouble again.” You thought that if you were rude to Fred then maybe he would get the hint and back off. But your potion turned out to be stronger than expected, and nothing you did could get him away from you.

He pushed a strand of hair that had fallen out of your ponytail behind your ear, letting his fingers linger for a few seconds. It made you blush furiously but you didn’t want to give the boy any satisfaction. “Back to work Fred, now.”

The ginger sighed and grabbed a few ingredients, not checking to see what they were. He hummed and danced around the table, throwing them in while he quietly sang a familiar tune.

You rolled your eyes and looked down at your own cauldron, before his hands were on your chin and your faces were inches away from each other. “Everything you do is magic, love. I could watch you all day.”

“I’m a witch, dummy. Of course everything I do is magic.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He went back to throwing random ingredients into his pot and you couldn’t help but laugh at the lovesick mess standing in front of you. That is, until the cauldron exploded.

“Mr. Weasley, Miss Y/L/N, you insufferable idiots.” Of course Snape would blame you too. “Detention tonight.”

You groaned and slammed your head onto the table, but Fred just wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Isn’t that great? Now we can spend even more time together.”

“Don’t remind me Weasley.”

------------------------------

The rest of the day had gone by surprisingly smoothly. George and Lee tried to distract Fred for a few hours to give you a little peace and quiet, but he always found his way back to your side. You started to attract odd glances as you moved through the castle with Fred’s hands intertwined with yours and his constant complimenting that made you turn even deeper shades of red.

You tried to avoid public spaces as much as possible. If people saw the way Fred was acting around you it wouldn’t take long for them to piece everything together and recognize the effects of a semi-illegal love potion. And you really didn’t want to be known as the girl who forced someone to fall in love with you, even if it was a complete accident.

However, dinner was difficult. Fred walked into the Great Hall with his arm draped over your shoulder, booping your nose and handing you a flower he had picked from the courtyard. You blushed and quickly put it in the pocket of your robe, hoping no one would notice. But they did.

“Finally!” someone shouted, and you turned to the Hufflepuff table to see Cedric Diggory yelling. “MacMillan, you owe me 5 galleons!”

You furrowed your brow in confusion and turned to look at Angelina and George, who avoided eye contact with you. “Guys, what is he talking about?”

The four of you sat down, followed by Lee. Fred’s arm stayed stuck to you, even when you tried to shove him off. Angelina looked a little sheepish as she took a seat in front of you.

“Well, we tried to keep it from you and Fred because we didn’t want it to get awkward, but…”

“Everyone has bets on when they thought you two were gonna shag, or at least snog or get together or something,” Lee piped up.

You looked between the faces of your friends, searching for a joke. “You’re kidding. I know you’re kidding.”

George just shook his head and gave a small laugh. “Nope. Everyone’s in on it too. Even heard McGonagall and Dumbledore discussing their bets.”

Your jaw dropped and you looked up at Fred. “Did you know about this?”

“The only thing I know, bunny, is how incredibly adorable you are.” He leaned his head on your shoulder and nuzzled himself into you, breathing in your scent.

Your mind started to race with what this meant. “Oh no, now everyone’s going to be paying attention to us! How am I supposed to explain it in two days when suddenly we’re back to normal and everyone’s asking what happened? I’m gonna be in so much trouble…”

“Better you than me,” said Lee, who was growing increasingly more glad that your plan backfired and he wasn’t the one having to deal with Fred.

“I hate this so much.” You tried your best to eat your dinner in peace, but with people congratulating you and passing around money the entire meal you started to lose your appetite. You completely lost it when you saw George grab a few sickles from a Ravenclaw student.

“You bet on this too?” He shrugged sheepishly and looked down to count the coins in his hands. “I told you, everyone knew you were gonna get together, might as well place my own bets on it.”

“Are you forgetting Georgie,” you said, starting to get angry with him, “that we’re not together?”

A few confused heads turned your way and you immediately quieted down. If you had to play along, then that was what you would do.

You stood up and grabbed Fred’s hand in yours. “C’mon, Fred, it’s time for detention. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” They said their goodbyes as you rushed out of the Great Hall, ignoring the comments thrown in your direction.

The two of you arrived in Snape’s classroom and you practically broke down the door, just ready to get all of this over with.

“Miss Y/L/N, please refrain from damaging my classroom any more than you and your idiot boyfriend already have.” The greasy professor stood in the corner, flipping through the pages of one of his potions books.

“He’s not an idiot, professor. And he’s not my--” you stopped yourself from correcting your teacher and instead opted for quietly dragging your ‘boyfriend’ over to where your detention assignment was.

“I want this room spotless, do you understand me? Not a speck of dust. And if I find out that you two have gotten up to anything...funny--”

“Trust me professor, you don’t have to worry about that.” You looked at Fred whose eyes were glassy and looking at you. You had to admit, the thought of something happening with Fred had crossed your mind in the past, but you knew it was only a fleeting thought. Besides, you would never take advantage of your best friend or anyone for that matter, especially when he was literally under a spell that made him fall in love with you. You’d have to be really careful with anything Fred did while the two of you were alone.

Snape set out a checklist for your tasks for the night before sweeping his cape dramatically and gliding out of his classroom.

“So,” Fred began with a sly grin, “now that we’re alone…”

“Not a chance Weasley. You’re under a love potion and I want to get this done quick so I can head to bed and pretend this day never happened. So let’s get to work.”

He pouted and tried to put his arm around your waist but you slapped it away. “I’m serious Fred. If you love me then you’ll help, ok?”

Fred’s expression changed quickly and he nodded with enthusiasm, grabbing all the supplies needed to begin cleaning. You couldn’t help but stare at your best friend gleefully prance around the room, sweeping all of the dust while humming that familiar tune under his breath.

Your mind went back to what your friends were saying earlier at dinner. Did everyone really think that you two would get together? I mean, you did always flirt with each other, but that was just how you were. Your personalities bounced off of each other so well, which led to you being practically inseparable for the past few years. Even after his pranks and jokes you could never be mad at him for more than a day, and you always found your way back to his side.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t notice that the boy was suddenly right behind you. “Dance with me, my love?”

As you turned you saw him bowing with an arm extended to you, and you couldn’t help but giggle at him as his long red hair covered his face. “Fred, I told you, nothing’s gonna happen tonight.”

But he grabbed your hand anyways and pulled you tighter to him. “Who says anything has to happen? This is just a friendly dance with the love of my life.”

“There’s not even any music, how are we supposed to dance?” He dipped you down and pulled you back up to his chest. You hated to admit it, but his lovesick state was growing on you.

“We can dance to the beats of our hearts, my dear.” And the feelings were gone. You rolled your eyes at his tacky remark and had to remind yourself that this was just a fabrication of love and obsession that was created in a cauldron and consumed by your friend against his will. But some innocent dancing wouldn’t hurt.

“Fine,” you said, “we can dance for a little bit, but then we work, got it?”

He cupped your face and his thumb rested on your slightly parted lips. “Anything for you, my love.”

While you hated the cheesiness of Fred’s words, you had to admit that dancing haphazardly around the potions room, knocking over empty cauldrons and vials, was pretty fun. Fred hummed the song he had been humming nonstop for the past few days as he spun you around and pulled you back close.

There were many instances where he tried to press his lips to yours, but every time you would spin away and distract him with some more dancing. His smile grew wider and wider after every second, and you thought it was a sight you could get used to. You probably would have continued to dance all night, except for the fact that you tripped over the broom Fred used earlier and it reminded you that you had a punishment to fulfill.

But while you cleaned up the mess you couldn’t stop yourself from staring at the ginger boy across the room, and wondering what it would be like to dance with the real him some day.

------------------------------

You awoke with an awful crick in your neck and aches all over your body. As your eyes adjusted to the dim light you realized that you weren’t in your dorm room lying on your comfy four poster bed. No, you had fallen asleep sitting against a wall of the potions room floor, with Fred laying his head on your lap, still fast asleep.

You blushed at the position, but selfishly stayed still for a few minutes, staring at the slow rising and falling of Fred’s chest. He’d always been the cuter twin in your opinion. Slightly shorter, but with a rounder face and less bumped nose than his brother. His soft features were a huge contrast to his sharp and blunt personality, and they balanced each other so perfectly.

He slowly shifted so his head was facing you, still laying on your lap. He looked up through his lashes, smiling softly.

“Hey beautiful, hope you slept well.” Your heart melted at his words, along with his deep morning voice. But you had to remind yourself that this wasn’t real. It would never be real.

“I reckon you slept fine, you had me as a pillow.” You lifted his head and shoved him off of you, standing up to brush yourself off. “I was stuck leaning against these cold walls with a 6’ 3” ginger laying on top of me. Best sleep of my life.”

That was when the reality of what happened actually kicked in. It was the next morning, and the two of you were still in your clothes from yesterday and still in Snape’s classroom, who was bound to return any minute.

“Shit.” You grabbed your friends hands and dragged him to the door. “C’mon Freddie, we have to get back to the Common Room before Snape sees us. Or someone else.”

“Who cares who sees love?” He stopped in his tracks which made you fly back into him. “I want the whole world to know how much I love my little angel.”

“I care who sees. And you don’t love me Fred, it’s the spell. C’mon let’s hurry up, please.” No matter how many times you tried to explain the love potion Fred just wouldn’t listen. But he finally decided to follow you through the labyrinth of the dungeon and back to Gryffindor tower.

You thought you were home free before you heard a voice from behind you. “Looks like someone had a fun night, didn’t she?”

You increased your pace and shouted back at the laughing figure, clad in green and silver. “Sod off Malfoy, it’s none of your business or anyone else’s for that matter.”

But he just continued to laugh and ran away, probably to tell his goons all about what he saw protruding from Snape’s classroom early in the morning.

“He’s a real arse, isn’t he, doll?” Fred’s words made a small smile spread on your face, glad that the potion didn’t take all of his personality away.

“Yeah he is, Freddie. Now let’s get you dressed and ready for class, ok?”

Fred grinned as you spoke the Gryffindor password to the fat lady. “Only if you promise to meet me in the courtyard for lunch. I have a surprise for you bunny.”

You pushed him through the door and back to his room. “Fine, but don’t call me bunny, ok?” He nodded reluctantly. “Oh and Fred?”

The boy turned around and stared at you dopily, hanging on to every word you said.

“Please give me my tie back. I see it in your pocket.”

Fred sighed and gave you his best puppy dog eyes, which almost worked. But he eventually grabbed the tie and handed it to you. “Just wanted something to remember you by, that’s all rabbit.”

“I think that’s worse than bunny. Now get dressed and meet me back here for class. And if anyone asks you where we were last night, you lie, ok? We were in our dorms.”

He nodded so hard you thought his head would fall off. “Yes ma’am! How about a goodbye kiss?”

You sighed and kissed him on the cheek. “That’s all you get. Now off you go Weasley.”

Fred skipped back into his dorm room and started singing some song, which quickly turned into a scream, making you assume that one of his roommates had attacked him for waking them up so early. One day down, one to go. Easy, right? But what scared you was you didn’t know if you wanted this to end or if you wanted it to continue forever.

------------------------------

“He’s insufferable, Angie. How am I supposed to deal with this again? Especially alone.” It was only minutes away from when Fred was supposed to take you out to lunch, and you really didn’t want to see him, especially since you had no idea how to feel about him now.

Angelina smiled at you and sat down in the courtyard. “He can’t be that bad. It’s Fred!”

You gave her an ‘are you serious’ look. She nodded in understanding. “Yeah, ok it’s probably bad.”

“I just want things to go back to normal,” you groaned. “But that won’t even happen, because everyone thinks we’re dating now! Oh he’s gonna hate me when the potion wears off.”

“As if Fred could ever hate you, Y/N. You’re his favorite person, he’s said so himself.” Her words were not helping the internal crisis you were having.

“But what is everyone going to think? There’s no way they’ll believe we broke up after two days, and it’s not like Fred would play along and fake date me. I’m doomed.”

“You’re overdramatic, that’s what you are. We’ll figure it out, ok? And Fred will help once he’s back to normal. He could never get mad at you.”

“I hope you’re right. I just wish that he’d keep everything quiet and not make any big scenes.” The second you said that you saw Fred approaching you, but not from the ground. No, the drama queen decided to fly down on a broom, attracting everyone’s attention. “Oh great.”

“Have fun on your date you lovebirds!” Angelina called after you. You flipped her off as you walked to where Fred had landed.

“Hello lovely, care for a ride?” Everyone was staring at you and you wanted nothing more than to get out of there. A display like this probably wouldn’t have bothered you if it was with someone you were actually dating, but the more people saw you and Fred together the more complicated an explanation would be.

So you hopped on the back of his broom and whispered for him to fly away, fast. You zoomed through the air, away from the castle and down toward the Black Lake.

The strong lake air filled your nose as your hair whipped around your face at top speed. You wrapped your arms around Fred tighter as he made twists and turns in every direction, causing you to scream and laugh at his antics.

The afternoon sky was beautiful, and you took a mental note to do this again sometime, preferably with the man sitting in front of you.

Fred finally landed the broom on an open piece of land, wildflowers blooming all around and the wind whistling in your ears.

He grabbed your hand as you stepped off the broom and led you to a spot set up with a blanket and a basket of food.

“Freddie…” It was too much for you to take in. This love potion must have been powerful stuff to make him go out of his way to do this for you.

“Come here, dove, let’s eat.”

You were speechless as you sat down on the blanket and were handed an assortment of foods, from mini sandwiches to grapes and strawberries to cupcakes for dessert. Fred grinned at the shocked expression on your face.

“Fred, I...I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything, love.” He leaned in toward you, eyes flicking down to your lips. His beautiful, soft lips. At the last second before your lips met you grabbed a grape and plopped it into his mouth. Fred looked surprised at first, but he quickly recovered and did the same thing to you, feeding you a grape that he grabbed from the basket. This quickly turned into a food fight, with the two of you grabbing handfuls of fruit and chucking them at each other, diving out of the way and making barricades to protect yourselves.

You were laughing harder than you ever had before, so much so that the two of you lost track of time.

“Oh, shoot, Fred. It’s probably time for our next class.” You tried to grab all of the supplies and pull him over to his broom, but his big hands wrapped around you from behind and held you in place.

“Don’t leave, darling. I want to spend every minute of every day with you.” He rocked you from side to side, his words sending shivers down your back. You knew his words weren’t his. Deep down, you knew that this wasn’t the real Fred Weasley talking. But that didn’t stop you for pretending that it was real, at least for a few seconds.

“Don’t say things like that, Freddie,” you said, unwrapping yourself from his hold. “You’re only making this harder than it already is.”

He followed you to the broom, you carrying the basket and blanket while tangling your arms around him again. You took off into the sky and you closed your eyes, soaking up every ounce of this fleeting beautiful moment.

------------------------------

“So how are things with my brother going? Do I hear wedding bells in the future?”

You slapped George upside the head and huffed as you sat down for dinner, ignoring the laughs from your friends.

“Shut up, George, I’m just glad this day is almost over. All I have to do is make it through dinner and then we can go back to our dorms and go to bed.”

Lee gave you a suggestive smile. “Yeah, our dorms. Just like what you two did last night.”

George started cackling like a hyena and you smashed your hand over Lee’s mouth. “Don’t say one word about that,” you hissed. “Malfoy’s already talking to enough people, I don’t want Fred thinking I took advantage of him and slept with him while he was practically drugged!”

This seemed to get through to the boys and they quieted down.

“Nothing did happen though, right?” George was starting to get nervous, finally realizing what could’ve happened to his brother in this state.

You shook your head. “Of course not. Only some dancing and falling asleep in awkward positions.”

“I am so glad that wasn’t me then,” Lee joked, trying to lighten the mood. You smiled slightly and turned to look for the man of the hour.

“Hey, where is Fred anyways? We haven’t been apart for this long since he ate the brownie.”

As soon as you spoke your words, Angelina sprinted into the room and sat next to you. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I tried to stop him but he wouldn’t listen.”

Your eyes went wide at Angelina’s words. “Angie, what are you talking about?”

Suddenly the doors to the Great Hall were flung open, and in rode Fred on his broom, throwing rose petals from a basket he was carrying.

“Oh no,” you muttered.

“Oh yes,” said George, who tapped Colin Creevey and asked him to get as many pictures of this as possible.

Fred made a couple of laps around the hall and landed right in front of you. “Hello, lovely, are you ready for the show?”

You wanted nothing more than to crawl under the table and hide for the rest of eternity, but Lee was holding you in place and you were forced to witness the monstrosity of what was about to happen.

Fred waved his wand at a nearby Muggle radio that he had planted, and the song he had been humming for the past few days came on, blaring louder than a normal radio should be able to. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, Fred began to sing.

“Baby c’mon over I don’t care if people find out!”

George whistled at the scene and Creevey snapped a photo, the first of many to come.

“They say that we’re no good together and it’s never gonna work out.”

You scanned the room frantically, looking for someone to help you out of this situation. But even Dumbledore looked intrigued as he sat back in his seat.

“But, baby, you got me moving too fast,”

He kicked some food off of the table and it landed next to Malfoy, splattering his face with warm mashed potatoes.

“Cause I know you wanna be bad,”

Fred started to do a very provocative dance move involving his broom and you could hear dozens of girls cheering for him.

“And girl, when you’re looking like that, I can’t hold back!”

He held your face in his hands and pressed a kiss to your forehead before jumping on his broom and flying around the room, singing the chorus of the song at the top of his lungs.

“Cause you, you’ve got this spell on me!”

Oh if only he knew.

“I don’t know what to believe”

He did a loop on his broom and winked at you, making you smile against your will. No matter how annoying Fred was, especially under a love spell, he was still cute.

“Kiss you once, now I can’t leave! Cause everything you do is magic, but everything you do is magic.”

He continued the song getting louder with each verse and making occasional stops to give you a small peck on the cheeks or forehead.

After what felt like an eternity, the song died down and cheers from every table grew, even the Slytherins getting excited about the display.

Fred landed next to you and sat down, hugging you tightly into his chest. “I love you, Y/N, with all of my heart.”

You felt yourself give in to your desires and you hugged him back tightly. “I love you too Weasley. More than you’ll ever know.”

He finally released you and you went back to your meals, your red blush not once leaving your face throughout dinner. After you and your friends finished you made your way back to your rooms.

“I think I’m gonna turn in early Freddie, ok?” You didn’t really give him a chance to respond before you stepped into your room and started getting ready for bed. As you brushed your teeth and put on your pjs, the events from the past few days raced through your head. You pushed the thoughts out of your mind. After tomorrow morning, they wouldn’t matter. You and Fred would be back to your normal friendly selves and you would be struggling to come up with a way to justify the scene he had made in front of the entire school.

As you pulled the covers up over your body you heard a shy knock on the door. Assuming it was Angelina you yelled for her to come in, only to see Fred standing in the doorway looking at you.

You sat up slowly and gazed at the tall man, the one you felt yourself falling for even more in the past two days. “What’s up Freddie, are you alright?”

He nodded and made his way to sit on your bed. “I can’t sleep. Wanna sleep here with you. Can I sleep with you my love?”

You blushed at his words but nodded, scooting over to let him crawl into bed with you. You made sure to stay as far away from Fred as possible, but it didn’t help that he was constantly trying to pull you closer.

“Fred,” you said, shifting out of his hold once again. “We shouldn’t be doing this. You’re not in your right mind and I don’t want normal Fred to wake up and wonder why we’re laying together.”

“But I wanna be here with you, pumpkin.”

You sat up again and adjusted the pillows underneath him so he would be comfortable. “How about you sleep here and I can lay on the floor, ok? That way I’m still close to you.”

Fred whimpered at the lack of heat from your body, but he nodded as you made a makeshift bed on the ground. Two days in a row sleeping on the floor. You guessed this was payback for ever thinking you could get back at Fred Weasley.

You slowly fell asleep on the ground, listening to Fred’s soft breathing and your own pounding heart. Everything would be different in the morning. Everything would be normal again.

------------------------------

You woke up early again, more aches and pains haunting your body. Groaning, you sat up to look for Fred, but he had disappeared. Had the potion worn off and he decided to head to his own bed? No, it wasn’t a full 48 hours yet, there was still a little time left.

Your bathroom door shot open and out bounced Fred, looking more energetic than you had ever seen him this early in the morning.

“Glad you’re up, love. I’ve got something to show you.”

Before you could protest, Fred was dragging you out of the Gryffindor tower and straight to the Astronomy Tower, which was usually empty this time of day. You were still clad in your pajamas but you figured no one would see you this early.

You made your way to the top and saw what Fred had meant. There was another blanket set up, but with a radio sitting on it instead of a basket of food.

“I figured we could watch the sunrise together, sunshine,” he whispered into your ear, before pulling you onto the blanket with him.

Fred turned on the radio and some soft music began to play. He threw his arm around your shoulders but you shrugged it off, knowing that the potion was going to wear off any minute now.

“Y/N?” Fred asked.

You looked at him tilted your head, gesturing for him to continue.

“You know I love you, right?”

The look in his eyes made you want to break down. He was so beautiful, sitting in the glow of the sunrise. His eyes gleamed brown and gold, and you wanted nothing more than to get lost in them.

“Yeah, Freddie. I know. Right now you do.”

Fred looked like he was about to say something else, when he started to get dizzy and he had to steady himself by holding onto your shoulders.

“Fred, are you alright?”

He didn’t answer, but instead took a deep breath and looked up at you.

Fred shot away faster than a snitch at a Quidditch game, and you knew this was it. Your prank was over.

“Y/N? What, how…? What’s going on? Did I just say I loved you? Bloody hell…” Fred’s head was spinning and you tried to calm him down.

“Hey, it’s alright, don’t worry Fred.” You took his hand in yours and pulled him closer to you. “What do you remember?”

You didn’t know how this specific love potion worked in regards to memories. Whether Fred would completely forget the last two days or if he would remember them completely, you had no idea. Either way you planned on filling him in on everything. He deserved to know.

“I, umm, I remember eating a brownie, and, and I needed to tell you something, but you looked too beautiful and I couldn’t. And all I wanted to do was tell you how amazing and incredible you are...and there was detention, and a picnic, and--did I really sing that song to you in front of everyone?”

You laughed at the boy who finally felt the embarrassment of his actions. “Yes you did Freddie, but it’s not your fault.”

He furrowed his brow at you. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” you began, “you know how you’re an insufferable twat who likes to prank me all the time?”

Fred smiled and gently nudged your shoulder. “That I do know, continue.”

“So, Angelina and I decided to get back at you, using my expertise in potions.”

His face dropped. “Potions? What potions? Did you use a potion on me?”

You felt horrible having to explain this to your friend. While nothing bad happened during the last two days, you couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Fred. “You see, we sort of concocted a love potion to give you, as a joke--”

“What?” he screamed incredulously.

You jumped as he spoke and he pulled his hands back from you.

“A love potion? Are you serious?”

“I-I’m sorry Freddie, we didn’t think you’d get this upset, it was honestly--”

“So this… all of this?” Fred looked as if he was going to explode. He was tugging at his hair so hard you expected him to pull it out. “You toyed with me? You played with my feelings? So everything I’ve felt for you the last year has been nothing more than a stupid love potion?”

You were taken aback by his harsh words, dumbstruck by the side of Fred you’d never seen before. He was furious, and not at Snape or Malfoy like usual. He was furious with you.

“Fred, what--”

“I can’t believe you, Y/N. I’ve been in love with you since the summer and now I find out that my feelings aren’t even real, just one big joke. Is that all I am? Just a joke to you?”

What was he talking about? The potion didn’t make up false memories of love. He shouldn’t have been in love with you for longer than the 48 hours. You reached forward to put your hand on his shoulder but he shrugged it off.

“Freddie,” you began, “we gave you the potion two days ago. Everything else was...not our doing. I promise you that. We just thought it would be a fun joke and we knew it would rub off quickly. But I swear, we haven’t been toying with you. I care about you too much to do that.”

You’d never seen Fred look more confused in his entire life, and that was counting the time that you took polyjuice to make yourself look like him and convince him that you were his long lost triplet.

“You...I...only two days?” He turned to face the edge of the tower, staring into the sunrise. You moved with him and ended up sitting in front of him, so close that you were practically on his lap.

“I gave you the potion thinking that you were going to fall in love with Lee. But you of course had to ruin the plan and fall in love with me instead. Everything you’ve been feeling for the past two days in fake. But other than that, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your brain was racing with possibilities of what he could mean about the last year. It settled on one, but there was no way that could be it.

You rubbed your thumb over Fred’s knuckles soothingly as you watched him try to comprehend what was going on. “So, the butterflies I got when I saw you in a swimsuit over the summer? The way my heart beats faster every time you look at me? The way I can feel myself falling in love with everything you do? That’s not...that’s not fake?”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat. Butterflies? Heart beating? Falling in love? “Fred, if this is some sort of reverse joke to get back at me it’s not funny at all.”

He shifted and pulled you into a tight hug as he noticed your vulnerability, so uncommon with you. “Of course this isn’t a joke, love. But you have to tell me, was it all real? Please tell me it was all real and that the potion’s over with now.”

You smiled and felt small tears prick your eyes. “The potions over, Freddie. Whatever you felt before and whatever you feel now...it’s real. There’s no spell on you anymore.”

Fred pulled back from the hug and cupped your cheek in his hands. His eyes seared into yours and you never wanted to look away. “Y’know,” you whispered, “sometimes I wonder if you’ve got me under a spell.”

Fred laughed and twisted your hair in his fingers. You thought he had never looked more handsome laughing at you in the morning light. “That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard you say, love.”

You scoffed at his remark. “You got up and sang that to me in front of the entire school!” you nearly shouted, slapping his chest.

“Yeah, while I was literally under a love potion that you gave me! Just that desperate for me, are you?”

You knew he was joking, but he was poking at the truth. “Maybe I am Freddie, maybe I--”

But you didn’t have time to finish, because you were cut off by his lips on yours. It caught you by surprise, but it wasn’t long until you melted into the kiss. His one hand rested on the small of your back and the other moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

You sighed into the long overdue kiss and crawled on top of the love of your life, straddling his hips.

Your hands played with his hair like they had countless times before, but this time it was different. This time it really meant something, to the both of you. Fred pulled you closer and you shifted so you were pushing him onto his back. Unfortunately, neither of you were very aware of your surroundings and his head hit the radio, forcing it to change stations.

The two of you giggled and continued to make out in the morning sun, but you stopped once you heard the song that came on.

“Is that…” you asked.

“It can’t be. There’s no way.”

But the radio was without a doubt playing the song that the whole school was now familiar with. You sat up and stared at Fred, eyes asking him if he somehow planned this.

Fred just shrugged and pulled you back onto him. “Must be magic love.” You smiled and went in to kiss him again. As the song ended Fred spoke the last lyrics into you, sending shivers down your spine.

“But everything you do is magic.”

#fredweasley #fred x reader #fred #fredweasleyfluff #hogwarts #georgeweasley #leejordan #fred weasley x reader

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theji · 3 years ago

Text

Things Yizhan Made Me Do

It's BXG Day today! 🐢💛

To commemorate the occasion, I thought of making a list of 13 out-of-character things that I've done since falling into the fandom. (OK I'm a bit late I meant to do this sooner, the day is ending soon in a couple of hours).

1. Start a blog

And a public one, no less. I had a blog when I was in my teens but that was private, like a personal diary. My day job already involves writing so off-work I would usually like to indulge in mindless activities. Now, here I am, maintaining a Yizhan blog. I have not even used Tumblr prior to this but I'm enjoying it now, rambling about our fav boys. Writing is not a chore if it's about them.

2. Join a fandom

I joined a boy band fan club once upon a time, some 15 years ago, but I was never as invested in it as I am now with Yizhan. Back then it was just buying some merch, attending their concert/autograph sessions, listening to their songs. Apart from work, dog mum duties, personal relationships, other hobbies like kombucha brewing, most of my free time is now spent on the fandom. My Netflix account is crying. There is just so much to do and catch up on (I'm not complaining). I also enjoy interacting with and learning from other bloggers here. Antis are no fun and some industry news/developments/hate messages are upsetting but ultimately, you curate your own fandom experience. And I choose positivity and rationality.

3. Indulge in RPS

I don't ever 'ship'. What is 'ship'? 😆 I was always a dutiful audience, just enjoying whatever drama series and moving on after that. I started with CQL like most people and I didn't even notice/like GGDD until much later. Didn't even set out to 'ship' anyone but now I'm a self-professed turtle. SZD is SZD, and anyone can see something special between them if you keep an open mind. I wrote about my SZD reasons here previously. That said, GG & DD are individuals, each with their own successful careers. They come first, the ship comes second. That I'm very clear of.

4. Use Chinese apps

Gosh, my phone and tablet are now full of Chinese apps. I used to have only WeChat cos I needed it for work but now I have Weibo, Oasis, Douyin, WeTV, MangoTV, Youku, etc. Some of them are not even available in the app store so I had to find alternative sources to download them. haha..I even have paid membership for some of these apps. And now, browsing Weibo daily becomes a routine. If you wish, you can just get stuck browsing Weibo for a long long time. It's entertaining.

5. Read fan fic

I only started about 6 months ago but now I'm hooked and fics are largely the only thing I read these days, apart from news. But I only read Yizhan or WangXian fics (p.s. calling for fic recs of other pairings!) I know some might have different feelings about fan fics but to me, I really just see them as fiction, with characters (and sometimes traits) bearing similarities to GGDD. Similarly, I separate the platform from the incident so I have no problems going to A03 despite GG's incident. I just enjoy seeing the characters named XZ/WYB having happy endings in many different timelines and universes. While most of the fics I read are explicit (by design), I don't use them as tools to play out certain fantasies or to think of GGDD in a sexual manner. In fact, I really hate fics that have little substance and just go into the explicit parts without plot development. I like those with interesting premises too, like one I read recently where XZ is a serial killer and WYB is a police officer investigating the case but also in love with him. I do have plans to share my list of fav fan fics some time down the road so keep an eye out for it!

6. Willingly read Chinese

Yes, Chinese may be my mother tongue but I don't use it much in daily living unless I have to. I also find it tedious to read Chinese cos the characters are just so squashed together. If I have a choice, I will always pick English. But now, I read so much Chinese from my daily weibo browsing. I even read fan fics in Chinese! Who am I? On the plus side, I think my Chinese comprehension and translation skills improved. I also picked up some internet lingo used by Chinese netizens, which are pretty interesting like doi, 🐮🍺, 🖍. My all-time fav is yyds.

7. Act like a cougar

In real life, I have always maintained that younger men are childish. At least those I have encountered. But look at me now, fangirling over two younger men (I am closer in age to GG, but still..). I even jokingly call them my 'China Boyfriends'. I look at them very respectfully most of the time.

8. Buy merch

Seriously, once you start, you can't stop. At least that was what happened to me, although I'm still quite selective when it comes to supporting their endorsements. I usually go for consumables like food, cosmetics vs collectibles cos I'm more practical. Also, GG says to support their merch within reasonable means so that's what I'm doing. Just buying things that I'm interested to try and not because it has their faces or names slapped on it. In a way, this suits me cos I like trying new brands and stuff anyway.

9. Keeping a Yizhan archive

Photos, weblinks, videos, songs, fan fics list..my phone is full of these things now. I think my Yizhan photo gallery is only second to the folder with my dogs' pictures. But how can you resist when we are blessed with new pics of them almost every week?

10. Camp for livestreams

I'm lucky I live in the same time zone as the boys so I don't have to wake up in the wee hours of the morning just to watch something. But that's the thing, being in the same time zone sometimes make me feel like I HAVE to watch that thing live because, why not? Why wait? Not shy to admit that I once watched a live programme in the middle of work but I made sure I finished what needed to be done. I think so long as we don't let these livestream schedules run our lives, there's no harm in camping for them.

11. Watch c entertainment

I am one of those who used to pass over Chinese productions, simply because it's a Chinese production. Not in a scoffing manner but I'm just genuinely not interested in them nor the celebs. I was more of a US/UK production kind of person, occasionally Korean/Japanese. Now, I'm learning to enjoy them although I just watch those with GGDD in them. No energy to follow other Chinese celebs anyway. The other programme I'm contemplating watching even if it doesn't have them in it is Who's the Murderer (GG was only in one of the cases) cos I like the premise. On the flip side, now my sis and partner keep making fun of me cos to them, all I do now is "watch China shows". That is so not true. Or is it?

12. Write fan mail

I wrote a letter to GG once. A long-ass letter. I hope he read it. That's all I'm gonna say. 🙈 hahahahaha

13. Desire to visit China

China was never on my list of to-visit places. Just wasn't interested. I have been to Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou a few times in the past for work but even then, I never felt the urge to revisit for leisure. Now, I wanna visit GG and DD's home town, visit Chongqing to see the graffiti wall with Bobii Zanbii on it, eat mala hotpot and try out their sauce recipe, attend BXG events, dine at the CQL restaurant... Watching TTXS also made me realise that there are many beautiful places in China with natural landscapes and all that. I used to be clouded by my disdain for the regime and some behaviour of its citizens but now, I recognise that the country is separate from the regime or a smaller group of poorly behaved citizens. China is a beautiful country and I would love to visit some day. I will fly over immediately on my own if someone gives me tix to ADLAD!!

Well, I hope some of these things resonate with you. Feel free to share the OOC things that Yizhan made you do.

Once again, Happy BXG Day! 🐢💛🐆🐇🐷🌶🦁🍑🐶🍍🛹🎋

#yizhan #bjyx #things yizhan made me do

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ettawritesnstudies · 3 years ago

Note

hi hi! how's it going? let's do 5, 14, and 20 for the ask game, if you'd like 😊

Hey, I'm doing well. Thanks for the ask!

5. do you listen to music while writing or no? if yes, what’s your favorite kind of music to listen to?

my music taste is all OVER the place, but yes, I do listen to music while I write! I'm weird because I can tolerate lyrical music but only songs that have themes matching the story. So I make playlists for certain characters and WIPs! I'd love to put together soundtracks for each scene too one day, but that's a lot more time consuming than scanning through the stanzas and deciding yay or nay. If I'm writing something intense and can't listen to lyrics, I'll usually look up "epic fantasy writing music with x vibe" depending on the scene.

If you're interested, these are my Storge and Runaways playlists which are probably the most organized!

14. what’s your favorite thing about writing?

I really love the human connection. I love creating characters that represent pieces of myself and the people I know, and worlds that hold a mirror to our own. It gives me a sense of perspective and a way to process. And sharing it with others. I would still write even if not a soul read the story, because I'm creative and I couldn't survive without doing this. But at the same time, witnessing someone's creation (whether that's art or writing or music etc.) is the closest we can get to understanding each other's bared souls, and I think it's beautiful we can do that so freely nowadays. The writeblr community is one of the best things to happen to me in my writing journey. I realized when I quit "social media" for Lent that I didn't miss instagram at all, but leaving tumblr felt like moving away from home, and I'm very glad to be back. I'm thankful for the opportunity to have met all of you and read your work, however brief in passing <3

20. how do you usually come up with story ideas?

oh in the most random of ways ahaha. Inspiration is boundless but the right idea has to meet the right circumstances in which I have enough mental bandwith to entertain a new WIP (or I've gone insane enough from Real Life) for anything to click. Music/lyrics, my science classes (especially when the prof is passionate about what they're teaching), a pretty flower or cool rock I found on my walk, a random post crossing my dash or a YT video in my recommendations, rubber duck debugging with a friend, or a raw line from someone else's story that got stuck in my head and twisted around. A lot of my favorite ideas are off-beat intersections of unlikely interests. I like experimenting and subverting tropes.

I hope you have a nice night!

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babytaes · 3 years ago

Text

Serenity

➳ 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: You run into an old friend on the way to pick up your delivery, who seems to be waiting for his pizza as well.

❥ 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: joshua x female reader

❥ 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: college au, fluff, slice of life

❥ 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 3K

➳ part of the song series

↳ I was hoping it'd be different when I saw you but it feels the same

Never changed

I was certain I'd flushed you out my system

But you're printed in my DNA

Your head slammed onto the desk as a wave of exhaustion washed through you. Professors enjoy assigning all of this work and expect it to be completed promptly. Sadly, I'm not a genie who can just wish it away.

When you turned around to face your roommate, who seemed to be in the same situation as you, a low growl came from her throat. To see if she was awake, you threw a pen at her back.

Without even looking up a small moan struggled to come out as she turned to face you.

As you stared at the disheveled state in front of you, a gasp echoed from your throat.

“Damn, you got it rough. Maybe more than me.”

She flung your pen back at you with a sly smile on her lips, dodging to the left as it hurled at your face. This was so out of character for both of you. Although both of you had great study habits in high school, junior year of college was beating your asses. Like kicking it.

You grunted as you walked over to your bed and plopped down to relieve some stress, grabbing the stray books and hurling them onto the floor

Seon-ah chuckled and twirled her pen in her chair as she examined your body, which was still but also very tense.

“Hey, how about we unwind for a while and maybe get a bite to eat? You know food will give us more energy and willpower to finish these last few class assignments. What do you say?"

She closed her eyes and crossed her fingers in an attempt to sway you. Fortunately, you just let her win today, as shown by your growling stomach. For most days, you wouldn't eat or take a rest until all of your work was completed. Was it beneficial to you? Perhaps not, but it did motivate you to complete the task quickly.

You propelled yourself up and toward your laptop, raising a fist in the air.

“What a great idea, Seon-ah; how about some pizza? I'll pay for it.”

As a thank you, she squealed and jumped up and down in her chair, giving you spontaneous heart signals.

You smiled as you rolled your eyes at her and turned your attention to the computer in front of you. It was almost as though you could taste it. The buttery fluffy crust melting in your mouth as the various spices and flavors swirl around inside. Anyway...

“I'm getting our usual Moe's pizza with pineapple and pepperoni. Will be in 15 minutes. Let the break time commence ”

Seon-ah spun around and looked at you with a worried expression on her face.

"This is not the Hunger Games, Y/N?”

You threw your pillow at her as she laughed and walked over to her side of the room, sitting down on the bed, resting her eyes.

“Wake me up when the food arrives; in the meantime, I'll get some beauty rest.”

You snickered as you returned your gaze to your phone, which you had started idly scrolling through on social media, silently saying.

“You could use it.”

“Hey, I heard that.”

Rather than waiting in your bed, you could wait near the door for easier access to the food. When you turned around and saw that Seon-ah was still sleeping, you decided to wake her up when you returned with the goodies.

You quickly gather your slides, key card, and phone, as well as a few dollars for the tip. Before heading down to the lobby to get your food, you double-checked to see if the door was locked.

You put your earbuds in and press play on your latest playlist, which included some of your favorite tracks. On the way to the downstairs lobby you did a little jig.

As you came off the stairwell, a pair of men's eyes fell on you. Not only were you dancing a little too good, but you never expected to see this person in a while. When you began walking over to him, he smiled and grinned as you quickly removed your earbuds.

“Hey there... Long time no see. I hope you didn't witness that."

He laughed and shook his head as he waved his hand at you.

“How are you doing? I saw some of it, sadly. Wonderful moves.”

It felt like your heart was racing faster than normal, something it didn't usually do unless you were taking a test. However, as you stared at him longer, things began to seep back into your heart.

You coughed and rubbed the back of your neck, trying to say something to ease the awkward tension in the air.

“So-”

“Wha-”

He laughed at you and extended his hand to you, signaling that you should begin.

“What brings you here, Joshua, at this fateful hour of ten o'clock?”

He sighed and cocked his head to the side, a habit you're never tired of seeing.

“Well, Jeonghan and I wanted to order pizza, and he agreed that I should wait downstairs for it. I think he just wanted to stay in the dorm, like a lazy ass.

You chortled.

“You did always say he was some lazy bum, but I'm shocked you stuck with him this long.”

Joshua sighed as he remembered all of the times he spent with Jeonghan and his other friends, a time when you and he were never apart.

We're going to be late for orientation if you don't hurry up, Y/N.” You mentally flipped him off and dashed out of your dorm, trying to keep all of your things in your arms as you slammed the door shut.

“Josh, you should have given me another 5 minutes.”

“An extra five minutes would have put us late, and well we...., I can't afford that

“Oh shut up Hong, shall we bring up the Milk situation, or are you done?”

Joshua came to a complete stop and rolled his eyes at you as he waited for you to catch up to him. As you laughed, he softly shoved you.

“I thought I told you not to bring that up anymore, and Seungcheol texted me and told us to meet them at the square,”

You laughed as you shook your head and grabbed Joshua's hand, pulling him towards the door.

“Well, we'd better get moving. Mr. 5 Minutes,”

He looked up from his sullen expression when he saw you looking at him. He blushed when he realized you were here, rather than in his memories

“Well, before I tell you how I'm doing, tell me how you're doing. I believe we haven't talked since Freshman year. A time"

You coughed and tapped your leg quickly, avoiding Joshua's eyes as you crossed over to the chair on the other side of him and sat down to get a closer look at him while mentally preparing some responses.

“You're right; I'm not sure why I'm so jittery. It's not like we were best friends at one point in our lives.”

When you folded your hands and mentally slapped yourself, a hushed silence fell over you both.

As you started, a nervous chuckle escaped your mouth

“Anyway, remember when I told you a long time ago when I wanted to start my business. Well, Seon-ah and I we're planning to apply to the Startup Fund next week for more details. If you know someone who enjoys such things, please forward this message to them.”

Joshua turned his body to face you further and shook his head, watching as your hand movement flowed as you continued to speak about the business concept. It's as if you two reconnected on a more simple level.

You looked up to see him studying your hand movement patterns, which made you come to a halt while you folded your hands as you turned away from his eyes.

“I apologize for rambling; I just get too excited talking about this with someone other than Seon-ah.”

“No, it's all right. You can proceed; I missed this.”

A gulp ran down his throat as he coughed, signaling that he needed some water. He excused himself and walked a few feet away from the lobby to the water fountain.

Great going Josh

You stood there watching as he walked over to the water fountain, hearing some mumbling but not understanding what he was saying. Instead of focusing on him, you turned your attention to yourself.

Y/N, you’re acting like a fool. He is, well was your friend. It's complicated, you know Joshua.

When you remembered why you were here, you felt a wave of calm wash over you. The DAMN PIZZA. You leapt to your feet and quickly opened your phone, where you discovered a text message.

Food is Delivered.

You let out a squeal as you walked over to the door and checked to see if the Pizza car was still waiting for you. You walked over to the car, gleefully handing him the money and thanking him for the meal.

You swiped your card and walked in the entrance, oblivious to Joshua and preoccupied with the food you were about to consume. You noticed something out of the corner of your eye as you heard him say.

“Y/N, what happened to us?

As a single tear fell from your eyes, you came to a halt and sighed, trying to catch your breath. You brushed it away and slowly turned to Joshua, feeling down and disappointed that your pizza had to wait.

As you began to approach Joshua, you let out a long-awaited sigh. You and he were like best friends for a long time. You'd meet in your freshman year of college and clicked right away. He not only exhibited a gentleman's aura, but he was also very accommodating and polite when you first met him. Despite the fact that he had some noisy and strange friends, they added to the magic.

Although life seemed to be so fine and enjoyable for you, things soon became hectic.

It was the day before your class's annual retreat to Jeju Island, where all Sophomores attended. Unfortunately, your presentation lasted longer than anticipated, and you were forced to give it on the day they all left. You weren't upset because this was something you'd always wanted to do, and you could see the possibilities opening up if you succeeded.

For Joshua, though, this was a missed opportunity to tell you how he felt about your relationship. His heart was in the right place, but the wording was incorrect. You'd stopped by his dorm to borrow a few things before heading to class.

“Why don't you just miss this one and come along with us on this trip?” You're going to miss out on all the fun we're having.”

You scoffed when you turned around.

“You know I can't do that; this presentation is half of my grade, and it has the potential to greatly expand my business opportunities.”

He chuckled and rolled his eyes without pausing to reflect.

“Why waste your time."

You turned around, stunned at what he had just said, and stopped looking for a jacket.

"Excuse me, wasting my time. Unlike you, I am not well-off and do not come from a wealthy family. There are still people who still have to struggle for their goals. I apologize if this is a "waste of time," but this is a serious matter and a dream of mine. You know what, fuck you and your jacket. I'll ask Seon-ah."

You rolled your eyes and walked out the door, completely deaf to his summons.

“I didn't mean it that way; I merely-”

You came to a halt and yelled back at him.

“Why don’t you just enjoy this “once in a lifetime trip” without me, and when you come back just go on without your life. I guess my priorities and life are now meaningful enough for you."

As you ran to your dorm, you shed a tear as your heart was crushed. Your last ray of hope for each other was shattered. You couldn't love someone who didn't understand the importance of your dream

The rain began to fall as you rushed into your dorm hall, weeping. At the very least, you had faith in yourself, and that is all that matters.

“If you're thinking about that incident, you should know that I didn't mean what I said at the time. That was a huge mistake on my part, and sophomore Joshua was a dick, and I really want to apologize for it. I didn't know how important this was to you until seeing it up close. I can see now how dedicated and enthusiastic you are about your business. And I genuinely want to say I am so sorry for the way I behave. That still doesn't help me understand why we didn't, you know, get back together as friends.

As you quickly turned away from him, a tear spilled from your eye, which you quickly wiped away. You smiled and raised your eyes to him. His gaze was still drawn to your altered demeanor. That was one of his best qualities: he could always tell when you weren't feeling yourself.

“Hey, if it's too difficult for you to talk about, we can just forget about it and go our separate ways, if that what ”

You went on, waving your hand at him and taking a breath.

“Well, I can only tell you my side of the story; I have no idea why. I guess I didn't mean it when I told you to stay out of my life. I guess I got caught up in the midst of it all. Even though I nailed the presentation, I apologize for blowing up at you. I know you were trying to help me relax, but sophomore me mistook it for you trying to restrain me.”

As you began to choke up your words, your breath began to hitch in your throat. Joshua came up to you and put his hand on your shoulder, attempting to calm you down.

You leaped to your feet and backed away from him, wiping tears from your eyes, trying to catch your breath.

“Please-ee, just stop. Stop doing that .”

"Doing what Y/N, what is going on?"

“Why aren't you angry at me if, stop being so nice to me?"

As soon as you saw him move, you fell to your knees, weeping. He was embracing you and turning your head to see what was wrong quickly. You started spitting out words he couldn't understand. He kissed you instead of trying to learn.

“Wha-”

He cupped your face with his hands as you held on to his shirt for support. Something inside of you just exploded, and it felt as though your heart had been set free. You took a step back and realized he was tearing up. As you brushed away the stray tears. You gazed into his brown eyes as he cupped your hands and kissed them.

“I've always wanted to do that; forgive me for not asking first.

“No, it's fine; in truth, that's something I've always wanted to do.”

He gasped as he processed what you had just said and looked up at you.

“Wait, don't say you had a thing for me.”

You chuckled as you brushed away the remaining tears with your sleeve and walked back to the coach section.

“Yes, Joshua, literally half the campus has had a crush on Mr. Gentleman, although you are definitely the opposite sometimes. "

“Hey, don't try to ruin my reputation around here,” he said, laughing. “I am undoubtedly a gentleman.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at his expression for a few more minutes, just soaking up the newfound bond that had just re-emerged.

Before you could take your gaze away from him, he shook his head and found your staring eyes. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into another embrace. You had a big smile on your face the whole time, holding him tightly.

“So are we good, 'cause you were definitely into that kiss."

You slapped his chest and peered up from his chest.

“Yeah, we're good, friends again.” You extended your hand to him, and he enthusiastically shook it.

"Also I was thinking we can be more than friends."

You stopped breathing for a second and processed his request, you laughed and shoved him.

"You’ve gotta ask me out properly. I'm going to forget you said that and be more surprised when you ask again."

Joshua nodded his hand and went in for another hug. Your hand abruptly landed on his chest as you remembered.

“WAIT, OUR FOOD."

You turned around and dashed to the once-steamy box, only to find a cold but still warm pizza waiting for you. You peered at Joshua, who dashed out the door and returned with his dinner, smiling fondly at you.

“I forgot we came to get our food; I've got to get this to Seon-ah; she's probably awake and hungry.”

He grinned and walked up to you, kissing your forehead before taking your hand in his and directing you to take the lead. You laughed and blushed with embarrassment when he finally saw you in all your glory.

You hastily dragged him up the stairwell and toward your dorm. You were both awkwardly still, not wanting this moment to end. You lifted your head from your trembling hands and kissed his nose before waving goodbye and entering your room. You slid to the ground, pondering what the HELL just happened.

Joshua, on the other hand, pumped a fist in the air and headed back to his dorm, grinning from ear to ear!

You regained control and put the pizza down as you stepped forward to see a groggy Seon-ah waking up, rubbing her eyes, and yawning at you.

"Damn you took a long time, did they get our order wrong? You had better not eat without me."

You chuckled and pushed the box to the center of the table, taking a breath as you tried to process what had just happened.

“Oh, I've got something to tell you while you eat. You have no idea who I just ran into. Come closer, it's going to be a good one.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

➳ Navigate to the Maze

#Seventeen #svt #seventeen fics #seventeen series #seventeen joshua #joshua hong #svt joshua #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen angst #seventeen crack #seventeen au #seventeen reactions #seventeen writers #seventeen x female reader #kpop #seventeen masterlist #babytaes works

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tigersorange · 2 years ago

Note

8, 10, and 24 for the writing ask game :)

8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

As much as I enjoy writing dialogue I think that I would choose action because that’s what moves a story forward and you can put the most nuance in it. I think I would get stuck if I had to write a story only through dialogue. Although if we’re talking about it in a looser sense like letters, diaries and digital correspondence counting as dialogue that could be very fun.

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

I suppose I have multiple answers to this question because it means multiple things to me. “Haunt” in the way of every waking moment I’m consumed by ideas and things that could happen in the thing I’m writing? Absolutely I’m haunted by my own writing in that sense.

But in the sense of a piece of writing haunting me by sticking with me? There are many things, song lyrics, poems, stories, lines from movies and tv, you name it I think about it. I think one that’s on my mind right now is the lyrics to “I bet on losing dogs” by Mitski.

My baby, my baby

You're my baby, say it to me

Baby, my baby

Tell your baby that I'm your baby

I bet on losing dogs

I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place

By the ring

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down

I'll be there on their side

I'm losing by their side

Will you let me, baby, lose

On losing dogs

I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place

By the ring

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down

I wanna feel it

I bet on losing dogs

I always want you when I'm finally fine

How you'd be over me looking in my eyes when I cum

Someone to watch me die

I bet on losing dogs

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

I would call my approach to storytelling the ‘Medicated ADHD Approach’ aka its organized but also very chaotic and I tend to get new ideas that overwrite my original plans. I keep an outline alongside the main work and also use notes app a lot to write down ideas that come to me on the fly. My outlines are bulleted, sorted into acts/arcs, and usually not fully linear. I choose certain things to reorder, add or omit as I see fit as I’m writing but I do write a full outline before I start the actual draft. If I didn’t the story would never end because I love tangents. I enjoy writing outlines but I like brainstorming, drawing things out and actually writing the story much more.

I also write snippets of things that don’t belong to a specific idea in my notes app so I can potentially repurpose them later.

Here’s a little example its bbkaz haha:

Snake’s eye is shining with excitement, glee, as if Kaz is nothing more than a toy for him to play with, to press buttons on until he breaks. To toss aside once he’s sick of him. As much as it hurts to know that, Kaz can’t help but appease him, even though his own feelings for Snake burn hot inside, eating through his insides until there’s nothing left.

The Boss is not someone who loves, so to be his prized and trusted possession is the next best thing.

#ask game #luckyno7 #my writing

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wincore · 4 years ago

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sweet tooth | dong sicheng

pairing: vampire!sicheng x reader

words: 2.8k

summary: out of all the inconveniences a vampire boyfriend could pose, there’s about two tonight: a) him losing it at the next person who compliments his fangs, or b) you losing it at sicheng’s 100% blood alcohol content

genre: vampire!au, boyfriend!au, college!au, (tooth-rotting) fluff, comfort, humour

warning(s): mentions of blood, alcohol consumption, college halloween parties

song rec(s): candy - baekhyun // wish you were sober - conan gray

a/n: let’s pretend it’s halloween pls <3 also im sorry it’s so short and more drabble-ish but i wanted to write something gentle and comforting so!!! yeah ^^ also there is no plot. eep.

It’s two in the morning.

Or rather, it feels like two in the morning.

A frat party is a horrible substitute for an actual Halloween party. The alcohol content is through the roof and the number of pairs making out is enough to make you feel queasy. You never knew horror themes had the innate ability to make people so flagrantly horny—you’re half glad you’re not, god forbid, single. Most of your friends were too busy, however, to organize the close-knit party you usually have each year—so here you are, with an invitation from a friend of a friend (of a friend). Your boyfriend might be the only one feeling more out of place than you are.

You glance at Sicheng from the pool table, the cup frozen against his lips while his eyes scan the room from corner to corner. You don’t do crowds and neither does he; though he does have the unwitting ability to charm any crowd he’s in. You’re not quite sure if he’s still unaware of that.

You watch as a girl you can easily recognize from your campus approach him, all smiles and giggles. She says something and you scoff, almost completely certain about what it is she said.

Sicheng might be unaware of it—but you are, and painfully so.

She looks at him starry-eyed and the scent of rum wafting around her. A part of her jacket is off her shoulder, a faint blush covering her cheeks that you can spot even under the dim lights. She’s definitely flirting—you know that because rumours go around faster than assignments in this university. Choi Joohee has a very public, very open crush on your boyfriend.

It’s not like it bothers you. Not at all.

Just a little bit.

Jealousy has never been your thing and you’re half certain what you’re feeling isn’t even jealousy—just a taste of alcohol and the proximity of a Halloween house party.

Speaking of which, the only thing harrowing about this place is the amount of alcohol everyone seems to be consuming—including your boyfriend. Ten dragged Yukhei home a while ago and a part of you is still not confident enough to handle a boyfriend with very pointy fangs and midnight cravings for blood (or juice, as Ten disgustingly phrases it).

Sicheng nods along to something Joohee asks, an eyebrow raised quizzically on her and you assume he’s been zoning out the whole time. The urge to laugh surfaces and you swallow it whole. He’s so cute, even in this state. The lights dance across his face; candy blue, rich purple, saccharine red. The colours don’t help him stand any straighter, or slur his words any less.

You think it’s time to help your boyfriend out. However, the moment you walk through the swarms over to them, Joohee’s face sours. Of course, as the only competition (is it a competition if you’ve already won?) to the object of her affections, you don’t rank too high in her books. It made you a little upset at first, but you got used to it. (“She’ll get over it,” Sicheng had reassured several times. “Don’t worry.”)

People grow, and with that thought, you let it be.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Joohee tells Sicheng and walks away, like he’s supposed to follow her.

You roll your eyes and turn to Sicheng, who’s had a very delayed response to Joohee’s departure. His head is tilted to the side, eyes half-lidded and you’re almost afraid he’s going to drop to the floor right there and then. This is bad. The thing about vampires is that they absolutely should not, under any circumstance, have alcohol. Calling your boyfriend a lightweight is beyond an understatement.

“Sicheng,” you call softly.

He turns to you, taking a moment to process, before pulling his lips into a wide smile. His fangs poke out even when he presses his lips back together, a contemplatory look over him.

“I thought you left me here.” He forces a sardonic smile.

Drunk off his ass and Sicheng still manages to be annoyingly sarcastic.

You open your mouth and close it again. It’s not like you can chide him without letting your fondness show. The Adonis features that grace his face don’t help. Flushed all the way to the neck, a drunk Dong Sicheng is very rare. The last time this happened must have been at least two years ago (and though you weren’t there then, the way Ten and Kun freeze up at the slightest mention, you decided to not ask).

“Why did you drink?” you ask, huffing. “You can’t even smell alcohol.”

There’s a short pause.

“Because you were ignoring me,” he replies, leaning in.

Heat washes into your cheeks. You forgot how unrestrained he gets with alcohol in his system.

Sicheng seems to have enough consciousness left in him to feel somewhat embarrassed, standing up straight and fiddling with his thumbs. You slip your hand into his without delay and pull, trying your best to navigate through the crowd. Is an ordinary Halloween party too much to ask for? Just when you can finally spot the front door, Sicheng stops abruptly, making you stumble backwards into his chest. He smells like the old deodorant he’s been using for a year underneath the smell of beer and… is that blood?

“Where are we going?” he asks sharply.

“Home, Sicheng,” you whine. “You can stay in my bed.”

He stays rooted in place stubbornly, and you wonder what it is now. This is the time you have to wonder if you’re dating a (potentially) immortal creature or a recently birthed baby.

“We should enjoy more. You’ve hardly smiled the past few weeks,” he mutters.

Your heartbeat spikes for a moment, when he brushes the hair from your face. All this time and he hasn’t changed the words he offers to you in private, the care on his lips and fingertips. A room full of people who aren’t listening is the best place to talk.

The first time you saw Sicheng was in the middle of the night, in the dark hallway of your shared apartment building, blood staining his jaw from a bag he’d acquired from med student Wong Kunhang. (You’re very sure that’s illegal.)

Needless to say, you’d fainted immediately after. When you came to, you were met with a man with pretty eyes and fangs poking out his mouth and in a bed that wasn’t yours. There was no blood this time but you screamed anyway, cut off by the man’s hand over your mouth.

“Calm down,” he said, voice surprisingly deep. “It’s not like I’m going to kill you.”

“You were planning to kill me?” you asked, panicking.

“I just said I wouldn’t,” he replied quietly, eyes wide and almost as stressed as you are.

Sicheng heaves a sigh, massaging his forehead. You shake yourself off the memories, tugging at his shirt so you can sit somewhere at least. The alcohol must have numbed his ears too. The low R&B tunes make no sense on Halloween night; even less when they’re played a few bars above the acceptable volume. If you’re not out of here soon, you might lose your hearing altogether.

The couch is slightly less stinky than you would have expected. (You grimace as you think to the last time you were at a frat party and in particular, the vomit.) Beside you, Sicheng mumbles about something you’re not quite sure of, a quiet rant with one-track emotions. It makes you giggle and for a moment, you forget the predicament of being stuck with a drunk vampire boyfriend who has just finished teething.

“Hey, guys.”

You look up to see Jihoon, the very friend of a friend (of a friend) who had invited you to this mess. It’s not like you harbour ill feelings towards him; but the guy has approximately zero ability to read the room. It’s mostly funny.

Sicheng makes a vague gesture that you assume means ‘hello’, sitting up straight so he doesn't look noticeably tipsy. You make light conversation with Jihoon, Sicheng’s arm around your waist tightening reflexively. You don’t plan on party-hopping, no matter how much Jihoon urges the two of you—seriously, does he not see the look on Sicheng’s face? He looks more zombie than vampire.

“You know, you don’t actually have to wear costumes for this, right? We didn’t set a theme,” Jihoon remarks, tilting his head to face your boyfriend. “The fangs are really cool, though. Holy shit. Dude, they look so real.”

Sicheng’s lips twitch but he forces them into a smile, trying to move as far away from Jihoon as possible. The fangs are usually not out and about in the open, slightly retracted during the day. The night, however, keeps him on edge. Sicheng hates the spotlight that only ever shows up for the wrong reasons, and he’d much rather graduate without having to deal with horny vampire-lovers. (It’s not that sexy; and you know from experience.)

The way Sicheng looks makes you wonder how many people have pointed out the fangs tonight. You purse your lips to keep yourself from laughing.

“Thanks,” he responds, voice his usual deep baritone.

Jihoon leaves after being unable to draw any more conversation out of Sicheng, some peace gracing you despite everything.

If you ever write a book on how to deal with vampire boyfriends, the first rule would be to never kiss him at night. The fangs are not as withdrawn then and they hurt. (The second is, of course, to never let them get a whiff of alcohol.)

When Sicheng first kissed you, it was midnight and you were at the convenience store to buy a few lunchboxes and instant coffee mix. You’d yelped when his fang had pricked your lower lip, alarming the worker and around fifteen minutes of (dishonest) explanation later, the two of you had left without buying what you came for.

After fretting for a while, Sicheng had kissed you once more with careful consideration—till the damn fangs got in the way again. It was sweet for a moment—like candy—though, the metallic taste of blood had invaded it afterwards. No matter how awkward or painful it was, your elation outweighed the rest.

Kisses weren’t the only thing interrupted by fangs.

The turtlenecks and scarves certainly raised an eyebrow in your circle of friends. There was concern at first, then teasing and then a whole lot of inside jokes which made you want to smack each and every one of them. (“They’re hickeys, I swear, not vampire bites,” you had informed Ten. “Ew. I did not need to know that.” “Shut up.”)

Even so, Sicheng is warm—always has been, and not on the skin.

You feel pressure on your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck and you adjust yourself so it’s more comfortable.

“Tired?” you ask.

“Not at all.”

You shake your head at his lie. Gently pushing his head away, you get up from your seat and pull him up with all of your strength. Linking your arm through his, you smile at him when he raises an eyebrow. It’s time to get home, you’ve decided and these are times when one vote is enough.

When you reach the front door, stumbling out with your suddenly talkative boyfriend, the autumn breeze hits you. Under the moonlight, the rosy hue over his cheeks is clearer and even more so when he smiles.

“It’s like our first date,” he says.

You smile back at him.

“You were so embarrassing,” he adds.

Your smile drops and you smack his arm, eliciting a soft complaint from him.

Your first date was the only normal thing in this relationship—a date at the amusement park on Halloween, a bunch of kids mistaking your now boyfriend for Count Dracula and caramel popcorn smeared over your fingers.

Sicheng sighs, lowering his head to rest his forehead against your shoulder. The two of you stay like that for a moment or two, the party music finally fading and Sicheng’s warmth seeping into you. You fix the lapels of his jacket absentmindedly, fingers tracing over the material. His hands rest lightly against your back yet still secure.

A kitten lick at your neck jolts you back to reality. You gently push him by the shoulders, finding his fangs bared already. He stays unmoving for a few seconds before closing his mouth and going back to leaning against you, breath falling in waves against your neck.

“I’m not your juicebox, Sicheng,” you snap, frown deepening.

“But you have so much blood,” he mumbles, his forehead hot against your shoulder.

“Sicheng.”

He sobers up a little, pulling back with a stream of pouting apologies. You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling. Despite everything, your boyfriend is such a child sometimes. There’s a short pause.

“But wait, don’t go biting someone else’s neck,” you quickly add, flustered.

Sicheng suppresses a smile.

“So I can have a little—”

“No.”

Sicheng pouts but agrees enough to follow you, the two of you moving soundlessly over the sidewalk. Being alone with him has always been easing; you don’t need a crowd for comfort.

With fingers interlaced, you walk alone with him as the orange street lights cast shadows on the buildings lined up. A few more blocks and you’ll reach your apartment, get to push Sicheng into bed and pray he doesn’t throw up at your front door—and yet still, you walk as slow as you can as if the autumn wind will be gone as quick as it arrived.

The number of people shrink the further you get from the party, and you heave a sigh of relief, glad to be away from, what you and your friends call, the rich neighbourhood. The familiar path to your apartment, no matter the pricing, has much better air to breathe in. It’s past midnight and yet, you can see the city lights in the distance, the ones that never sleep—for the living or the dead.

Something runs into your legs and you jump onto Sicheng, who in turn flinches away with a strangled yelp.

You look down to see a giant golden retriever in a white blanket which you assume is meant to be a ghost outfit. It wags its tail, sniffing around your boyfriend’s legs, making him giggle as he crouches down to pet the creature.

“I’m so sorry!”

You look up to find a young girl holding a pumpkin almost as large as her head, an apologetic look over her head. Some part of you is happy to see a costume, considering you were robbed of yours. (Sometimes you dream of matching costumes but again, the damn fangs.)

“Piri loves people, I’m so sorry if he bothered—oh hey dude, cool fangs.”

Sicheng offers the fakest smile ever, accompanied with a thumbs up gesture. You sigh, apologizing to the girl before parting ways.

“That’s the eighth time tonight,” Sicheng says, scowling almost. “I counted.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand. Calm, relaxed Dong Sicheng tends to lose it at repetitive comments with only three sips of beer.

When you reach the apartment building, clouds cover the moon and you draw your jacket closer to yourself. You think for a moment about the inevitability of time and whether you’re even allowed to fall in love this way. You push the thoughts aside almost inevitably. When the time comes, you will have a decision to make—and after everything, it is love which turns people.

For now, you can enjoy this Halloween night with your (literally) one-of-a-kind boyfriend.

You fumble around with the keys, Sicheng looking at you with sleepy eyes as he leans against the wall. He must be worn out from the alcohol by now.

“Hey,” he calls, the words more muffled than usual.

You raise an eyebrow, tugging him inside all the while maintaining your balance.

“You know my favourite blood type?” he continues.

You shake your head. “If you’re thinking of feeding, I’ll get some blood bags from Kunhang.”

Sicheng pouts. “You ruined the line.”

“Huh?”

“Yours. Yours is my favourite blood type.”

Despite the terrible execution of his so-called pick-up line, you find yourself shaking with laughter. You’re not sure if it’s the late night or the October air—the two of you share the silliest of laughter at the doorway to your apartment.

Within the moment itself, Sicheng leans in to kiss you and your hands move to run through his hair out of habit. The taste of beer and the prick of his fangs makes you pull away. You look at each other for a moment before you give in anyway and kiss him against the doorframe.

October ends with memories—your first date, Sicheng’s cooking disaster, and now this. It’s blissful for the few moments the two of you let it be. That is, until Sicheng opens his mouth.

“Oh, by the way, can you apologize to Ten for me? I think I bit him thinking it was you.”

“Sicheng, what the fuck?”

October ends with proximity, sweet as candy and warm as toast—stumbling into bed with all that and more.

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r3almellow · 4 years ago

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No One Else But You (Victor x S/o)

Our Grumpy CEO’s birthday is around the corner so I wanted to type this up to celebrate and also respond to two requests at the same time! Killing three birds with one stone as they say! Thank you for sending me requests!

As always I apologize for any mistakes!

Please enjoy!

Warning: No warning!

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Victor couldn’t understand it. What was this painful feeling in his chest? Was this signs of a heart attack ready to take him? It couldn’t be. He considered himself to be a very healthy person. He exercised every morning and while he did indulge in unhealthy eating from time to time, most of the foods he chose to consume were nothing but the best. So, why? Why did he feel anxiousness bubble up inside of him?

Maybe it had something to with the fact that you’ve had lunch with his assistant three times this week.

Victor wasn’t sure why the idea of you having lunch with someone else bothered him so much. It wasn’t like you couldn’t interact with his employees and what Goldman decided to do during his lunchbreaks was none of Victor’s concern unless it impacted the company.

But if Victor wanted to get technical, you impacted the company greatly since he was funding your company, so in a way he had every right to feel a particular way about this new friendship, right?

Its definitely not because Victor was jealous. That would be absurd. Victor had no reason to feel threatened when at the end of the day you were dating him. He was happy with you and knew you felt the same way, so how in the world did Goldman fit into this?

Why did it annoy him to see you at his desk laughing and smiling with him before the two of you walked off into the elevator together. It just didn’t make any sense.

“Victor, you’re going to cut yourself if you keep spacing out like that.” He heard your voice break through his thoughts.

Victor blinked blankly for a few seconds then realized he was in his kitchen; a knife in his hand, cutting board and various vegetables placed in front of him.

Oh, that’s right. He was in the middle of preparing dinner with you to celebrate the end of a hectic work week. He must have really been out of it because the onions that he intended to cut into cubes were now minced.

He felt your hand lightly rub his arm as you leaned against him. It felt somewhat comforting knowing you worried over him even though his current state of mind had everything to do with you.

“You seem distracted. Something wrong?” You asked.

Victor was never to the type to shy away from his problems. Facing his problems with a surefire strategy was how he handled things, but he didn’t have a plan for this. He wasn’t expecting to feel like you were being a little too friendly with his assistant.

Maybe if he was subtle about it he could voice his concerns.

“You seem to be enjoying my assistant’s company.” Maybe that was a little too direct.

Victor felt your eyes on him, but for some reason he couldn’t look at you, the vegetables in front of him were looking very interesting. Who knew tomatoes could be so red?

“Mr. Li, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were jealous.” By the way your voice sounded, so amused and lighthearted, it was clear you were loving this a little too much.

Victor could see you smiling out of his peripheral vision and suddenly his cheeks felt very warm. He frowned and narrowed his eyes as he continued cutting.

“No, I’m just curious about the sudden interest.” Victor heard you giggle and his frown deepened.

Seeing the look on his face you sighed softly and carefully wedged yourself in between him and the counter to stop him from cutting further. You cupped his face with your hands, forcing him to look at you.

Did he look irritated? Because that was the look he was going for. It was kind of difficult with you smiling up at him so softly but he was sure he didn’t look too happy in that moment..

You puckered your lips hoping Victor would get the hint of what you wanted and he did. He could never resist kissing you, no matter how annoyed he was. He leaned down meeting your lips halfway.

Your kisses did have a way of making him feel better, but they weren’t going to fix the anxiousness in his heart this time.

Victor moved to pull away but you held his face just inches away from yours. Your expression turned serious yet sincere, a look Victor came to admire whenever you were filled with determination.

“I love your grumpy butt so much! So don’t ever think I’ll find happiness with anyone else. You’re stuck with me, mister.” Victor couldn’t help but crack a small smile at that. The thought of having you in his life for as long as he lived was something he could definitely get used to. Maybe in the near future he could solidify that by asking for your hand.

He chuckled. “That makes me lucky, doesn’t it?”

You laughed softly.

“Of course! You’re the luckiest man in the world and I’m just as lucky that I get to share my life with you.” You sounded so confident. Your tone mimicked how you usually sounded when you were sure of something working out. The optimism he adored so much.

You closed the distance between you again by pressing your plush lips firmly against his once more.

What was intended to be a soft and sweet kiss turned searing and passionate. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his wrapped around your waist. Victor’s heart felt full. The doubt and anxiety that clouded his mind now a forgotten memory.

When you finally pulled away you spoke again.

“To ease your mind, I’ve been working with Goldman to free up a certain someone’s schedule for my super special birthday plans?”

Birthday? After being together for as long as you two have, he would never forget something as important as your birthday.

“Your birthday isn’t until later this year.” You snickered and gave him another kiss before wiggling out of his hold.

“Not my birthday!” You say in a sing-song voice as you walked out of the kitchen. Victor just stood there in confusion not sure what to make of your words. If it wasn’t your birthday then whose birthday could it possib-

Oh.

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Please check out my MLQC HC masterpost!

#mr love queens choice #mr love #mr love victor #mlqc

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tinyyoungblood · 4 years ago

Text

midnight in prague | tom holland

summary: you play MJ in far from home and when filming gets too stressful, you and tom sneak off from set to explore the city of prague at night while also talking about the idea of running away together

pairing: tom holland x actress!reader

word count: 1.9 k

warnings: a bit angsty but mainly fluff, one (1) violent metaphor, language

a/n: i highly recommend listening to the song, it’s absolutely beautiful, sets the mood and inspired this story. used some of the lyrics as dialogue. enjoy!

song/inspo: Canada (ft. Alessia Cara) by Lauv

↳ masterlist

* * *

“That’s a wrap, guys!” The crew cheered weakly, lacking the usual enthusiasm. Not moving from your spot, you meekly pumped your fist in the air in mute joy. To say you were exhausted wasn’t just an understatement, it was a big truck that rammed and then dragged you through the empty streets of Prague. You’ve been up since 9 am and the enormous clock, that had surely become the focal point for everybody, almost signaled three hours after midnight.

Your scene partner was even more drained than you. Tom was barely twitching a limb—only a hollow shell, containing the last remains of his wiped-out energy.

With his head rested on yours, you believed he was dead asleep and lightly poked his side to wake him up. But he only reached out and held your hand in a loose grip, arms dangling between your bodies. “I’m awake,” he murmured, and you were sure he was talking in his sleep.

“Tommy, wake up,” you said gently and wrapped your arms around his torso, letting him engulf you in a warm hug but he didn't budge, “You’re compressing my brain, Tom.”

Slowly, he lifted his head, eyes fluttering open to scan your face but only a second later did he realize that insomnia had caused him to believe your teasing for once. You couldn’t help but pout at the prominent exhaustion on his face. Footsteps on cobblestone and the movement of heavy filming gadgets made up your surroundings but you focused solely on Tom and the guilty look on his face. No words were needed for you to know that he was still sorry for something that he had no control over.

It wasn’t his fault that the weather conditions pushed the night shootings back and it certainly wasn’t his fault that cars were constantly driving over the bridge that you were filming at, forcing you to quickly jump to the side, only to shuffle right back to restart the scene.

But this was Prague and he was Tom. Much like his character, he had thoroughly planned a romantic trip for both of you and after weeks of gushing about it, he was sure he could make it work but something would always come up and push his plans into hopelessness.

At this point, he had accepted his fate but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t sad every time he looked at you and mad every time somebody said “action”. He loved his job and was forever grateful but for fuck’s sake, was it too much to ask for to spend some alone time with his girlfriend?

Just when he was about to open his mouth to apologize to you, you locked his lips with yours and he melted into the kiss, tense shoulders dropping. Releasing his lips with a soft plop, he sighed with a small smile, but his eyes still held sadness. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that the others were already walking toward the van to drive back to the hotel to fall into a restless sleep, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let Tom go to bed like this.

Your mind flicked to back home where you had naively envisioned your trip to Europe to be completely different—free and without a care in the world. You knew you were here for work, but you didn’t expect to have this many obligations that added to the constant pressure of having to deliver the perfect scenes. The world was counting on you to not fuck this up.

You sighed and looked down at the river. The water reflected the vibrant yellow streetlights and brought you a sense of much-needed peace and tranquillity. Tom watched you curiously as your eyes marveled at the scenery.

Your head whipped back to him and now you were beaming at him, a glimpse of mischief dancing in your eyes. “Let’s get out of here.” Tom blankly stared at you and blinked to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “What?”

“I’m saying,” you dragged out and let go of his torso to swing his arms excitedly from side to side, he squeezed your hand, “this is our last night in Prague! We’ve been looking forward to this for the longest time, do you really want to miss it? Come on, we can sleep on the plane tomorrow. Let’s be carefree for once.” Your soul was fueled with sparkling joy and you forgot about your exhaustion. “Let’s be free.”

Tom took a second to contemplate your words before a wide grin broke out on his face and he nodded eagerly, surrendering to bliss. “God, I’m obsessed with your brain sometimes.”

With your hand still in his, you pulled him with you, excitement shimmering. Crossing the Charles Bridge, the two of you slipped away and entered the night you had dreamed of.

Golden lanterns on the side of the houses marked hidden but absolutely breathtaking alleys and for the first time on this trip, it was quiet and serene. Your eyes couldn’t stop darting everywhere, taking it all in with the deepest admiration. It was like you were falling in love with the whole world.

You had a bounce to your step and Tom couldn’t contain his bubbly feelings at the sight of you. He didn’t really understand what switch of yours was suddenly flicked for your spirits to fly this high, but he didn’t need to. He missed spending time with you. Back in the States, both of your schedules were packed and barely allowed a fleeting glimpse but now, the girl of his dreams was buzzing with happiness while the streetlights highlighted her glowing face and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t treasure every moment.

The darkness made the town appear like a secret fairytale village with its colorful houses and narrow passages. Your soft chatter lingered in the warm summer air and every time a giggle left your lips Tom’s heart filled with more love for you, warming him from within. With his adoring gaze, he spun you around. Your dress flying up and you stretched your arms upward, enjoying the carefreeness with a broad smile. You felt like you were floating, feet barely touching the ground as the both of you were dancing to no music.

Drunk with happiness, both of you laughed as Tom pressed your back against a wall. With his hands caressing your hips and your foreheads pressed against each other, your heart throbbed with profound joy, something you haven’t felt in a while.

Adrenaline and happiness consumed you, so much of it that you nearly forgot to breathe but you didn’t need to as Tom’s lips were already on yours. You pushed off the wall, sealing the tiny space between you and he deepened the kiss. Your heart almost broke with joy. Pulling apart, it left you breathless again and you were certain nothing could ever wipe off the stupid grin on your faces.

Arms swinging, the two of you continued your fairytale walk and ended up at the Charles bridge again where you had started off the night. Still high on emotions, Tom pulled you with him as he swung his legs over the rim of the bridge and gestured for you to follow. You didn’t hesitate and sat next to him, legs dangling over the river. You rested your head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around your small frame as you overlooked the sight in front of you.

Your voice was delicate as you spoke, cautioning into the silence, “I really needed this. It's almost like I've been stuck at home forever.” Tom was playing with strands of your hair and you knew he was deep in thoughts.

Again, you watched the dancing streetlights reflection on the water surface but this time it didn’t bring you peace. You had your night and that was all you wanted. So why did you feel a pinch of sadness at the simple thought of heading to the hotel, settling into your bed and calling it a night. You didn’t want this night to end and you knew Tom also dreaded having to end this feeling.

So the question he asked next wasn’t a surprise to you in the slightest—it resonated with you.

“What if we move to Canada?”

He sounded hopeful. Musing about taking on the world in a different way than you both already did but he knew you two were in no position to be bold and just not give a damn. It was neither in his nor your power to be selfish. A sudden breeze left goosebumps on your exposed skin, but he dreamingly gazed at you with vulnerable eyes and you let yourself dream with him.

“We could bring Tessa,” you voiced, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “And your paintbrush and some candy,” Tom added, and awe transformed your face, eyes lighting up.

“I guess we’re lucky that we don’t need much outside of us, do we?” You chuckled softly and he shook his head with a sad smile on his face. He took your hand in his and started to play with your fingers, eyes looking heavenward. For the first time tonight, you noticed the endless stars sparkling from above.

“You know, when we film those movies...” He licked his lips and your gaze darted to his hesitant face. You weren’t sure if tears were brimming his eyes or if they reflected the deep water but they were glistening and you squeezed his hand to remind him that you were there. “...When they talk about those people in the movies who up and leave, I always think about how that could be us.”

He looked down at you, hands tightening around yours and now you were sure those were tears shimmering in his eyes. “That could be you and me.”

You didn’t answer and he didn’t need you to.

Both of you knew this wasn’t the heat of the moment talking. ‘Let’s get away from here and do our own thing’ wasn’t an option for any of you. Your thing was acting, you loved it from the bottom of your heart, and you wouldn’t be completed without that passion in your life and Tom—Tom was Spider-Man. Arguably one of the most recognizable cinematic characters in the world. Besides the fact that he couldn’t just quit, he didn’t want to either.

This was the life that you both chose. Unforgettable memories, unconditional support and overwhelming opportunities. There were also hours of press tours, draining interviews and nerve-wracking red carpets.

Your heart rate picked up at the single thought of it all but if tonight had taught you anything, it had taught you something deeply beautiful. Amid the chaos and pressure, amid the glamour and blessings, all you needed in the end was Tom by your side. He was the reason why you soared your highest heights and he was your support system when you plunged to the deepest depths. Gratitude flowed through you.

Leaning forward, you pressed a soft kiss on his cheek, letting it linger for a moment before you nuzzled your head back into the crook of his neck—brown eyes never leaving you. He returned the gesture by leaving a gentle kiss on top of your head, before resting his own on yours, pressing you closer into his body with a content sigh.

We are lucky that we don't need much outside of us.

* * *

wrote this at 5 am so it might be extra cheesy but i’m still too sleep-deprived to tell lol. i appreciate the hell out of feedback so feel free to leave me some and if you don’t, that’s okay too. thank u for reading, buh-bye! x

masterlist

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #actress!reader #tom holland x actress #tom holland x yn #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland #tom holland x reader fluff

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loverboystyles · 5 years ago

Text

Late Night Boredom

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: Again, such a cliché, but it’s cute. so 🤷🏾‍♀️ gif is not mine. I might do a part two?? isk let me know what you guys think.

Summary: Y/N is so, very bored, so she decides to go out on her balcony. Little did she know that a certain friendly neighborhood superhero catches her eye.

Warning: some suggestive content, but other than that, fluffy fluff

Word Count: 2.6k

It was a late Saturday night, almost midnight and you were sure that your parents had fallen asleep. You let out something between a sigh and a groan, and rolled to the other side of your bed, phone in your hand, texting one of your friends and complaining about how utterly bored you are. They suggested that you get some fresh air, but you pushed it aside, revolted at the idea of getting up from your comfy bed.

You twisted over, now facing the TV in your room, turned it on and surfed the channels for a good ten minutes. Of course there was nothing that interested you playing, so you turned to Netflix. You had already binge-watched most of the shows, so you searched for another few moments. You let out a whine, you didn't want to watch something new or old, it was just one of those times where you were stuck in a black hole of disinterest.

Finally deciding to take your friend’s advice, you lazily throw the blanket off your body, sit up, and stretch. Then, you made your way over to your balcony doors, and pulled them open, pretending to be dramatic, like a Disney princess. Smiling at yourself, you step outside, letting the cool, New York air surround you. Making sure you closed the door behind you, you put your elbows on the chilly railing that use your hands to prop your head up.

Your eyes sweep the streets, looking for something, anything really, to help you escape your hole of boredom that you’ve somehow fallen into. Nothing gained your interest, there was only a couple, walking home from their date, you assumed, since they were holding hands and the girl was leaning on his shoulder, laughing at something he said. You decided to head back inside, since there was nothing to watch. But as you were about to step inside, you heard a scream.

Eyes widening, you did another 180°, you practically ran to the railing, and leaned over to see what the commotion was about. The woman was holding her arm out, pointing her index finger to a man that was running away, clutching a black, leather purse in his hands.

“He stole my purse!” the woman cried, a surprised expression on her face. You averted your gaze back to the thief that was getting away.

Within seconds (probably milliseconds, you thought), a certain superhero, clad in red and blue, with white eyes, outlined in black, jumped down in front of the criminal. Instantly recognizing who it was, thanks to all those youtube videos you watched and that one encounter you had with him, you relaxed.

“The time for snatching purses was an hour ago, you’re late!” he greeted the thief, making you shake your head and grin. Spider-Man extended his arm, shooting strings of web at the man, and pulled his hand back, catching the purse. He tossed the purse to its rightful owner, who had moved close to the criminal, who hadn’t noticed. The man attacked the hero, throwing a punch meant for his head, but instead hit nothing as the avenger easily dodged.

“I gotta say, you have to get a lot better at throwing punches.” he commented as the man started fighting him. He threw a few punches and kicks, which again, Spidey easily avoided. While fending him off, the superhero notice you looking.

He winked.

You were taken aback from the gesture, you could feel yourself reddening, and for some reason, your heart fluttered. You gave him a small smile in return, and headed inside. You left your balcony open just a tad bit, to let some cool air in. You decided to read a book, so you turned on your lamp and got your favourite book. Minutes had passed and all your attention was consumed by your book, until you heard a thud. Your eyes instantly shot towards your balcony, where you saw the hero from earlier, in his signature superhero pose.

As you were marking your page and setting your book down, a quizzical expression took over your features. You strolled to the doors and pushed them open, eyeing him curiously. The eyes on his mask slightly widened, but went back to normal again at once.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing up so late?” he asked with a New York accent. Extending his arm, he held out his hand. Deciding to trust him, you put your hand in his. He then bowed down and lifted his mask up to beneath his nose, and kisses it, making you smile at his formality.

“Is that what your voice sounds like?” you asked.

“What do you mean?” he inquired, keeping up with the accent.

“I mean, is that really what your voice sounds like?” you said with a quiet laugh, not wanting to wake up your parents. You moved away from the doorway, inviting the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man into your room. “Sounds different from the last time we met. Not to mention all those you tube videos.”

A grin graced his face, at least, the part you could see. It was familiar, but you couldn’t place your finger on it. Not to mention that it was remarkably charming. “Oh, yeah, no.” he stuttered, his skin flushed pink. Peter mentally cursed at himself for using the accent, but made you laugh and that’s what mattered to him. You gave him a small smile as he walked into your room.

The truth is, that Peter is head over heels for you. The boy didn’t just like like you, he was madly in love with you. Everything about you captivated him, like your voice, your laugh, your everything. The smile you gave him reminded him of the first time you met Spider-Man

‘God, why are things so slow today?’ Peter thought as he swung across the city he calls home. He landed on a rooftop and looked around, a certain someone caught his eye, walking home on the sidewalk. His advanced hearing allowed him to listen to the song you were quietly singing, which just happen to be one of his favourites. It made his heart soar.

“Darling, you look perfect, tonight.” he quietly sang under his breath, he loved it because it reminded him of you, he would think of you whenever it was on the radio.

You turned right, into a dark ally way. Not because you were about to do anything creepy, but because it was one the shortcuts you liked to use to get home quicker, and avoid crossing the streets.

Peter decided to head home for the night, since there clearly wasn’t anything illegal going on. So he turned around and extended his arm, about to shoot out a web, when-

He heard you let out a loud cry and groan.

“Let go of me! You.. you filthy animal!” you cried. A thug had pushed you against the wall, knife to your throat, ready to slit it at any second. Fear filled your guts when you saw how dangerously close the weapon was to you.

Spidey immediately ran to the edge of the building

“Aw, is the little princess scared?” he spat, looking at your body up and down with a devilish smirk on his face. “We can have some fun, right here, right now, but if you struggle, you can say goodbye to everything you love. Sound good?”

You gasped, eyes wide, never breaking eye contact with the man, but you saw the hero with your peripheral vision. You relaxed a tiny bit, but still scared and mostly tense. “Mhmm,” you nodded, your voice was an octave higher than usual.

“Excellent, now be a good girl and take off your clothes.” he ordered, gesturing the knife up and down.

But of course, instead of doing as you were told, you froze as Spidey swooped in to save the day.

“Hey! Don’t you know that its kinda illegal to rape? Especially minors!” Peter kicked the thug, sending him flying and making his back hit the wall. You quickly grabbed your phone and dialed 911, telling the operator that you needed police, followed by your location.

After the police arrived and had taken care of the hooligan, Spider-Man offered to swing you home.

“No, no it’s alright,” you politely declined his offer, waving your hands in front of yourself. “I’ll walk home, it’s not too far from here.”

“I’ll walk with you then, ya know, in case more bad guys they to hurt you.” Peter said innocently. You giggled and started walking in the direction of your home. Originally, you had thought that the way home would be awkward, but it really wasn’t, there was just a comfortable silence. Until the infamous web-slinger broke it,

“You know, I think it should be illegal.” he said wisely. nodding once or twice to himself.

“Sorry, what?” you smiled, fiddling with your phone. “What should be illegal?”

“It should be illegal for someone as pretty as you to be walking all alone in the middle of the night.” he elaborated and even though you couldn’t see it, there a dopey smile playing on his lips

You laughed, “I bet you say that to tons of other girls.” you said, looking down and twirling a strand of hair on your finger.

“No, you’re the first,” he reassured you. “I don’t plan on using it one anyone else.”

You let out a soft gasp of surprise. Was Spider-Man... hitting on you? You pushed the thought aside, shaking your head to yourself.

“Well, this is my stop.” you said, about to open the front doors to your apartment building. “I guess I’ll see ya around, web-head.” you said.

“Web-head? Is that nickname?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “My nickname, though.”

“So, whatcha dong here, web-head?” you asked, curiosity lacing your voice. You were now sitting on your bed, legs crossed and you patted the space beside you, gesturing that he could come sit down if he wanted to.

You broke Peter flashback. “I wanted to see how you’re holding up.” he replied simply. Peter came and sat beside you. You were looking off into the distance, deep in thought. Maybe you were thinking about that night, Peter couldn’t tell.

You let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know.. I mean, I’m still pretty shaken up if I’m being honest.” the web-shooter gently placed his gloved hand on yours, letting you know that it was alright. You gave him another reassuring smile, and took his hand in yours, and toyed with his fingers.

“Strange material,” you commented.

“Mr. Stark made it.”

“T-Tony Stark? That’s awesome!” you exclaimed.

“There’s a story behind it, if you want to hear.” Spider-Man offered. you gleefully nodded your head and git comfy on your bed, leaning against the headboard with your knees pulled up to your chest, arms wrapped around them.

So Peter told you his story. He told you everything, from the Washington Monument (he left out the part where he was there because of decathlon), to the Vulture guy. By the time he was done his storytelling, it was almost two in the morning. But, he accidently let the homecoming part slip his tongue

“Homecoming?” you questioned. “Are you in high school?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded his head, knowing that there was no way of covering that up.

“What school do you go to?”

“I can’t tell you that, sorry.” Peter told you, a sympathetic smile on his lips. “Tell me about yourself! After all, it is a little weird that I’m in your bedroom and I have no idea who you are.”

“Oh, okay. Well, my name is Y/N L/N and I go to Midtown Tech...” You explained, telling him all about yourself. You didn’t notice, but Peter looked at you with a lovestruck expression the whole time. He loved it when you talked about the things you love, you always had this sparkle in your eye, meaning that what you were saying was true. Peter listened as if he was getting to know you for the first time.

And when you mentioned Peter Parker, the web-shooter got interested.

“Who’s that?”

“Peter? Oh, he’s my best friend,” you smiled, that glint in your eye was back, but this time, it was special. “I’ve known him since elementary school, he’s like a brother to me.” Peter internally cringed, there it was, brother. Peter’s heart almost physically ached. He knew you didn’t return the feelings but he didn’t think he would he would be that affected by it. Parker had fallen harder than he thought.

“Although,” you continued. lifting Peter’s hopes a bit, “I’ve started developing a crush on him. It’s so weird, I’ve known him basically my whole life and now that I think about it, it’s like ‘woah, I’m in love with him.’” you blabbered out loud, smiling at the thought of Peter as your boyfriend.

“In in love... with my best friend.”

Peter felt mixed emotions, and these are his thoughts exactly:

‘ohmygodohmygodohmygodshe’sinlovewithmetoo!”

and

‘what she just confessed her feelings, what do I do????? do I tell her????”

Peter decided not to tell you, thinking it would be weird. “You should tell him.” he whispered, looking at you with a happy look. “He’d be over the moon.”

“No, it’s- it’ll be weird!” you laughed, shaking your head and shrugging.

“I’m in love with my best friend too.” Spidey said, he didn’t have time to process his thoughts before they escaped his lips.

“Really, web-head?” you gave him a glance. “Must be a lucky girl.”

Peter sighed. He dreadfully wished he was living this moment as Peter Parker, and not Spider-Man, but still, he couldn’t complain. You liked him back and that’s all that matters.

“Yeah, she’s... she’s perfect.”

You two talked for a few more hours, about everything. About, school, movies, everything you could think of. Peter told you all that he could about himself, without revealing his identity. By the time you had run out of things to talk about, your alarm went off.

“BEEP BEEP BEEP!” your alarm went. You jumped and let out a small shriek, quickly leaped out of bed, turning off your alarm.

“We seriously talked all night?” you said, surprised. Time goes by when you’re having fun. “I have to get ready for school.” you said with a frown.

“So do I,” he said, getting up from you bed. “Hey, don’t be sad, you’ll see Peter.”

“Oh, yeah!” you cheered up in an instant. But another frown graced your face. “Will you come back?”

“Do you want me to?”

You nodded shyly, looking down at the floor, and fiddling with the hem of your night shirt.

Peter stepped closer to you, and lifted your chin up with one of his fingers. You looked into the eyes of his mask, your heartrate was rapidly increasing and you felt your face flush pink, almost red. You eyes darted from his eyes to his lips, then back up again.

Peter placed a soft kiss on your lips, it felt sensational. It was short and sweet and lovely, and what Peter didn’t know, that it was your first kiss, and it was his a well.

Without knowing it, both of your leaned into another, sweet kiss, like it was meant to be. Your eyes fluttered close, as your lips barely brushed against each other, you pushed your lips onto his, relaxing in his arms which he put around you. Your lips moved in perfect harmony, perfectly synchronized. Both of you pulled back at the same time, softly gasping for air.

“Something to remember me by.” He said, before rushing to your balcony and swinging off into the distance.

#peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #fluff #peter parker fluff #peter parker x y/n #spiderman #kiss #peter parker kiss #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #avengers #infinity war #spiderman homecoming #far from home #spiderman far from home

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elidelochans · 4 years ago

Note

can we get a drabble for jurdan + this is gospel by panic! pls 🥺 CONGRATS ON 1K BABES!!!! 🥳💞💞

The Fear Of Falling Apart

Warnings: mention of death, mention of alcoholism. HEA (for the most part)

Song of choice: This is gospel-Panic! At the disco

And thank you love!!! Thanks for always supporting all my crazy ideas. p.s. Sorry if this hurts babes. I promise I have smut in my docs for you.

Jude sat in the aged recliner next to the hospital bed. Unsure of how much time had passed stuck in the cold room. Only the sounds of beeping monitors and the low murmur of tacky infomercials from the tv overhead. Then of course his breaths. Deep and shallow as he slept. The same way his chest rose and fell.

She roved over his slumbered state. Thick, soft inky black hair messily brushed to the side. A hauntingly beautiful contrast to his ivory toned skin. Which looked more on the scale of ghostly pale than a glimmering white. His lips, full yet dry and chapped. Her guess was from all the content he spilled from whatever liquor he consumed. Amber eyes moved to the various tubes connecting him to the monitor. Keeping him steady. Keeping him alive.

Jude loved Cardan. Cardan loved Jude. It wasn't that simple.

Not where alcohol was involved. For Jude, no matter how much he loved her. He seemed to favor drinking a tad beyond it. Her pleas for him to get help fell upon deaf ears. His friends...only cared for his wallet and line skipping. They were no help to her cause. She's fairly certain the staff at Insmoor General Hospital know her by name. For how many times, Cardan had needed his stomach pumped. Like always she drove as fast as her car could go. Jude would wait for the nurse or doctor, letting her know of his condition. This time it was a nurse who approached her. The words the nurse spoke were more like sharp knives that she knew would leave scars. That would haunt her.

"your boyfriend's heart stopped for ten minutes."

Ten minutes. Cardan had died for ten minutes. In one single sentence, her entire world shattered. The fear of him being a broken memory stole the very breath from her lungs.

Even now when she looked at him in peaceful rest. She could picture him laying there. Motionless. No movement under the thin blankets. No beeping from the monitors letting her know he was alive. Few things frightened Jude. Losing Cardan. No matter if it was seconds or minutes. terrified in a way she could barely hold a grasp of.

Usually, when he drank heavily, she saw red. Furious at him for indulging in copious amounts. Until the rage and anger fell away. She'd lay in bed with him. Telling him, how much it worried her. He always promised to get better. He never did. A vicious circle, a dance with death. All it would take is a misstep in the routine to slip and flip. Cardan had gone and done just that. Apart of her wanted to scream at him until her lungs burned and her cheeks turned deep crimson as they did when her frustration with him hit its highest point. Tonight the thought of never hearing his criminally wicked tongue again weighed heavier than anger. For Jude, she felt as if she was on a cliff. Mere inches from falling apart.

Her hand trembled as she reached over, slipping her hand into his. It was barely warm, like death still hung around him. Readying to take him into a permanent slumber. Jude squeezed his hand, nails digging below the skin of his fingers. He didn’t grip back. If she didn’t study his face at that moment, Jude would have never caught the slight flinch from his lids. Good. If she was lucky he would hear her.

“Cardan,” Jude took a calming breath, running a thumb over his knuckles, “I-I don’t know what to do anymore,” the hot sting of tears burned against the lining of eyes, she swallowed thickly. It didn’t prevent the wetness trickling down her cheeks or the way her voice cracked when she continued, “I want to hate you right now,” gnashing her jaw together and then losing it,” I want to slap or threaten you. And then tell you…” another breath. Jude wasn’t sure if she felt a featherlight squeeze or imagined it, “That..that if you loved me Cardan. You would let me go. Because. Because,” her tone rose an octave too high, her lips trembled. Shaking the way her body was as her heart twisted in agony, “I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore. But-”

To her surprise, his hand squeezed back. Jude flicked her gaze to his eyes. The lids pulled back as he slowly blinked awake. The slow trickle of tears turned to an endless stream. Jude made to take her hand away. He held on to her. Like she was a tether to this world. To his world. A grip so tight she could feel the cool clammy sweat between their palms. He groaned trying to reach up and wipe the wetness staining her cheeks. He was still too weak and fell back on to the bed. Jude rubbed her tears away with the opposite hand. A tired grin fell on his lips.

“Jude,” Her name on his lips came out in a rasp, from sleep or what he endured she couldn't say. Cardan’s handsome features twisted like saying her name physically pained him.

Again Cardan tried to ignore the pain in his body as he attempted to rise. Jude moved to the edge of the bed thigh to thigh with him. Being this close to him. She fell off that cliff headfirst. Letting him see the damage he had done to hear that night. If this didn’t work she wasn’t sure there was anything else she could do besides walking away. Jude refused to give up. Not without one final fight. Cardan rested his head against her shoulder, an arm draped lazily around her. There was power in his fist as he clung to her. Fingers grasping at the back of her shirt. Jude copied his movements. The only difference was she felt hands running through her auburn strands in calming strokes. Her body shook against him as she finally, truly gave into the fears of what his habits did to her. Jude knew her sleeve matched his own. Soaked and used as a tissue. Cardan’s grip tightened around her with every shaky breath, every sniffle from either of them.

Jude willed herself to pull away, catching his face in her hands. Their foreheads touching and she could still smell the reek of alcohol on him. Almost like he wore it as cologne. She should ask him how he felt if he needed anything. Her emotions for once bested the thought.

“I want to hate you right now,” she choked out, biting back a sob, “because I hate what you’re doing to yourself. I hate that you’re not taking this seriously. For ten minutes. Ten minutes Cardan you died. You left me in this god damned world, you insufferable bastard. And for what?” her pitch rose with every word.

“I know.”

“I wish I could leave you. I want to,” Jude pursed her lips before continuing, Cardan only stared at where their thighs touched. She hoped it was shame that made him unable to look her in the eyes, “I’m... I couldn’t live with myself if, if, “ she stumbled trying to find the words. Too many thoughts were racing and pulsing in her mind. Jude couldn’t grasp onto one long enough to articulate it fully.

“Jude,” his eyes finally lifted under thick long lashes to meet hers. Dark circles encased around his coal eyes, “I had. No. I have failed you. And you should. I love you enough to let you go,” she was quiet, her expression unreadable as he coughed, “I know I died. Explaining it is difficult, but I know it,” gingerly he cupped her cheek, wiping away a stray tear with the tip of his thumb, “I should have stayed dead. This is a second chance. I am a sickness that needs to be cured.”

“What are you saying?”

He took in a breath and released it, “I need help.”

Jude wasn’t sure what stole the air from her lungs first. Cardan’s admittance or the way he held her. Arms wound around her like she was his lifeline, a saving grace. Like Jude was his gospel.

Taglist: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @hizqueen4life @clockworkgraystairs @b00kworm @negativenesta @sjm-things @whataboutmyfries @justgiu12 @illyrian-bookworm @thesirenwashere @ireallyshouldsleeprn @forbiddencorvidae @vanessa172003 @thewickedkings @sleeping-and-books @thefolkofthefic @yafandomsdotnet @aknymph @alittledribbledrabble @iminsanenotobsessed @figuredihadanodustollensofalife @df3ndyr @awkward-avocado-s @maastrash

want to be on my taglist? let me know!

add a song to my mixtape

#jurdan #jurdan fic #jude duarte #cardan Greenbriar #this is gospel #sadness #and I'm sorry #but not really #I'm in my feels #patd #slightlyrebelliouswriter23 #usernite #all my tags disappeared 😫#mutual mixtape #becca writes

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sodone-withlife · 4 years ago

Text

it's a sad song

heavily inspired by Hadestown, will feature lyrics from How Long? and Epic III. thanks to @yourlocalheartbreaker for indulging me and my rants about how much i love this musical

the musical's interpretation of Hades and Persephone's story is perfect for Hotch and Haley, so here is the self-indulgent cliche songfic. as usual, i did little to no proofreading so apologies for any grammatical/spelling errors. it's also more choppy than i'd like, but i really wanted to get it out so i can force myself to work on another angsty Hotch fic

warnings: canonical character death, non-canon character death, suicide

word count: 4k words

(And what has become of the heart of that man, now that the man is king? What has become of the heart of that man, now that he has everything?)

In the grand scheme of things, Hotch was lucky. He was further away from the bomb when it went off and only needed a day and a half in the hospital before he was back at the field office, taking the reins in handling the press and brass that was ready to tear Gideon apart.

The inquisition that followed in Virginia was vicious and by the end, Gideon was on indefinite medical leave and the unit was under the brass’s close scrutiny as Hotch took charge of the unit. As much as the word “temporary” was being parroted around in regards to the new chain of command, it was tacit knowledge that it was a permanent arrangement. A fiasco on the scale of Boston was enough to get an agent fired, and it was only Gideon’s seniority and excellent record that kept him with the bureau.

For Hotch, Boston and the months following only reinforced three lessons that were already hardwired into his brain:

Do not break and do not allow yourself to bleed where others can see, for there are always sharks waiting to tear you apart.

(Give them a piece and they'll take it all Show them a crack and they'll tear down the wall)

Nothing is certain. Even the strongest, the smartest, the most experienced, can fail. Do not fall victim to your own hubris, for it will be your undoing.

(Lend them an ear and the Kingdom will fall The Kingdom will fall for a song)

Death awaits everyone. It takes without mercy or regard for the lives left behind.

He was the new face of the BAU within the bureau, and even his prosecutorial and investigative record could not help protect the team from scrutiny.

So he straightened his spine and hardened his already severely sharp features, throwing himself into work and restoring the unit’s reputation.

Then Hotch came home one day to Haley’s brilliant smile and delighted excitement, and for a moment, he was reminded of the first time he talked to her nearly twenty years ago, when he told her he was quitting his smoking habit.

He had frozen when she first approached him in his dark corner a few weeks after school had resumed in the fall. She had smiled amusedly, his social ineptitude clear as day as he struggled to find words to greet her, to apologize for seeming like a creep over the summer when he first saw her outside on the sports field coaching younger students through vocal warmups before they started rehearsing the musical that was being put on that year, only to completely blank she plopped herself down next to him with her own school bag and lunch.

By the end of that day, he had convinced himself it was only going to be a one-off thing, that she wasn’t going to come back. If he had been honest with himself, part of him, the part that knew so intimately that his mother’s skin only remained free from bruises after his innocent baby brother was born was because his damned father finally had a son he could look at without being reminded of his self-hatred, wished it was.

But then she came back the next day, the day after that, and the day after that, apparently content to sit beside him in silence only broken by periodic comments about the going-ons in her life and the musical. And she continued going to sit next to him, even as he watched as others tried to warn her away, tried to physically guide her away from the bleachers.

What was stranger, he thought, was that she stayed even in spite of his silence, and in spite of his vices—he could tell she didn’t like his habit, but she didn’t comment. She just kept him company.

It was a few weeks into this arrangement, when he saw his still mostly full pack, that he realized that he hadn’t itched for a smoke during lunch for weeks, not while she was there and talking to him in ways he’d never been talked to before.

Sometime later, as the number of cigarettes in the pack remained unchanging, as the pack itself went untouched in his schoolbag, he finally threw it away.

That was the first time Hotch talked to her, to tell her that he’s giving up the habit. That small, but no less proud or bright, smile that spread across her face, he decided, was something he wanted to see again.

Slowly, he started talking more, and on good days, the two made conversation on topics ranging from classes to their favorite books all the way to whatever shenanigans Sean or Jessica was getting into. On other days, on bad days, the silence was never awkward, and she simply kept him company as he struggled to control the storm in his mind.

Those were the days his fingers itched for a cigarette, and those were the days she introduced to him a new book that he would finish within the day. The next day at school, they would once again be stuck in an in-depth conversation about the characters’ flaws and the absurdities of the antagonists, and the itch would be gone.

And it went on like this, even after he threw all caution and his doubts to the wind and asked her out on the first day of their senior year, even as they faced the townspeople’s questions about why such a good girl like Haley Brooks was dating someone of the likes of Aaron Hotchner, who, despite being so coldly brilliant, was just that.

Cold.

Dangerously unfeeling.

Barely human.

But she had seen behind the facade and she knew that he loved with the fierce burning of a thousand suns. She knew how terrified he was of losing everything, that he would be left alone and floundering in a world that was not kind to the lost.

So she stayed, through college, as she went into teaching and him into law, as the final straw came and went and he registered for the Academy and started training, breaking records along the way before finally being assigned to Seattle and quickly climbed his way up the ranks until he caught David Rossi’s keen eye and transferred back to Virginia for the BAU.

Every night, Hotch came home to his wife, the light of his life, and was reminded of why he was working himself to the bone. That day, when he came home a month after Boston for Haley to press a simple rectangular box into his hands, the stakes were raised once again, and he knew he had to fight twice as hard.

Not only for his team, the people he protected so fiercely under that steel mask, but for his son.

Early mornings and late nights became the norm as he threw himself into more and more work, and slowly, the unit began to recover as Spencer Reid and Jennifer Jareau joined the expanding unit, as Gideon returned as a senior agent, and as Elle Greenaway was pulled from Seattle just like he was all those years ago.

Then Jack was born, and he used his accrued vacation time to finally take a month off. Never had he been more terrified than in the moment he first held his son in the delivery room, acutely aware of his tiny size and sheer vulnerability to the dangers of the world.

That night, sleeping in the hospital bed with an exhausted Haley and their child in his arms, he swore to do whatever he could to make the world safer for his family.

His world.

So he tried. He tried and he tried, forcing himself to leave when cases that required their presence in the field came in, forcing himself to take on the heaviest burdens of the job so his team might be protected and his family would be safe.

Maybe a part of him was trying to get him to stop in his tracks and look up, to take a moment so he could clearly see that he was being consumed by the chase.

Maybe if he was strong enough, he could have lifted the weight of his world just enough to change the direction he was going.

But he was scared.

Scared that the moment he looked up, the moment he let go, he would lose everything he was defending.

And so he did not stop—not as Elle was shot in one place she had a right to feel safe in, not as Elle resigned and prevented him from making a terrible choice, not at Reid was suffering in a hell that could only be created by the lure of potent drugs, not as the unit was once again put under scrutiny because of her and Gideon’s actions.

Not even as he was forgetting important appointments, as he was struggling to be present for the important events and early milestones in his son’s life.

Not until he was suspended for two weeks because of the vow he made to himself the moment he stepped into the leadership position to protect the team to the best of his ability.

He stopped, looked up, and put in for a transfer.

But it was too late.

(It's true the earth must die But then the earth comes back to life And the sun just goes on rising)

(I’ve had enough)

The divorce did nothing to lessen the weight on his shoulders or the utter terror he felt at the prospect of stopping.

As more and more cases started piling on his desk, he kept his back bent and head down for hours as he pushed himself to the brink with a mental image of the smile that had not dimmed for twenty years and of the only proof of his humanity at the forefront of his mind.

Every day, he bent lower and lower, but he never let himself crumble, forcing himself to remain Atlas as Kate fell and Morgan nearly followed in New York, Reid and Prentiss in Colorado—

—as JJ and Will brought their first child into the world and he promised to protect her as best as he could so she would not make the same mistakes he did—

—as he wrangled politicians and major corporations in the aftermath of him fulfilling the promise he made to Megan Kane—

—as he called in favor after favor to get to the Vatican so Prentiss could get justice for her friends—

—as he compartmentalized as best he could when he found out about the anthrax attack at a public park he knew Haley and Jack frequented whenever they visit her parents’ house and when Reid got infected—

Then the Reaper returned after ten years of silence and ten years of being a silent spectator in Hotch’s nightmares to become an active participant in his night terrors for months.

But the night Hotch returned to his apartment with the intent of pulling out a glass of scotch and staying on his couch with a book, those dreams that left him nearly paralyzed with fear every night became his reality.

That night, as his team was sleeping in their beds, dead to the world while he was slowly bleeding out from nine stab wounds and floating in and out of consciousness in his own apartment, he only felt fear—fear for the team, fear for Haley, fear for his son.

He faded into unconsciousness with the expectation that that was it, that his hubris finally caught up to him.

Less than twenty-four hours later, Hotch was staring at the dried streak of red on the photo of his whole world and wondering if he had made his way into hell without realizing it.

When Haley and Jack visited him in the hospital, he could barely look at their faces, not wanting the scared and confused expressions they wore to be the last memory he might have of the two people whose lives he sought to protect in throwing himself into work but ended up putting in danger.

Then they were walking away, and he felt his walls slowly building themselves back up to a height and with fortifications that he had not needed since he last wore them in his youth to protect himself against the people in his hometown who had treated him with suspicion and derision.

The months following the day his world was ripped from his weakened grip was its own brand of hell, and more than once he wished he had been less of a coward and let himself look up from his chase.

Soon he was stepping down and ignoring all reason as he threw himself back into work yet again, wearing a facade that his teenage self would have been proud of while desperately trying to fulfill the promise he made Haley, that he would spend the rest of his life making everything up to her.

But of course, life has a funny way of reminding people of the promises they made and the important lessons they have learned at the worst times.

Suddenly, the sound of three gunshots was ripping through his head.

Suddenly, he was forcing himself to look away from Haley’s body, strewn on the floor like a doll with its strings cut, forcing himself to keep it together so he could clear the room.

Suddenly, he was straddling George Foyet and unleashing upon him years of pent-up hurt and anger that he had never allowed himself to feel in favor of remaining strong for the people he loved so fiercely.

Do not break and do not allow yourself to bleed where others can see, for there are always sharks waiting to tear you apart.

Nothing is certain. Even the strongest, the smartest, the most experienced, can fail. Do not fall victim to your own hubris, for it will be your undoing.

Death awaits everyone. It takes without mercy or regard for the lives left behind.

That day, Hotch was reminded of all three statements that he swore to live by after Boston.

Foyet was witness to his unraveling and poked and prodded at him, so much so that he uncovered the rage he inherited from his father and had vowed long ago to never express.

His hubris, his confidence in assumptions that had been made so many times in the past, his confidence that denying the deal that had been offered to him just over a year ago was the right thing to do, cut the threads of over ten people far too early.

Haley was lost to him.

Forever.

But in the years afterward, as Hotch found himself stuck in his head and mentally removed from the team’s present more and more often, he wondered if that was actually the moment that he lost her.

Perhaps the time he had to fly out to Mexico on his birthday weekend was the start and the stress of his suspension the catalyst.

Was he simply too destructive and too desperate to have a happy ending? Was anyone closely associating with him doomed to fall along with him?

Why else was his mother spared from bruising when she was able to focus on raising Sean, a son whose looks did not remind his father of the sheer hatred he felt for himself?

Why else had his brother, who he was estranged from, done so well in life and remained so carefree?

For what other reason could Haley have been murdered than the fact that she was collateral damage in a psychopathic narcissist’s dream to cause him as much pain as possible?

For a short time, Haley’s murder had given Hotch a chance to look up, to free himself from all the responsibilities he had taken on, but it ultimately only served to increase his fear and paranoia. The team had seen the tail end of his unraveling in that house, and he knew it had shaken them to the core, so the walls remained up. Strangers in the street were unsubs, and he was never far away from a weapon if he could help it, always fearing that he would be too late to be of any help.

Four years to the day he locked himself away, he was seeing Haley smiling radiantly at him and wearing the same dress she was wearing when he proposed as she waved him over to sit next to her in an empty movie theater and he was struggling to articulate her beauty.

The large screen in front of them was playing scenes from his life in the years since she was stolen from this life. While her eyes were glued to the projection of his memories, he was left unable to tear his eyes away from her, the woman who had been such an integral part of his life, whose death he would probably never forgive himself for, whose presence in his world he had so desperately missed.

Then he was looking down from the screen when their moment was interrupted by the man who had become a permanent fixture in his night terrors and surprising himself with just how prepared he was to kill again to protect Haley like he had failed to do years ago. It was only Haley’s repeated assurances that finally got him to look back up at the screen, and in the next moment, he was once again experiencing his nightmares in real-time.

His voice cracked as he tried calling out for help, becoming more and more desperate as it became clear no one was coming, and then—

You’re not meant to.

They were suddenly standing face to face in that dark corner of the school where they first met. Hotch froze, rooted to the spot by the uncharacteristically cold expression on Haley’s face.

Where is he?

It wasn’t right, the hard tone, the way she was looking at him as if he were a stranger—

I don’t see Aaron Hotchner in front of me. Where is he?

Then her face softened, and she walked over to sit against the wall, uncaring of the dirt that was gathering on her dress. She stared at him pointedly until he made his way over to her and joined her on the ground. It was with great surprise that he felt her lean onto him, a long-forgotten and now unfamiliar warmth settling over him.

I want to tell you a story.

She told him the story behind an old song, the story about the queen who brought spring and summer with her every time she walked the earth and the king who ruled the shades and the underworld. And though the king loved his queen so desperately, every time she walked the earth while he remained in the underworld, he doubted that she would come back to him, for what could he offer her except his darkness?

So he worked and he threw himself into building a kingdom of metal and glaring bright lights that might compensate for his darkness, but he could not bring himself to look up for fear that he would lose everything the moment he stopped. In his fear, he kept his head low and his back bending, he locked his love away so it wouldn’t be a distraction.

(But what he didn’t know is that what he is defending was already gone.)

When Hotch found himself on the edge of a roof being held against Peter Lewis, who had a gun at his temple, facing the team’s desperate and fearful faces, he could only think about that story Haley had told him and the questions she had sent towards him right before he woke up in the hospital four years prior.

(Where is the treasure inside of your chest? Where is your pleasure? Where is your youth? Where is the man with his arms outstretched to the woman he loves with nothing to lose?)

That was the first time he could remember crying in front of Jack—when the two were clinging to each other in the hospital bed after yet another close call—and he resolved it wouldn’t be the last. It hurt to tear down the walls he had so meticulously built around himself over the course of nearly five decades, but to see the smile that his son inherited from Haley…

He could only lament that he hadn’t started earlier.

Slowly, he rebuilt his world, and it was filled with a warmth that hadn’t been since those golden years between first meeting Haley and becoming a prosecutor.

But then Peter Lewis came and turned his mind against him, forcing him to watch his nightmares come to life. And when he found himself at MPD’s gunpoint with Jack watching, his world cracked.

And in that interrogation room, watching the recording of Lewis’s testimony against him, his world cracked again.

And seeing his son’s withdrawn affect, trying to get him to understand that he wasn’t leaving, that he wouldn’t ever abandon him of his own free will—

Then they were called to Arizona and he found his name carved into a victim’s forehead, and he knew it was only a matter of time before the attacks would become more and more personal.

Favors were called in, calls were made, and all the while Hotch tried to keep Jack as ignorant as possible to the way his world was going up in flames around him. For a moment, it felt like the immediate aftermath of Boston, with all of the non-stop workdays and the scrutiny of the brass falling onto him and the struggle to balance his work and Jack—

And then one day, Jack disappeared in the middle of the school day.

A day later, Rossi and Luke were holding him back, trying to keep him away from the security checkpoint at the entrance of the Academy office buildings that had been taped off as a crime scene. His eyes caught a sudden movement, and all the fight left him when he saw the white sheet being unfolded and lowered over the small body that was on the gurney.

Maybe he was supposed to be more grief-stricken than he felt.

Maybe that’s why the team tip-toed around him in the months afterward—they were waiting for the sand to run out, for the inevitable breakdown that was expected from a man such as him.

And the sand did run out, only it wasn’t where any of them expected.

The cold metal digging into his temple provided him an odd moment of clarity as he thought about the questions he had asked himself—because that wasn’t Haley, she never looked at him with such cruelty, not even when he probably deserved it, it was always that voice in the back of his head, the voice that led him down the road to hell.

That treasure that he kept in his chest—it was buried in the ground with Haley and Jack.

His pleasure, his youth, it was left behind in his past with that first strike he felt from his father.

A smile spread across his face for the first time in months and he closed his eyes, a strange peacefulness settling deep in his bones. He flung himself backward, letting himself become dead weight as he suddenly heard shouts of horror through the sound of the wind rushing around him and Peter Lewis as they fell.

Didn’t you tell me to find the man who was reaching out with nothing to lose?

I found him.

I hope you and Jack waited for me, Haley.

#criminal minds #bau #aaron hotchner #haley hotchner #hurt aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner whump #aaron hotchner x haley hotchner #hadestown #tw death #tw character death #tw suicide

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