#u start becoming very aware of every choice you Have Ever Made | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seokahwrites · 3 years

Text

NUISANCE | chapter 1 (or, human walls and steak fungi)

5.8k

back to nuisance masterlist

pairing.

| lawyer! jeon jungkook x lawyer! reader (feat. ex! kim taehyung)

summary.

| all you wished for was a relaxing two weeks in a big ass boat eating some big ass shrimps, away from the real world. but instead you’re stuck with your arch rival with no means of escape — and goddamit why does the bastard smell so good

tags.

| the spice has commenced; POUTY JUNGKOOK???; hunky jungkook?; jungkook?; jungkook in a suit; a LOT of jungkook; pouty reader; stressed out reader; use of the words dick and cooch; use of the word satan (to refer to kim seokjin ofc); KIM SEOKJIN IS THE REAL MAIN CHAR; poor joon is a victim; JUNGKOOK WEARING EARRINGS AND BRACELETS; taehyung is nice (?) (¿question mark?)

a/n.

| this writing was sponsored by red bull, alcohol and fantasies of casual jungkook as well as jungkook in a suit. also, jungkook’s smile is described as tight lipped bc his signature smile appearing is important to the story. also i wanna know y’all’s thoughts on tae. BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY THANK U FOR THE COTINUOUS SUPPORT AND LOVE, I WILL CONTINUE TO GIVE MY BEST AND THANK U FOR READING MY STORY <333

Having once spent a sleepless night reading Dante’s inferno, you were well aware of the fact that there are 9 layers of hell.

Though, it seemed the old man had forgotten about the tenth circle: Anywhere with Jeon Jungkook.

Since the first time you met him, you never had any reason to believe that he was a humble character. He had always looked at you from the top of his high horse and he took much pride in trotting on it.

As you, Jungkook and the receptionist wait for the elevator, the air thick with discomfort, you look at the man in front of you and remember that first time.

Your head is invaded with the memory of you in your Hello Kitty pajamas, adorned with grease and all, as you worked on a divorce case that causes you migraines to this day — love is a bitter bitch. It must’ve been past midnight when you and Jin were chewing away pizza slice after pizza slice at the office.

Then, there’s a knock at the door.

“If that’s Namjoon I’m literally going to fire you,” you bark at Jin as you hold his leftover crust on one hand and a document on the other.

And Jin, being the smart ass he is and knowing you wouldn’t survive a day without him, gets up from your leather couch without a word and opens the door, launching himself at none other than Kim Namjoon.

You roll your eyes at the love birds while wondering when the fuck their honeymoon phase was gonna end. You were so sick of them.

“Y/N,” Jin calls you from your desk, urging you to come to the door and once you’re beside him, this time with a cup of coke in your hands, “Can you keep them entertained for a bit? I just gotta grab Namjoon’s meds.”

Before you could say no, the little devil was already running off to his own cubicle, leaving you alone with the all familiar Namjoon and a very much not familiar stranger.

You lean on the doorframe without uttering a single word, sipping on your drink as well as the stranger — Sure, looking back at the moment you kinda just wanna punch yourself in the cooch and tell yourself to get a grip, but you weren’t blinded with hatred at the time, and also not blind — because it isn’t every night that a man clad in a charcoal suit and an unbuttoned shirt, comes knocking at your door; not to mention his watch dazzled under the artificial light and he held the blue tie in his hand with just the right grip.

You’re snapped out of your daze when the man goes from checking the time to whispering something in Namjoon’s ear, covering it the same way eight year olds cover their own secrets, and he laughs. This would all be good and well if he hadn’t looked at you with such appall in his eyes the moment before, the look still clear as day in your mind.

You're reminded that your makeup was probably smudged from all the times you had rubbed your eyes, your skin oily from the tiresome day and you were wearing Hello Kitty pajamas.

Maybe you shouldn’t have taken the insult so personally, but you did.

“I’m here,” Jin is back, a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder as the other one passes him a lunchbox of cold medicines, “What did I miss?”

At this you look up from the pitiful ground, pulling Jin back to your office, and accidentally spill (or throw) your coke at the stranger. You watch in delight as he looks at his very expensive looking suit drenched in a sticky brown, utter terror in his eyes, inhaling the wonderful moment for a second before shutting the door in his face.

The consequences of your actions: an almost two-year long rivalry with the stranger, revealed to be Jeon Jungkook moments after the incident when Jin asked, “Did you just throw your drink at Namjoon’s boss, you crazy bitch?”

And that wave has rippled to this day, in the form of insults and high-school level teasing (if his brain had even evolved to that age). The words “I’ll have you all to myself’ comes to mind; it makes you puff with exasperation. Sure it comes off a little flirty to unknowing ears, but it was just another reminder of Jungkook’s dismay — and that he had an all new access to torture you.

You attempt to shake the ick from your body, but in a trice you found yourself in front of the suite, the four floors you travelled to get there seemingly a glitch in time.

Isabelle scans the room card in front of the handle, handing it over to Jungkook after the green beep. “This is your room!”

You shove Jungkook aside, pulling your trolley as you enter. You had seen the pictures before, but seeing the grand room before your eyes in all of its shades of brown and gray dispersed throughout the walls and furniture, the intricate branch of lights in the ceiling and the panoramic ocean view that gave it its name; it made you forgot who you were sharing it with for a moment.

When you turn around, Jungkook is as wide eyed as you, and it makes the corners of your mouth lift ever so slightly because he looks like a fucking dork.

“Well,” Isabelle is smiling and you could sense her relief of not having to deal with the two of you anymore, “If you need anything, me and the rest of the Royal Sunrise team are available at all times, have fun!”

And just like that, she made her escape, leaving you and Jungkook standing in the middle of the room, alone.

For a moment you shut your eyes as hard as you can, scrunching your face with your fists up, in hopes that a miracle happens and Jungkook disappears. You have been having some odd dreams lately, maybe this was just—

Nope. He’s still there.

Since his eyes seem to have wandered too far, you call out his name to bring him back to earth, crossing your arms when his gaze lands on you, “We should probably talk about a few things.”

He drops the backpack from his back as he nods.

“First of all, the sleeping situation—“

“Yeah, I already thought of that,” he walks to the (very cramped) couch on the other side of the room and pats the armrest, “I’ll take this wonderful bed.”

You look at him with quizzical eyes, wondering how the hell was he of all people going to fit there. But it wasn’t really of your concern if he wanted to get scoliosis, he had made his decision.

“Plus, you need beauty sleep much more than me.”

What a waste of oxygen.

You shrug off his words, immune to his childish remarks at this point, “Okay, then. Next on the list, eating arrangements.”

At this point he’s picking up his things and placing them in his territory, “Why is that on the list?”

You move closer to the windows, a little excited when you see the balcony — you would use it to either push your roommate into the cold ocean or catch up on a few books, tough choice. “Because the tables are arranged by rooms.”

You felt the confusion in his eyes poking at your back, so you turn, “That means that we need to share a table for the next few days, dipshit.”

Jungkook shakes his body in agony, throwing a tiny tantrum, “Why is that even a thing?” He whined.

When you feel a headache coming, you grab your own luggage and place it on top of the bed, opening it up and digging in the pockets for a little bit of liquid luck. God knew you needed it.

You down the sample of Jack Daniels in one go with a bitter face and a blow of air.

“Really?”

You start picking out your pajamas for the night, “I was saving it for when I’d find a hot stranger by the pool but—,” when you look up and see the mess on Jungkook’s couch, you’re taken aback, “What in the world is that?”

Jungkook’s hands are rummaging through the jungle that were his things, and it’s obvious that he just shoved as many clothes as he could find lying around the house. He grabs hold of a white tee, “What?”

Again, a waste of—

“WOAH, WOAH, WOAH.”

In the roll of an eye Jungkook’s torso is fully exposed, his back turned towards you with all of its bumps and mumps looking right at you. And you only become aware that you are staring when Jungkook notices the lack of a comeback, pointing it out with a smug tone.

“Y/N,” he doesn’t turn but he snaps you out of your stunned state all the same, “I can practically hear you drooling.”

At the very next instant you cover your eyes, just as little kids do when an inappropriate scene comes on the TV. “You wish, jackass,” and it comes off a little shoutier than you expected, as if the lack of visual correlated with the volume of your voice. Blindly, you grab your shirt and shorts from the bed and run to the bathroom, which just had to be on Jungkook’s side of the room.

And things take a turn for the worse when you run into something, and that something is warm and firm and breathing.

“Uh—.”

Pain.

You convince yourself it was just an invisible, Jungkook shaped wall they failed to mention on the website and fling yourself to the bathroom door, finding the handle rather quickly from all the adrenaline.

Once you’ve slammed the door shut, you let your back slide against the wooden slab and your ass hit the marble floor.

The clothes are still in your grip, your left hand feeling your overheating cheeks and for a tick you think that maybe, just maybe, you should throw yourself into the water and let the sharks take you so you could be buried at the very depths of the ocean. It seemed like a better fate than whatever the fuck was awaiting you the next two weeks.

You take a deep breath in, letting your mind focus on something else.

You look around and, oh, wow. Even the bathroom was charming — if you could ignore the absurd amount of windows, any sea creature passing by would surely see more than they should — glass making up all of the walls, including the shower’s.

The exposure that surrounds you, in its own weird way, cleared up your head the tiniest bit and for the first time since you’ve arrived, you were able to think, only the ocean and its blue around you now.

And what would be your first course of action after a glimpse of clarity?

Calling that rat bastard assistant of yours, of course.

You stand up and place your phone atop the hazel counter after clicking contact name ‘Twinky’, out of fear you’d smash the damn thing when you hear his voice, smoke was bursting at the seams of your chest. Prepare to meet your end, Kim Seokjin—

“Good evening, Ms. Y/N. For what reason are you contacting me in the midst of your vacation?”

Breathe in, breathe out. “Don’t get all formal with me, Kim,” you’re wagging your finger to no one, “I know you did something. Confess.”

The obnoxious twirling of Jin’s chair could be heard through the speaker, “I’ve no idea of what you could possibly be talking about, Madam—“

“Confess.”

“Fine, fine,” you could picture Jin putting his hands up at your murderous tone, “Me and Joon just thought it was about time you two kids got together.”

You take a pause from your pacing around. Motherfucker.

“Okay! I thought it was time and convinced Namjoon to go along with it,” your fist meets the counter with an audible thump, and you were seethed at the probability of Jin smiling at your behaviour. “Speaking of it, how’s it going?”

“Well, Jin,” you place the microphone as near to your mouth as possible, “JEON JUNGKOOK IS TAKING OFF HIS CLOTHES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING ROOM,” you put on a docile face and naturally assume that Jin could see you telepathically, “So you tell me how it’s going.”

For the first time since you hired him, you had left Jin speechless. Or so you thought.

“I didn’t know you would move this fast—“

“Jin.”

“I apologise, I apologise,” the witch cackles, “But you didn’t give me any context, I only assumed the best.”

“Spare me from your taunts, you hag,” you huff and roll your eyes, “And, as I’ve told you many times before, Jeon Jungkook is literally the worst. I hate—.”

“—him. Yes, Y/N, I’ve been hearing the same speech every single day for two years,” you could hear Jin walking back and forth before an abrupt pause, “Listen to yourself, Y/N, you brought this upon yourself. Whenever you saw or just remembered Jungkook existed you wouldn’t stop talking about him. So, being the good friend I am, I handed you his—,” you rush in a failed attempt to muffle his next words with your hand, “—dick on a silver platter.”

Oh, dear lord.

“You’re out of your mind if you think I wanna be anywhere near Jungkook’s—,” you speak in a hushed tone, “—thing.”

“See, you can’t even say it,” and you give up, because no matter how many times you denied it, Jin never let up. “Anyway, I gotta go and… take a call. Have fun!”

And he hangs up.

All you can do is groan, making a mental note that you oughta kick Jin in the balls one of these days, and you look at yourself in the mirror — you couldn’t even enjoy your tacky shirt because of him. Was a normal vacation really too much to ask for?

You remember that the universe had already answered your question with a big yes, and you can’t help but pout.

Still, ever the changing mind, were you really going to let the universe win?

Your pout turns into a smirk. Of course, you weren’t. All you needed to do was avoid Jungkook as much as possible, that would be easy for sure, you were on a gigantic cruise ship after all.

Yeah, this can still be great.

And so, quick to think as always, you grab your phone and scroll through the Royal Sunrise website.

To your luck, the cruise offered classes and activities of all types with a different theme each day — tomorrow is cooking. Not only was it going to be actually entertaining, you could avoid Jungkook without having to look behind you every other minute.

Genius.

With this new mindset and plan, you change into your oversized navy shirt and banana-printed shorts, a newfound excitement in your step. You even bang your chest with each of your fists, a gorilla-esque fighting technique if you shall, as a way to pump you up.

The door doesn’t seem as intimidating when you push it open, your arms swinging at your side as if you were one of the seven dwarves. This was good.

Immediately you're met with the vexing view of Jungkook, and you quirk your eyes when you notice that all he was wearing was a pair of gray shorts and that white tee, the oddity of it all iffy in your head since you’ve only ever seen him in suits and shirts. There’s a familiar tingling of (what you always assumed was) contempt in your fingertips and toes, one that would only ever occur with Jungkook. Hatred finds a way, huh.

He looks at you, back to his phone and back to you all in one second, and once his brain processes that you’re back and present, he ditches his phone and props himself up on one elbow. “You know the walls aren’t that thick, right?”

The tingle turns into a twitch and you almost hit yourself. Breathe, Y/N.

Jungkook sits up, crossing his arms, his eyes wandering once again, “I knew that Namjoon was planning something. He was sweating so much, I thought it was just the heat,” and they land back on you, “Turns out, it was betrayal.”

You head to your own king-sized resting place and a chuckle slips out of you at Jungkook’s little remark. “You did hear that Jin was the one who dragged him into this, right?”

You’re both pulling your covers over your bodies with silent grins due to the dumbassery of your assistants, “I assumed as much.” At this, your smiles become full-out laughs and your heads must have been too exhausted to dwell on the out of character situation.

It fades after a few seconds and you take one final look at Jungkook before turning off the lights, only to make sure he was already laid down.

Your anxiety comes back to the surface, your eyes staring blankly ahead at the ceiling.

“What a mess,” you don’t even notice you had blurted it out loud.

The rustling of sheets sounds through the otherwise cricket-silent room, “Tell me about it.”

Another chuckle.

“Jungkook,” you call him, the words coming out with no warning, “Can we just promise, no monkey business? I just really wanna relax and—.”

“Y/N,” he stops you before you could yap any further, “No monkey business.”

His interruption makes you sheepish, that tingle coming back as you fiddle with the sheets.

All of the sudden, “Good night, Y/N.”

Silence.

“Don’t be a killjoy.”

Groan. There really isn’t any reason for you to answer the prick. Still, you roll your eyes, “Good night, you troll.”

You hear his pleased sigh.

“Kinda bummed you don’t want my thing, though.”

Damn you, Kim Seokjin.

Your eyes flutter open, not with the calming sound of the dancing waves or the rustling of the sheets beside you from a happy hour mistake, no. You wake up with the sound of the shower running, the drip drop of the water meeting the glass floor of the bathroom.

The walls are very thin.

The image of a very naked Jungkook just next door is forced into your head, and you try to get rid of it by putting a pillow over your face, in hopes that it would put an end to your misery, but the world only gives a hundred problems and zero solutions.

Sat up, you remind yourself of the fresh-new mindset you had implemented yesterday, and this motivates you to restart your morning right and get dressed for the busy day ahead.

You squat down to your bag, grabbing the first jumpsuit and shoes in front of you, surprisingly not too shabby. The black off-shoulder fabric was adorned with pale pink flowers and your basic white sneakers didn’t add much but they were still a welcome fit — you’d only brought three pairs of shoes, so you didn’t really have much of a choice.

The background noise of the shower running disappears.

Shit.

You stumble around the room, trying to switch out of your clothes as fast as you possibly could to avoid any of yesterday’s incidents repeating, the need of any sort of grooming forgotten along the way. Still, you succeeded, and just as Jungkook unlocked the bathroom door, you were out of the room.

The joy in your step was back as you took the few steps needed to the elevators, pressing that little button of victory. Though you’ve been to countless luxury premises, the details of each place still managed to leave you awestruck, and the black railing and golden walls of the ship with decoration clearly inspired by the Romans, weren’t an exception.

The elevator was going from the sixth floor to the fifth when you heard a door open, the hairs of your back standing up out of instinct.

“Wait up!”

Fuck me.

You turn to the left, met with the, once again, odd view of Jeon Jungkook wearing casual clothes, this time in a charcoal shirt a few sizes too big, black cargo pants and signature chunky shoes. But, there’s something even more strange and you can’t quite put a finger to it, it isn’t the fact his lavish watch was replaced with leather braids on his wrist or that his hairs strayed a bit more wildly, it’s—

“Holy shit,” your eyes shoot wide open, “Are those hoops?”

Your hands almost go to touch the silver in his ears, but you remind yourself you’d probably turn to stone.

An unfamiliar red paints Jungkook’s face as his own fingers prod at the earrings, his eyes not meeting yours, “Maybe.”

A gasp. “How did I never notice,” you state more than ask, but Jungkook answers all the same.

“I mean, I never wear them to anything work-related because keeping a professional image and all of that,” he looks at you, his bashfulness fading into an all-knowing smile, “And those are the only times I see your bitter face.”

You scoff, “Wow, actually we talked like normal people for a whole thirty seconds.”

The imp has the audacity to laugh at your face, the way he stops to scan you up and down going unnoticed by your sight. “I gotta say, Y/N, you actually know how to dress—“

Ding.

The black tinted doors open to the glass elevator, a panorama of all the ship’s floors in full display, blue and purple lights reflecting on the gilded ornaments. Your hands rest on the black railing and you don’t even notice there’s another person in the elevator.

“Y/N?” The deep timbre of the voice is all too easy on your ears.

A slight turn to the right is all it takes to see him, fluffy ash hair (that was rough between your fingers from all the times he had dyed it), a shirt that flowed like the clouds and beige slacks that matched with the sepia of his sandals (an ensemble that contrasted the vibrant version of him in your memory). But that square grin was still the same.

“Tae?” You laugh in utter disbelief, “Kim Taehyung?”

“Come here!” His long arms bring you into a hug and with your head nuzzled against his chest, his heartbeat echoed good times, easier times that weren’t filled with paperwork and suits.

It’s interrupted by your forgotten acquaintance clearing his throat.

You pull away, recomposing yourself as you stand beside Taehyung, “Jungkook, this is Kim Taehyung,” you feel Taehyung’s eyes on you, “He was kind of my college boyfriend.”

They shake hands and look back at you, as if waiting for something.

“Uh— Right. Tae, this is Jungkook, my—,” you glance at the brunet to find the right words, “—co-worker, of sorts.”

Your embarrassment only deepens when you remember that the Jeon Jungkook was a first-hand witness to the mess you were melting into in front of your ex-boyfriend.

Who needed caffeine when shit like this kept happening to you.

“Oh,” Taehyung’s voice drops an octave as he shoves his hands in his pockets, “So you two came together?”

And you wave your arms around to signal a ‘no’, but it comes off as ‘that-one-crackhead-at-the-corner-of-the-street-ish” instead. “God, no,” you snort, much to your chagrin.

Taehyung sticks his tongue between his teeth, staring down at Jungkook who was chewing on his own bottom lip, “That’s good to hear.”

It seems you’ve regressed to your college-self, tucking your hair behind your ear with blushed cheeks at your senior.

Ding.

The elevator had arrived at the first floor, Jungkook’s cue to leave.

But he doesn’t make a straight itinerary, instead standing in front of the elevator, “Aren’t you gonna catch breakfast, chump?”

Ah, right. Your genius plan could finally come out in the open, “No, actually. I have an all-day cooking class on the 5th floor.”

“No kidding,” Taehyung turns to you and places a hand on your bare shoulder with a wide smile, “Me too!”

At this, Jungkook’s shoulders slump and his expression falls flat, but you couldn’t get a word in as the elevator doors closed and he swiveled away to his own day.

Eh, it’s not like it was your affair anyways. Plus, 9AM wasn’t the hour to deal with his bullshit.

You and Taehyung made your way up, speaking of all the things you’ve been up to for the past three years.

“So, Jimin’s dancing in Europe,” you gasp, a swell of pride in your chest, your old friend would talk about it every free night he spent in yours and Taehyung’s flat.

“Yeah, now I don’t know who’s keeping an eye on all the dumb shit he does.”

The weight on your shoulders only got lighter with every laugh you shared with Taehyung, sweet nostalgia.

“We’re here,” you point at the chalk sign, the words ‘Bon Appetit’ scribbled on it.

Out of sheer intuition, you pull Taehyung by the wrist until you reach the entrance, a Royal Sunrise worker awaiting with a list of, what could only be, the names of the participants.

You let go of Taehyung when the man’s eyes travel to your holding hands. Oh, God.

He smiles, “Good morning, Mr. and Ms. What would your names be?”

“Good morning, I’m Y/N Y/LN,” your smile hadn’t left your face, “I signed up yesterday.”

He nods and you walk inside, Taehyung following you before the worker puts up a hand to stop him.

“Your name, sir,” his tone changes..

You look back, wondering what the fuss was about.

“Uh— Kim Taehyung.”

The man reads over the clipboard, even flipping to the previous pages. “Excuse me, Mr. Kim. But your name doesn’t seem to be in the—.”

Taehyung’s calm demeanour becomes a bitter scowl as he pats a fifty dollar note down the man’s pocket before he could continue his speech. “Just let this one slide, buddy.”

The sight is a bit rough on the eyes and the corners of your lips turn downwards, something itching at your throat, but you hadn’t seen him in a long time and he most likely had good intentions with the man, you could let it slide, right?

“So,” Taehyung rubs his hands with a smile that reaches the pillows of his eyes, a 360° from the him you saw a few seconds ago, “Where were we?”

The blue of the sky had faded into a deep lilac once you and Taehyung were finished with your last batch of food.

You stood outside with smiles plastered on your faces and flour sprinkled on your hair, reminders of a day well-spent.

“This was great,” you held boxes of chocolate crepes and mushroom pasta, “Except for the fact I was forced to eat and deal with mushrooms.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows pull together, “So many years together, and I didn’t know you hated mushrooms,” you remember telling him countless times, but he never had the best memory — you don’t bother to bring up your hatred for crepes. “But, yeah… I think it was the company that sealed the deal, though.”

A beat of silence. The boy was smooth as ever.

You’re the first to break it. “I guess I’ll go get dinner then.”

“Right, right,” he purses his lips, “I’m gonna catch a nightcap, too full for food anyways. See you, Y/N.”

And you only mumble a small goodbye before you and Taehyung are going different directions.

A day well spent indeed.

Grumble.

You couldn’t keep it in anymore.

Holy Moses, were you hungry as shit. Who knew that barely eating breakfast and lunch could do this to a person.

Once the coast is clear, you run to the elevator, pressing the button repeatedly because why is this thing so fucking slow.

The time taken to go down to the first floor is even more agonising, but you just imagined the wonderful meals that actually tasted like food waiting for you downstairs. You could feel the pork melting in your mouth already.

Ding.

Since the first floor is more packed, you pace yourself as you power-walk to the dining area but you arrive in no time, walking through the tables and scanning each marker for the number 83, until you finally find your salvation — and the mop of brown hair sitting there with its unmistakable silver.

You park your ass on the wooden chair and place the white boxes of gag-worthy food on the table.

“Fancy meeting you here, Y/N,” Jungkook shoves a fork of rare steak and potatoes in his big mouth.

“Don’t antagonise me, Jungkook,” you leap to grab his wrist before he can get another scoop, “Where’s the food?”

You feel him tense under your grip, “Okay, let go of me, hungry hungry hippo,” you loosen your fist and lean back on your chair with crossed arms, “And the restaurant is out of steaks for the night, your only other option is some fried fish or something,” he continues munching.

“No—,” your head meets the table with a bang, “—I’ve been dreaming of red meat all day.”

“Didn’t you cook at— you know, cooking class?”

“Yes, we did,” you sit up and shove the boxes of trash to Jungkook as he examines them.

“But, you hate mushrooms and crepes,” he turns his head in a robotic motion when he opens the lids.

Your hunger fades for a bit as that tingle in your fingertips pushes you to sit straight, leaning your head like a curious puppy.

“How do you know that?”

Jungkook bites his bottom lip as he seems to think of a response. “Well, you mentioned it at the Law & Practice Awards a few months ago,” he rubs his fingers on his chin with a feign look of concentration, “I believe your exact words were: ‘Why does the stake have fungus on it’ and ‘Everybody knows that crepes are just a—.”

“—a cheap version of pancakes,” you finish his sentence with surprise painted on your face. Still, you question him, “But, how do you even remember that?”

Jungkook’s flush is back on his cheeks, “As they say, keep your friends close,” he flashes that tight lipped smile of his, “And your enemies closer.”

Just as you were about to flip the fucker off, your stomach grumbles. Out of all of the moments it could’ve complained, it decided to do so in the only second of silence.

Jungkook mumbled something along the lines of “That’s it,” under his breath and let out a sharp exhale, cutting up his steak and taters and pushing them into a smaller plate, adding a few greens in the mix. He snaps his fingers at the nearest waiter and grabs a glass of wine from his tray. The act finishes off with him pushing the food in your direction.

You stare at the food, at Jungkook and back at the plate again. Dumbfounded, once again.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Eat,” he continues on with his dinner as if he hadn’t just done— Well, what he just did.

You bite your lip and bow your head slightly, though you’re sure he doesn’t see it, before vacuuming the food directly into your belly.

The rest of the evening is spent in comfortable silence, no daggers threatened to be thrown or scorn weighing in the air. This lasts all the way to the door of the room; you were fine with communicating with only ‘hums’ and nods but Jungkook, as always, had to ruin things.

He leans his back against the white door, arms crossed and a smirk as he looks down at you. “How lucky of you to have your mortal enemy and—,” he puts up air quotes, “‘kind of college boyfriend’ in the same boat as you, huh?”

You palm your face and hide a sheepish smile, “I was hoping you’d forget about that.”

“How could I when I was your special guest to first hand embarrassment in the elevator,” he waves the white flag of peace as he puts his hands up, “But, hey—“

“Hi, Jungkook,” someone behind you purrs, heels clacking.

You turn around and see a woman of jet-black hair in a stunning red silk dress, the pony-tail on her head swinging a delicate left to right as she waved her manicured hand at none other than Jungkook — who brushes a hand through his hair before complimenting her greeting.

It takes you by surprise, though you laughed at Jungkook’s gnarly stance at the beautiful woman, the tingle comes back, this time prickling at the pit of your stomach.

As soon as she had walked away, you rubbed your hands at the sides of your arms, “Wow, Jungkook. Moving fast are we?” you squint your eyes, “I think it’s the earring.”

“First of all, screw you,” he unlocks the door, “Second, that’s nothing, trust me.”

He holds the door open for you and you catch a whiff of his black vanilla scent. You stop in your tracks and place a hand on his shoulder with a grimace on your face, “Just don’t do anything on my bed, okay?”

You don’t bother to wait for an answer as you head to the bathroom with your comfy tee in your hands.

This time, the counter was embellished with skincare and cologne galore, all thanks to your dear roommate.

“He wouldn’t notice if I used some of this, right?” You say to Jungkook’s bottle of cleanser, too lazy to go back and grab your own toiletries.

“If you use that I’m drowning myself,” you hear him shout from the other room.

Sorry, face. You’ll have to wait for tomorrow.

Once you were snug in your tee, you were off to bed — Jungkook in the same attire as yesterday as well.

You leave the lamp on as you checked your phone for the first time since yesterday. Of course, Jin was your only notification, a plethora of obscenities and questions that would, unfortunately, be permanently ingrained in your mind forever. You turn off your phone and throw it on top of the night stand.

Not today, satan.

“You mind?” You ask Jungkook who seemed to be scrolling away, too engrossed in his phone to look at your finger pointing at the light, only a grunt on his behalf.

You turn it off and shut your eyes, your body tense, not that you weren’t used to it, the decaying muscles of your back have been like that since you graduated high-school. And, it was a bit more intense from all the mixing and pot handling — thank the heavens that tomorrow’s activities involved massaging. Though, today was a win.

Jungkook’s phone turns off and his body sloshes around, the sounds he makes the only ones reverberating in the room.

“Good night, Y/N,” you try to ignore him, but he comes forward with a good case, “Come on, I gave you my food.”

Guilt tripper.

“Fine, but only because you’re annoying as shit,” he lets out a satisfied breath, “Good night, Jungkook.”

You arrive at dreamland in no time.

taglist. (open)

| @fangirl125reader / @vantxx95 / @jinpanman / @ggukkieland / @miniiimee / @paizthemaiz

263 notes · View notes

seriouslysnape · 3 years

Note

HIii! I was wondering if you could write something Fred (6th/7th year) x Gryffindor Reader (i know u dont usually write him) maybe something where reader and fred are best friends and shes in love with him but she thinks he dosent like her that way with a fuffy ending? maybe some angst not too much tho thank youuu <3 if you dont want to write fred (😭) you can write it for lupin (6th/7th year)

His Favorite Girl

Fred Weasley x Gryffindor! Reader

Warnings: Language.

Word Count: 3,430

“Woah. Guess I had more to drink than I thought.”

The Gryffindor common room. An ever changing space for all Gryffindor students to unwind, study, or party, depending on the occasion. The common room was always crowded from wall to wall after a Quidditch match, especially when Gryffindor reigned victorious. The players all filed in, bursting with good energy and an itch to celebrate their win. Oliver Wood exploded inside first with an unmistakably beaming smile spreading across his face.

The Gryffindor students who hadn’t been able to make it to watch the match automatically knew that they had won based on Oliver’s visible jubilant mood. You were one of the unfortunate ones that hadn’t been able to make it, but you knew that the team would bring the party to you. The Weasley twins came bopping in next, George carrying a very happy Harry Potter on his shoulders. Harry leapt off of George’s shoulders before the tall twin could knock him into the top of the doorframe.

Your sights automatically set on the other Weasley twin. Fred was beaming with delight at their impressive win. Fred was damn proud to be a Gryffindor, and beating the brakes off of Slytherin was one of his favorite pastimes. He couldn’t be any happier at this moment. It warmed your heart to see him so joyful and full of glee.

You raked over his tall, slender yet muscular frame. His signature red hair was damp with sweat and parts of his face were caked with dirt.

Fred caught your stare, his smile never leaving his face as he gave you a friendly wink. You closed the Potions book in your lap, getting up from the sofa with a silent hope that your thumping heartbeat wasn’t obvious to anyone.

It was a hard thing to do. Keeping your ever growing crush and admiration for Fred Weasley under wraps was becoming more and more difficult as time went on. The seemingly simple solution (as all of your friends had told you) to do would be to “just tell him” how you felt. But it was MUCH easier said than done.

There were so many things that could possibly go wrong if you were to confess your feelings to Fred. You would be running the risk of ruining a beautiful friendship that had done nothing but blossom over the last seven years if he didn’t share that same admiration. You didn’t want to lose your best friend just because your heart felt differently than his.

At the same time, you wanted to tell him every scrap and ounce of how your soul felt lost without him. There had been a few times over the years where you had an opportunity to lay your heart out on the line for him. Each time you had this heavy feeling in your chest letting you know you needed to make a move.

You built up the courage each time, but were interrupted by George or another one of your friends before you could bite the bullet. You knew it wasn’t healthy to keep this holed away in yourself. Your love would only grow more. The more days that passed, the more you began to wonder how different your life would be if you never told him. Not to mention that graduation was only a few months away, and there was always the risk of losing contact with him when you went separate ways.

That is, IF you were to go separate ways.

On the other side of the coin, there was always a chance that Fred possibly did harbor the same admiration for you. That would totally change things in the long run. The idea of starting a romantic relationship, possibly getting married, and having a family was nothing short of perfect.

But you had to get to that point first.

Everyone rallied around Harry, shaking him excitedly and singing their praises to him for his incredible Snitch catch. Suddenly, blaring and thunderous chatter filled the common room as more exhilarated students piled in. Within the hour, a sea of Gryffindors occupied the room, complete with blasting music and an ungodly amount of alcohol.

Oliver had gathered a crowd of first years in one corner of the common room as he retold every solitary second of the match from his point of view, starting from the very beginning. The wide eyed first year wizards and witches were on the edge of their seats as they listened to his story, some of them beginning to wonder if they had what it took to be great Quidditch players.

On the other side of the room, you were settled once again on the sofa with Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, who were seated in the arm chairs across from you. They were exhausted from playing all day, but that didn’t stop them from engaging in some girl talk.

Alicia and Katie were your dearest friends, and they were the only ones who knew about your crush on Fred. A crush that had quite honestly evolved into something much more. They were always keeping an ear out to see if Fred said anything remotely leading them to believe that he might like you back. As surprising as it was, Fred never really outwardly spoke about his romantic side.

Speaking of, Fred and George were in another corner of the room with Harry and Ron, doing God only knows what. Fred was considerably tipsy, but nothing even close to plastered. You had seen Fred drunk before, and needless to say, it was a hysterical sight.

“So, [Y/N],” Alicia spoke up, her dark skin looking extra glowy from the fire roaring in the fireplace; “Fred was awfully excited to come back to tell you that we won.”

Katie perked up, her head lifting from where it had been leaning on the back of the chair.

“Yeah! The first thing that he told George was that he couldn’t wait to tell you the news. Although, I guess Oliver kind of told everyone before Fred had the chance.”

“Really? He said that?” You asked, sitting up a little straighter.

Alicia nodded vigorously, gripping Katie’s forearm with elation. Alicia and Katie had never tried to set the two of you up, mainly because you had begged them not to. That didn’t stop them from trying to be the ultimate wingwomen. They believed that you and Fred would be a stellar couple. They were convinced you were made for one another.

They both feared that you’d never make an attempt to make it happen.

“He sure did. I heard him myself.” Katie replied.

Alicia glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening before leaning forward closer to you. Her voice was quiet, loud enough so only you and Katie could hear as she spoke.

“Graduation is coming up quickly. You’ve got to tell him.” She advised.

You sighed heavily. If you had a galleon for every time one of them had told you that, you’d be a wealthy woman. They just didn’t seem to get that it just isn’t that easy. You wouldn’t deny that proclaiming your deepest secret to someone didn’t scare you. It was terrifying to offer your heart and soul to someone, even when you knew that they might get broken as a result. You didn’t want to live with a broken heart.

But you didn’t want to live always asking yourself “what if”.

Before you could respond, a figure plopped themself next to you, his familiar scent sending flutters all through you. Fred basically snuggled up next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. Despite the fact that you weren’t dating, Fred was comfortable enough with you to get extremely close, which didn’t help your situation at all.

Alicia and Katie held down their snickers and giggles at how you were clearly flustered. You tried not to wriggle too much under Fred’s hold, and draw any attention to yourself. He was your best friend, and you knew how to play it cool when he was around.

“Hi, [Y/N].” Fred slurred loudly over the noise.

You laughed softly at the smell of Firewhiskey that was radiating off of him. You weren’t much of a drinker, but you’d have a drink with Fred from time to time.

“Hey, Fred. Congratulations on the match.” You complimented.

Fred grinned proudly, looking down at your slumped body. His eyes were beginning to glaze over from the alcohol, but he looked as sober as ever. He had a certain look in his eyes that you couldn’t identify.

“Thanks. Those bloody Slytherins got what they deserved.” He stated.

“Oliver seems over the moon with how it went.” You remarked, smiling as you looked behind you to see Oliver now standing on a table as he continued telling his thrilling tale.

When you turned back to Fred, you couldn’t help but notice how Fred hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. The butterflies in your belly were going totally bananas now. His gaze did eventually shift to the Potions book that was placed next to your feet, and he let out a guttural sound. He reached for it, noting that it had obviously been put to good use in the last several hours.

“Have you been studying?” He questioned, holding the book in his hand.

You sheepishly nodded, aimlessly reaching for the textbook. An offended look crossed Fred’s face as he held the book far out of your reach. Damn his long arms.

“I have a test on Monday. Advanced Potions is kicking my ass this year and I’ve just barely been getting by so I have to study extra time.” You expressed, laughing at your fruitless attempt to get the book back.

His sharp jaw fell open a tad and he stretched back even further to ensure you didn’t get the book back for now.

“You’re kidding me. I missed my favorite girl at the match because she was stuck in the common room studying for a TEST?” He acquired, not even aware of the weight behind his choice of words.

You felt your smile fade into more of a bashful expression. Your body slinked back into the cushions, forgetting all about the book. His words rang in your word.

Favorite girl.

Fred Weasley’s favorite girl.

Alicia and Katie were both wide eyed and jaw dropped at what he had just said. They were looking back and forth between the two of you like they were at an intense tennis match.

Fred was so aloof and oblivious to the fact that he had literally just melted your heart with a single sentence. You spent so much time with Fred that you just didn’t understand how he couldn’t see it.

Fred knew you backwards and forwards. He could see straight through you when you were lying or when you were sad, but claiming you were fine. He always remembered your favorite treats from Honeydukes and how you liked hot Butterbeer on cold winter nights. It made him happy to hear you talk about your favorite Muggle novels or tell him about something funny that happened in McGonagall’s class. He knew you better than anyone.

But why couldn’t he see the way you were yearning for him?

“You missed me?” You asked, shrinking even further into the cushions.

Fred looked at you as if that were the dumbest question he had ever been graced with. He lowered his arm at your sudden demeanor change, gently putting the book in your hand. Alicia and Katie leaned in carefully, eager to see where this conversation was going. Much to their disappointment, Fred didn’t get a chance to answer due to another member joining you on the couch.

George landed less gracefully than Fred had, basically landing on top of you and smothering you. Your shrieks were muffled in George’s Quidditch robes, Fred wrestling his brother off of you.

“Hey! George, get off of her.” He grunted, heaving his brother’s very limp body off of you.

Alicia threw her hands up in defeat at the interruption, Katie falling back into her chair. So close, yet so far. You gasped for air as George fell on the open seat next to Fred. George was way further gone than Fred. He was barely even able to keep his eyes open, let alone get any real, complete thought across.

“Nice timing, George.” Katie said sarcastically.

You gave her a menacing look, not wanting her to bring it up. George snorted, and his sentence came out more as one incoherent word.

“Did I interrupt something important?” He heavily slurred between hiccups.

You rolled your eyes. Leave it to George to ruin this for you. You were discouraged that your chance had been shot down once again, but it wasn’t George’s fault. You were just glad to see your friends in such high spirits. Soon enough, the rest of the party goers had crowded towards the center of the room where you were. The party raged on well into the night, a complete celebration with dancing, singing, and more drinking.

As easily as the party could’ve carried on and on, eventually the famed players’ exhaustion caught up with them and they all slowly dwindled down and sauntered off to their respective dorm rooms. You hugged Alicia and Katie goodnight, knowing they’d be passed out in their beds by the time you got up to your dorm room.

You spoke to Harry and Ron for a bit, giving Harry a friendly kiss on the top of his head for his winning catch. His pasty white cheeks went red as he and Ron retreated to their room in a fit of blushy giggles. That left just you and the twins in the common room that was now completely trashed. Empty cups and half spilled bottles of alcohol were scattered about, people even leaving behind some of their school stuff to be recollected in the morning.

George was a mumbling, intoxicated mess. He was close to falling asleep, and Fred wanted to get him to bed before he was completely unable to stand up. You’d be up for a while cleaning up the common room. You always hated leaving a room knowing it was messy, so you didn’t mind picking up after everyone. Fred knew you’d stay behind to clean up, but he didn’t want you to have to do it alone. He draped his babbling twin over his shoulders, grimacing at how George was usually heavier when he was drunk.

“I’m going to run George upstairs and then I’ll be back to lend you a hand.” He smiled, ignoring the things that George was trying to say to him.

“You don’t have to. I can handle it.” You said, tossing a handful of cups away.

“I know you can. I just don’t want you to be lonely is all.” He said, turning on his heel and marching up the boys’ dormitory stairs with George.

You felt a warm flush course through you at his words once more. You weren’t sure why you were extra sensitive to him tonight. Sure enough, Fred returned a few minutes later, almost stumbling into the wall at the bottom of the stairs. You both laughed as he gave a witty comment.

“Woah. Guess I had more to drink than I thought.” He said, walking into the room once he steadied himself.

“Is George okay?” You asked, accepting the pile of empty bottles that Fred placed into your trash bag.

You usually hand cleaned for the first few minutes, but would eventually grow bored and cast a spell from your wand to finish the work. It was seldom that the common room was this quiet, so you liked to bask in the silence for a little after there was a party.

Fred scoffed with a nod.

“Oh, yeah. He’ll be fine. Nasty hangover in the morning, but there’s a potion for that.”

As usual, the two of you were tired of cleaning, so you waved your wand with a quick cleaning charm. You both watched in amazement as the trash and everything else whisked around the room into trash bins, leaving the room spotless. You put your wand in your back pocket with a satisfied hum. Usually, this would be the time where you went to bed, but you were getting that familiar heavy feeling in your chest.

It immediately dawned on you that you had a perfect chance here. No one was around, and no one would be around for more than enough time.

“You want to sit and chat for a bit?” Fred questioned, noticing your dazed look; “You seem like you’ve got something on your mind.”

The fireplace was still occupied with a cozy warm fire, which was very inviting. You nodded, following Fred to the same couch you had been on earlier. The common room was beyond peaceful now, your head almost lulling onto Fred’s shoulder in relaxation.

Oddly enough, you weren’t freaked out now. In all the past times you had tried to do this, you were a jittery mess and could barely get a word out without stuttering. You felt so at ease now, as if this was something you did often. You hadn’t even had a drop of alcohol tonight, so you couldn’t blame it on that.

“So what’s up?” Fred questioned after you didn’t initiate a conversation.

He had unknowingly opened a door that you knew you had to take. It was now or never.

“I’m just thinking about some things.” You admitted.

Fred’s curiosity was sparked now. He was always interested and willing to hear what was going on in your mind.

“What kind of things?” He pressed on.

Your sights were set on the flames in front of you, causing you to miss the way that Fred was looking at you with such fondness and care. He was cherishing every passing second of this moment.

“You and me.” You confessed.

Fred was filling with anticipation, not sure where you were going with this. He raised a brow.

“What about us?” He replied.

You took a breath.

“Fred, what did you mean when you said I was your favorite girl?” You queried.

Fred looked into your eyes that were peering up at him in a puppy-like way. He noticed that you were expecting an answer. Fred, as confident as ever, responded with a voice like butter, his accent a little thicker.

“Because you’re my favorite person in the world.” He revealed.

Your heart caught in your throat and your breathing hitched. So far so good.

“I am?” You asked to confirm

Fred’s arm that was around you pulled you in closer. You were being flooded with such a sense of intimacy that it was overwhelming. Your nose was level with his chin, and you were so close to his face that you swore you could hear the blood flowing through his face. Fred knew what was happening now, and he was ecstatic about it. He had wanted you all along, but never knew how’d you’d react. The last thing he ever wanted to do was scare you off.

He thought about all the times he had seen you upset, and how it hurt him when you were pained with something. He always wished for nothing but happiness for you. He didn’t want to ruin things because of how he felt.

But now he was sure that you’d be here to stay.

“Absolutely you are. You’re all I ever think about.” He whispered, stroking your face with the side of his thumb that was wrapped around you.

This didn’t feel real, but felt all too real at the same time.

“Why are you whispering?” You smiled softly, whispering back to him.

He smirked, and whispered again.

“Because I want you to know how much I love you.”

A cannon of confetti seemingly exploded all throughout your body. Shock, desire, lust, love, want, everything went through you all at once. This wasn’t at all how you had imagined this happening, but you were happy that it did. It was very fitting for the two of you.

“Kiss me.” You whispered once more.

He lowered his head and his lips caught yours in a feverish way. All the pent up feelings from the last 6 years all loaded themselves into the kiss. It was a huge weight off of your shoulders.

“I love you,” You professed once Fred pulled away; “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to tell you that.”

Fred chuckled lightly, responding before kissing you again.

“I think I have a pretty good idea.”

#fred weasley #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x female reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley blurb #fred weasley fluff #Harry Potter #harry potter fred weasley #seriouslysnape

496 notes · View notes

cheegu3 · 3 years

Text

~ Yandere Hyunjin - X31 [CULT SPECIAL 2/2 PTS]

tw / trigger warning: yandere themes, cult themes (brainwashing etc), violence, blood/gore, murder, disturbing themes, swearing

wc: 3k

a/n: so I’m a bit tipsy and wrote this just like really quickly idek what’s going on or if this is shit lmao sorry, I will proofread this tomorrow mwah love u

summary: the gang from your hometown that you knew as criminals had now kidnapped you and as they take you to their destination you soon find out they’re actually a cult, will you be able to escape or will you become their pet forever?

‘‘ You’re..them ‘‘ you muttered at last somehow sounding disbelieved.

‘‘ You must’ve known right? At least a part of you knew all along ‘‘ he answered with a smirk.

You huffed.

‘‘ If I knew, don’t you think I would’ve fought back harder than I did? ‘‘ you looked at him coldly.

‘‘ Well actually- ‘‘ he leaned in closer to you, so close that you could see your own reflection in his crazy, empty brown eyes.

‘‘ I think you wanted this ‘‘ he adds.

‘‘ W-what are you fucking crazy? ‘‘ you exclaimed hysterically, the panic was overtaking your body every second that passed.

He nodded and the smirk was back again as if he enjoyed seeing you like this. You bet he had seen way worse captures of his, who suffered a lot more.

‘‘ You want to know why? ‘‘ he asked tauntingly.

He didn’t even give you a chance to answer before he went on.

‘‘ You’re a lonely pathetic woman in her 20s. You have no job, no money, no boyfriend or husband and no family ‘‘ he said this in such a mocking manner that it took you aback. You felt like your whole body went cold, like you were an insect under his magnifying glass and after he had inspected you he crushed you.

This was all too much for you. You tried the best that you could to turn away from him, sort of looking out the window - only, all the windows were covered up and you assumed it was to make you feel disoriented and not see where you were. It was smart, you’d admit that. On top of that the leader had kept you occupied so you didn’t even get the chance to feel what ways the car was turning to somehow name your location.

He didn’t say anything more for the rest of the ride except for a low,

‘‘ I’m Hyunjin. The leader ‘‘

Then he left you alone, you weren’t sure if he was watching you but it sure felt like his eyes never left you, even when you were turned so that you couldn’t see him in the corner of your eye, the feeling of his gaze lingered.

Not long after, the van came to an abrupt stop throwing you forwards slightly. The doors were slid open revealing the familiar guys from before. Only three of them were in the doorway now though, one shorter one with freckles, the other shorter one with a mean and stern looking face and one that looked like a golden retriever. As you looked at them you wondered how they had ended up here in this gang. They were once normal people just like yourself, what happened to them? Perhaps...they were kidnapped like yourself and they would try to make you one of them?

‘‘ Get out ‘‘ the mean looking one barked at you and then said to Hyunjin ‘‘ We’re here master. Everything is ready ‘‘

The leader reached over again to unbuckle your seatbelt but he wasn’t really looking at you this time, he seemed to be in a hurry. In fact he seemed to be so stressed when you had stepped out that he swept you off your feet. You yelped in surprise but he wasted no time, walking straight away towards the buildings doors.

It looked like it was some kind of abandoned church. It was worn down and dark, covered in graffiti and had several white sheets covering up the window. You shivered at the creepy vibe it gave off, it looked like the perfect place for a gang.

As your group approached the entry doors, two of the guys from before hurried up in front to hold the doors open for Hyunjin and you. You felt him walk again and you tried to turn from your place in his arms to look around. You gasped.

People in masks and dark cloaks stood in a circle around some kind of table. The walls were dirty and worn out just like the outside and the familiar church seats didn’t look very familiar anymore, they were filled with clutter like books and candles. More candles decorated the walls and it had weird drawn symbols in white and red, which looked too much like blood.

You desperately tried to crawl out but his arms clinging onto you only got harder, tightening the grip. You were coming closer and closer to the group who had now turned when they noticed your presence. The group split in the middle, making way for you to pass through. You heart dropped when you had passed by the people.

Right there was an altar. It had old dry blood ingrained in it all over. By how the dried blood looked like it had run down the sides, you thought about how much blood there had to have been there, they probably killed someone and the thought of it makes you sick.

He sat you down unexpectedly gentle and stepped back slightly while looking at you. You felt like there wasn’t a chance in hell to escape with the mob getting ever so closer as the seconds passed, soon they’d be suffocating you although it felt like their mere presence was already doing that.

‘‘ W-what, where am I...Hyunjin ‘‘ you said his name slowly as if trying it out.

His expressions didn’t change, he looked cold like he had done that same night you met him.

‘‘ Y/n, I’ve had my eyes on you for a long time. Planning, waiting for the perfect moment to take you away ‘‘ he explained calmly.

You didn’t say anything but when he said he’d been watching you for a long time you felt chills down your spine again. You didn’t feel safe here and you didn’t know what they wanted.

‘‘ Master decided to save you ‘‘ one of the mob whispered in an almost hysteric voice.

They looked really riled up or quite frankly, crazy - from the way they got closer and closer and how they looked at their leader with so much admiration, like he was some sort of God.

‘‘ Save me? ‘‘ you asked looking straight at Hyunjin to try to read his face.

You thought that maybe they were just joking but he still didn’t move a muscle. He took a deep breath before speaking again.

‘‘ You see, all the people out there they’re really bad people. They have turned to the false God and I’m the only one who can save you ‘‘ he answered fairly casually studying your face and reaction to what he had said.

‘‘ Uh, false God? ‘‘

‘‘ Jesus and his father ‘‘

You huffed. It still felt like a joke but the people surrounding you made you doubt it. Either they were really good actors or this crazy man had taken advantage of vulnerable people and brainwashed them into worshipping him.

‘‘ He’s evil and tries to mask his evil words with acts of ‘‘ kindness ‘‘ ‘’ he air-quoted the word kindness and looked truly annoyed as he explained this to you.

You weren’t really sure how to respond.

‘‘ I...Appreciate that and what you do but I would like to go home now, is that okay? ‘‘ you tried.

‘‘ No ‘‘

Silence followed. You felt like the mob were silently judging you and maybe even hated you because you got all this attention from their precious leader.

‘‘ U-um well I do have to go, I’m not interested sorry ‘‘ you swung your legs over the stone seat and put your feet on the ground below.

He didn’t move from his spot which made you hopeful, but then when you approached the mob expecting them to step aside for you to pass - they didn’t. They stood just as still, just like him. You saw him turn to you and then felt a hard grip around your forearm.

He was angry but you also saw some hint of disgust in his eyes.

‘‘ See everyone how grateful you are that I saved you, see what could’ve become of you. We’ve got a lot of work to do with this one ‘‘ he said to the mob while staring into your eyes. He smirked for a moment and that’s when you realised, this was a cult.

He was fully aware of the truth vs made up things and how he affected all these people but you supposed he liked the power. It made you sick yet again to think about how many lives he had ruined by spewing such nonsense.

His loyal followers all shouted in union,

‘‘ Yes master! ‘‘

Before Hyunjin started to drag you to a doorway at the opposite side of the room. It felt like his grip was getting tighter and tighter and you groaned quietly at the pain, it was sure to leave bruises but you knew he didn’t care - he had probably left a fair amount of bruises on his followers before.

He took you through the doorway and turned to the right. You reached a long stone corridor that felt very creepy. He kept dragging you until he had gotten to the room at the end of the corridor. There, he still kept his iron grip on you while fumbling in his pockets to take out a silver key.

‘‘ This is where you will be staying ‘‘

Anger bubbled up inside you. Who is he to decide that he was gonna ‘’ save you ‘’ to kidnap you and to order you around without you having a choice? It made you feel so belittled, and because of it you hated him already and what made it worse is the fact that you were pretty sure he enjoyed it.

He shoved you in and closed the door behind him swiftly without turning his back to you, smart, he didn’t even give you one opportunity to escape him.

‘‘ Tomorrow will be your first ritual, you should be excited ‘‘ he gave you a small smile.

You wanted to punch him so bad, to kick and scream and to run for your life. The room he had pushed you into was as cold-stoned as the corridor had been, literally. It looked like an old-school prison cell in those castles with stone floor, walls and ceiling. The windows were barred shut and was way too high up for you to reach anyway.

The only thing that made it look anything other than a prison cell was the double bed in the middle of the furthest wall. It had scarlet velvet looking covers and looked quite comfortable. In that moment you wanted nothing more than for him to leave so you could let your growing exhaustion take over you and figure out a plan to escape later after resting.

And so he actually did - to your surprise. You suppose it was because of the look of burning hate you had given him this whole time or that you had refused to answer him but whatever the reason, you felt relieved.

He sighed and left, closing the door rather harshly after him but you didn’t even look at him, he didn’t deserve that.

Your head found the pillow automatically and you let your body relax, falling asleep not that long after.

‘‘ Hello? Y/n get the fuck up ‘‘ the distant voice who had been mumbling, or least that’s what it sounded like to you - suddenly started to get louder and clearer.

You body jerked awake when you realised it wasn’t a dream and the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was those brown eyes of the leader himself. He looked annoyed, like you were just a burden to him and the fact that you’d woken up so late was just another inconvenience.

He rolled his eyes.

‘‘ Finally. We haven’t got all day Ms princess ‘‘

You yawned at looked at him still half-asleep. You got up without protesting though because you didn’t want to anger him any more.

You wasted no time and even got dressed in front of him, ignoring his presence while continuing to be in a dazed and tired state.

He seemed to wait as patiently as he could but that didn’t stop him from sending you glares every now and then.

At last you were ready, dressed in a white plain summery dress that had been put out for you to wear. You noticed while walking up to him that he was now wearing very light coloured clothes as well - a strong contrast to the day before. He didn’t have his piercings on, his tattoos were covered and he wore long white linen clothes. You gagged at the thought of him picking out clothes just so you would match.

‘‘ Come on ‘‘ he mumbled. His patience seemed to be running out.

He opened the door and basically pushed you out in front of him, then he closed the door once again and followed quickly. It felt like he was breathing down your neck, not giving you any space to - you assumed - not make you get away. You ignored him being that close and focused on his directions instead. He told you to go back the same way you had come from and out of the church, into a garden where the ‘’ ceremony ‘’ as he called it would happen.

You stayed silent and walked to where he wanted you to. The church was empty, which was a bit odd but you kept going until you laid your hands on the big doors again and pushed it open.

You recognised the place you had been at yesterday, even the car was still there. But you couldn’t do anything, not even get close to the car before Hyunjin barked his orders,

‘‘ Right. Then walk straight to the garden. No stopping ‘‘ and you reacted like a robot, casting one last sorrowful look at a possible escape route.

You followed his directions and walked into a clearing in the forest the church had been hiding behind itself. The mob was there again.

Of course

You thought yourself and couldn’t stop your hand from forming a fist. More people, less chance of escaping. But where else would they be if not by the side of their precious leader?

They gave you very genuinely happy smiles which freaked you out and you smiled back awkwardly to not feel like you were being rude. As you approached the group Hyunjin put his fingertips to your upper back guiding you forwards, or rather to the middle of the circle again who parted once you got close, allowing you to pass through.

Then you spotted it, another altar.

But this time you weren’t really scared, until Hyunjin told you lay down on it and his words from before rang in your head over and over again,

‘‘ Tomorrow will be your first ritual, you should be excited ‘‘

Fuck

What was going to happen to you now?

‘‘ Welcome everyone ‘’ he started off his speech, turning to the gathered crowd.

‘’ We’ve gathered here today to make a union, to forever bond the master, the greatest, to y/n, the princess ‘‘

Your head was spinning. It felt like the coldness of the stone you were laying on had transferred to your blood, making it ice cold. You weren’t even sure if you were alive anymore or if this was possibly just a dream.

‘‘ Y/n? ‘‘ he suddenly called out which caught your attention.

You turned your head to him, tears threatening to fall any second now.

‘‘ I have to do this, for us to be together forever ‘‘ he said this in an almost pitiful way and your gut knew what was coming but you didn’t want to believe it.

You were going to fight and be optimistic until the last second.

‘‘ You first, then me okay? If you keep still this will be quicker ‘‘ the fact that he looked truly sorry made you forget for a moment what kind of person he was.

He walked up to you and you got so enhanced in his eyes, it was easy to see how all the other people had believed his lies. You were even ready to accept your faith, and so you did the only thing you could - you closed your eyes and waited.

You weren’t sure but you think you heard him say ‘’ good girl ‘’ under his breath. You also heard some distant hushed talking and some items being scraped together but you held you breath and kept your eyes closed, it was for the best.

No closed eyes or deep breaths could’ve prepared you for what came next though,

the pain was unbearable. A cold metal that was sharp penetrated your chest causing you to scream out.

‘‘ Stop! Stop! Stop! ‘‘

Hyunjin hushed you comfortingly and stroke your hair slowly, placing small kisses to your forehead but you barely felt them - the pain was so overpowering it felt like it was the only thing you felt.

Eventually when your breaths started becoming more heavy and your vision started to get blurrier, you opened your eyes one last time. You saw the man you had started to hate in such a short time, now...he was your killer.

Then you closed your eyes again and waited and waited while it felt like the liquid had decorated your entire body, hell maybe even the whole forest.

At last, after much suffering

the world did become black and you were finally at peace.

#yandere #yandere kpop #kpop yandere #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids yandere #kpop #kpopidol #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #hyunjin

116 notes · View notes

ijwrsmff · 3 years

Note

I thought your Kokicbi fluff alphabet was really cute, can you do one for Rantaro? Stay Hydrated!

You stay hydrated as well! Thank you for requesting I hope you like it!

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

He loves to watch movies, so one of his favorite things to do with you is take turns picking which movies you’ll watch! He definitely has favorite movies he’ll have you watch with him, and in return he wants to watch all of your favorites too!

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?)

He likes to look into your eyes. He loves how eyes alone can show so many varying expressions, you’ll catch him often looking into your eyes. Maintain eye contact with him...please.

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack/etc.?)

He’s one of the most comforting beings out there. He’ll have your back, and learn exactly he can help you when you’re feeling down/having a panic attack. Some people need to be touched, some reject touch. He’ll spend enough time with you and have a sit-down about how he can best help you when you’re in one of those moods.

D-Dreams (how do they picture their future with their s/o?)

He wants children eventually, but doesn’t care if it’s from his partner or through adoption. It doesn’t really matter to him, he would love an adopted child just as much as if it was his own. So if you didn’t want to have kids yourself, he would respect that and is completely comfortable with the idea of adopting.

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in their relationship or are they more passive?)

He’s pretty passive, letting you make all the decisions. If it was important, he’d give his input but doesn’t mind if his ideas are shut down.

F-Fight (would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?)

He is rather quick to forgive unless you really crossed a lot of lines. But he doesn’t like to let negative emotions show, so oftentimes you’ll have no idea he’s upset unless he tells you upfront.

G-Gratitude (How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

He’s eternally grateful for you. He says it often, never wanting you to think otherwise. He likes to tell you how much you mean to him. He also makes it obvious by remembering your conversations and bringing up your interests whenever possible. You told him you like x a million years ago? He remembers. And will get you something related to what you like.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

He has some secrets, but he prefers to let you know what he’s thinking. Chances are, if he’s keeping something from you he’ll tell you when he’s ready.

I-Inspiration (Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

You both have each other, he’s your rock and you’re his angel. You saved him in a way, and brought determination back into his life just by your being in it.

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

He doesn’t really get jealous. He trusts you, and knows you wouldn’t do something like cheat on him. He gets concerned if someone is flirting with you, but more because he knows it makes you uncomfortable rather than getting jealous about it.

K-Kiss (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?)

He’s a great kisser. It can be passionate, it can be casual, no matter what kind of kiss it is, he’s good at it. First kiss would be gentle, almost as if he didn't want to hurt you. But after that it would depend on the mood.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

You would have to be friends first, and you would notice on the day he confesses that he’s...hesitant. While he doesn’t want to keep his feelings hidden, he’s worried you won’t receive him well. He would have you over to watch a movie...this time a romantic comedy. Not really something he likes, but he figured it would set the mood to confess. At the end of the movie (of which he never said a word during) he would tell you how he feels. He doesn’t outright say it, but beats around the bush for a while before finally coming out and saying he likes you.

M-Marriage (do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?)

He wants to get married so bad. Please just let him marry you. It’s all he wants. He would propose on a date (dates are pretty common with him, but usually only movie dates. This time it was a restaurant). He would give a long speech about how much you meant to him, and finally get down on one knee and propose. During the marriage...he’s so...happy. He’s always smiling, looking at you and saying “I knew I made the right choice. You’re meant for me.”

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

He adores getting to call you “love”. It shows his feelings in an obvious way, and says it sometimes even if you’re not there, just when he’s thinking about you he calls you love. It puts a smile on his face every time.

O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious to others? How do they express their feelings?)

It’s obvious because he gives a genuine smile a lot. He’s also always holding your hand. In that way, it becomes obvious to others. He likes to express his feelings verbally, always telling you things he loves about you as well as common compliments.

P-PDA (are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?)

He’s not one to brag, but he does like to hold your hand. Near constantly. He gives you kisses in public, he doesn’t really care. But only casual kisses, the more passionate ones are reserved for when it’s just you two.

Q-Quirk (some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship?)

He seems to always know when something’s wrong, sometimes even before you do. It shocks you when he asks if you’re upset when you haven’t outright said anything. He also seems to know when panic attacks are coming and helps you combat them.

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliche or rather creative?)

He can be very romantic. Less so in public, but still romantic nonetheless. He likes to tell jokes just to make you laugh. In his mind, you look even better when you’re laughing. He knows he’d do anything it takes to make sure you can laugh and have fun. He likes to surprise you with your favorite things, or things relating to your favorites. In that way, he can be both cliche or creative. Depending on what you get.

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?)

He believes in you more than he even believes in himself. He would do anything to help you achieve your goals. Just give him the word and he’d help with whatever it is. He swells with pride when you’re actively working on something you’re passionate about.

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice up their relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?)

He usually prefers routine, but every once in a while doing something out of the ordinary is fun for him. As long as it makes you happy...he doesn’t really care what you do together. Though if you ever expressed it would be too much, he’d leave with you immediately.

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

He enjoys getting to know you. Your favorite foods, movies, games, colors, anything big or small he likes to know. He can be very empathetic when it comes to you, which means he can easily play off the positive things. Though...it also means when you’re hurting, he’s hurting too. And he’d do anything to put a smile back on your face.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What’s it worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

He’s always wanted a forever relationship, and he believes that's what the two of you have. As soon as you’re in love...you’re stuck with him. He would admit he’s wrong, even if he knows he isn't. Anything to keep you with him. He values your relationship above most else, the only thing he would consider above you is his relationship with his sister. If she didn’t like you (once he found her) he would try and make it work. But her opinion of you really matters to him.

W-Wild Card (a random fluff headcanon)

He has panic attacks, and always seeks you out when he feels the tug of a panic attack starting. Just being in your presence calms him down. He’ll hold you close and won’t let go until it has passed. Your presence is comforting to him, and even if he’s just feeling down, being by you makes it all better.

X-Xoxo (are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

He can be very touch starved. He loves cuddling, he likes being the big spoon and feeling your back against his chest. Opposingly, he likes to be the little spoon because it makes him feel secure...safe. He gives kisses pretty frequently too, sometimes he’ll even just look at you with this adoring look on his face and lean in for a kiss.

Y-Yearning (how will they cope when they’re missing their partner?)

He lets it be known how much he misses you. He can go for short periods of time, a couple days at most before he’s calling you. If you answer, he’ll keep you on the line all day/night long. If you don’t...he’ll leave a sweet voicemail describing all of his favorite things about you, with jokes in there just so he knows he made you smile.

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for their relationship? If so, what kind of?)

He’s willing to do just about anything for you. You wanna move countries? Sure, let him get his passport. You want to quit your job to pursue your dreams? He’ll get another job so he can provide for the both of you. As long as you’re waiting for him when he comes home he doesn’t care what he has to do. As long as it makes you happy.

#rantaro x reader #rantaro amami x reader #dr3 x reader #danganronpa v3 x reader #x reader

43 notes · View notes

madfantasy · 3 years

Note

Dearest Mani, you are always in my heart and prayers! You're incredibly talented as an artist and a writer (I think you could write a good autobiography, I find your writing both heartbreaking and fascinating), and so strong and persistent! I dreamed of becoming an artist as a kid, but wasn't allowed to study drawing, but when I became a teen nobody could prevent me from learning... but I was too hesitant... with too low self-esteem... so I never learned, alas. Be blessed, my darling!

Oh dear Bianca, thank you so much, bless your heart🫂💛

I always fear when I share about my life that I be a burden.. I have to apologise

I'm sorry you had that experience, I understand at times people think of art as not a rewarding path and maybe discourage people from it, but if its your dream, its yours and it is in you, and you're never late to start if the dream still dwells within the space of your pleased mild unconsciousness and the results shouldn't matter most of the time, the more you do it, the more it be obvious what you can and can't do, and what you want and don't want to do in the vast fields of art~

I honestly have never considered art as something I'd go with, I actually was a mathmatic wiz and enjoyed solving these equations like chewing on sour candy, my mouth frothing at the thought of getting more... and wrestling, its still my second goal..

Art was something I did out of necessity; I wasn't allowed to express much, it was similar to the life style of military (the irony here is my last name means warrior, and alot of distant family were inrolled, including my guardians) it was a life line mechanism your body forcesyou to do, to breath. I didn't think of it, I didn't plan it, I didn't consider it Art, so I always feel because I didn't seek it as art or have sought to learn it properly or have in my possession a sealed certificate of learning it, i can't call myself an artist! (But that continuesly was proven wrong as I became more and more involved in it)

And the amount of resistance I got towards me drawing equalled me stubbornly drawing even more. It was as if I was involved in the dark arts, which it was to my family, my teachers, my peers— everyone. It was a reason for them to crush me, but it didn't crush the urge to draw non stop.

I remember as a kid they let me cuz its child's play, and was aware of all those adults saying to my guardians, oh Mani's art is amazing but you know what to do when they grow up. They beat the freak out of me every time they caught me doing it. So my choices became draw while they are asleep ( or my own sleep time under the covers) or at work. Second place is at school, I was taking every pause possibility to draw like I'm possessed to, while decently acing school. I mean I literally did my homework and everything at school so I don't have to do anything home but draw.

Inevitably I was found out at school, even tho I was and still a very quiet shy kid, and I try to hide my art anyway possible whilst drawing. Evey time the consequences were either of those two: utter humiliation, or a praise with guilt.

They praised me saying its amazing but I can't do that, and to please stop it. Or just being silently fascinated by it and taking it without telling me its good so they "won't encourage me"

The humiliation was me pointed out as what not to do to the whole class, and telling me I'm going to hell when I die and be forced to try and make those creations I made come to life, seeing that I could not, be tortured with alot of graphically disturbing description of fire and burns. First when I was 7 years old. I remember standing too in a line in front of the whole school at queue as the "shameful" students line, watching some of my peers cry and me just standing there just struggling not to laugh. Cuz idk

Other time peers snatching my art from me and running around with it and calling me names, and such, and it takes a bit more than rough housing by me to get it back. Often school calling home and getting my share of beating from there too.

I remember the biggest humiliation I got is by a freaking art teacher snatching my mouths stocked folder thanks to the stupidity of a peer I didn't even allow to share my art with leaving it wide open for the teacher to see. They took it, questioned my classmates as to how the frk nobody reported my art to the admin or whatever. And if they were okay with the horrors I make. They were heh.

But didn't stop the admin from basicly spreading that and assuming that i am crazy and need psychological help. Which made more hard beatings at home hearing that in the phone call they made.

I eventually fell out from school because of continuing decline financial situation and my mental stability. The cycle didn't end, guardians never stopped killing me over it, destroying my art, threatening, the whole work— till I got commissioned for the very first time. Like only few years ago. They let off seeing now it brings money..

Till this day they don't know what I draw thanks to switching digitally nd speaking English. Also they don't have the health to go around snooping in my stuff anymore right around the time too

The bottom line is, I don't know how everything just fell into place, into being an artist rather than it being a choice to make.. still carrying those shackles of always get those flashes of being hurt by it, regretting posting and drawing always and feeling its never good enough or not being something acceptable or sought-after. But on the flip side, it's the embodiment of freedom, it's the most accomplished, happy, fulfilled, humaaaaann I ever be while practising it.

What you love and will be will happen no matter what and how long...

I'm sorry for more sad dibble about my life..

I am happy today; I just wore like passes as a boy trouble maker here and my guardians were laughing and hyping me to go out on the streets and make some trouble. The exact intention hehe. And I wanted to share but can't do that publicly but posted on my ko-fi hehe

Leaving u with sev wip , and all my love 💛🌟

#ask #mybianca112 #my art #severus snape #drawing journey #nonbinary pride #personal

84 notes · View notes

fakeloveaskblog · 3 years

Note

Hi Logan, how do I even start? Save this number, if you want to. I have been supporting Remy through texts for a bit. They have revealed to me some very troubling things in the past. Things like, their boyfriend kicking their cane from under them as a ‘joke’? Those kinds of things.

Virgil, that's his name by the way, also kind of yells at them a lot at times, and tells them they're worthless except for the use he can give to their body and that nobody else will ever love them. They believe they are horrible. They believe they deserve it. They appear to think their disability makes them only a burden to him and nothing else and while I have tried to convince them to the contrary I honestly don't believe I can when they're still trapped by choice in such a toxic environment.

I have tried to help and give them the tools to better their self-esteem and combat that, and send them nice text messages in general, but that hasn't helped in anything more than a superficial level. If you can do something, anything, or could take their case to someone who can something, I'd really appreciate that.

(Words: 2088)

(Talk of U!Virgil)

Logan: "That is...That is" He took a moment to gather himself "That is even worse than I had estimated"

"This must have been happening the other times we met them too right? And we didn't notice anything. We should have- we-" Patty mumbled out. Her voice was shaky.

She had just gotten home half an hour ago or so, she wasn't even fully out of her cosplay makeup. Logan had immediately pulled her into a hug which wasn't uncommon but he'd held onto her so hard it hurt and he’d been close to collapsing into the hug.

All it took was her asking if he was alright for him to tell her everything. He couldn't keep a secret from her even if he tried.

Now they sat in the couch. Logan had his head leaned on her chest and she had moved her arms around his waist. All they'd eaten was some of the leftover pie from Lo's date a few days ago because both of them were far too worked up to even think about cooking.

Patty pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to think "Okay well if they're being emotionally abused as what we know suggest then...I..is there even anyone we can contact that could help. I mean there's no- there's no evidence right? Or well- it's just- it's their word against Virgil's and if they won't even say Virgil is abusing them then there's nothing!"

"We can kidnap them" Logan pointed out.

"That we can"

Logan sighed “Do you think talking to them would even make a difference? They seem to already hate me so now it’s even less likely that they’ll listen”

“Well honey you can always try. They go to the same therapist as Janus right? So you can just casually ‘run into them’ right?” She gave him a loving kiss “I know my lil smarty-sweetheart can help them”

He sent her a tired smile “I’ll try”

Remy wasn’t as upset from the therapy session as they usually were. It had mostly been discussing how they felt about maybe being poly. They still thought they deserved a smoke break afterwards though so now they sat on bench right outside the entrance, they were on their third cigarette.

They had their head leaned against the back of the bench and was looking up at the greying sky and falling leaves so they didn’t notice when Logan sat down. He kept his distance to not startle them but cleared his throat to get their attention.

“Are you also waiting for someone?” He asked.

They glanced over to him “Girl go fuck yourself with a rake”

“Noted. I will put it in my calender. I for one am here to pick up Janus after his therapy is over for the day. Mayhaps I will show him some more star trek”

“Okay great gal. Then I’m just like waiting for Remus I guess” They pressed the cigarette into their leather jacket to put it out so they could leave as soon as they saw their cru- friend.

Logan inched closer “Is your bruise healing well?”

“Just ‘cause we’re in the same place doesn’t mean we have to talk to each other!” They snapped back.

“Exscuse me, I was simply worried about your physical health”

They rolled their eyes and crossed their arms before mumbling out “It’s fine. It’s whatever. I haven’t done it again so like forget it”

“I am relieved to hear that”

Silence fell over them. Remy refused to look at him. Logan tried to figure out what was the best way to ask them about Virgil.

“....Your boyfriend did not insult you once you came home right?” He asked them in such a soft tone as if any slight wrong saying would make them implode on themself.

“Girl there you go again with your stupid fucking bullshit. I don’t wanna like talk about it!....Not ‘cause anything happened but ‘cause I hate you! You don’t- we don’t- we’re not friends! Why are you just like forcing yourself in on my private life! It’s like- it’s like fucking stalking!”

Logan reached out his hand to comfort them but quickly stopped himself “I am sorry. I don’t know how to best formulate this but I sincerely don’t mean to upset you like, neither do I know how to not upset you. All I know is that I want you to be okay and that if my partner treated me like yours seem to do I wouldn’t be able to stay”

Remy’s hair fell in front of their face as they leant their head in their plams “You don’t get it” They muttered.

“I am sure I don-”

“IT’S NOT THAT FUCKING EASY! It’s not like I have any savings an-and I’m not able to keep a job and without Virgil I have no way to buy medicine and- Like do you just want me to walk out and become homeless and like starve to death? Is that it? Like even if I wanted to leave, which I don’t, It’s not like I have a choice!”

A quiet sniffle came from them. Logan gave them a moment to gather their breathe.

“I...I didn’t mean to make it sound like leaving was easy” Logan murmured “I understand that you have probably been forced to think like you have no choice but to stay. I am aware of how crippling manipulation like that can be”

He leaned closer and even though they didn’t look at him he still sent them his most caring look as he continued.

“But I promise you that there are other options. You aren’t stuck. I am willing to let you stay at my apartment for however long you need and if you aren’t comfortable with that I am sure Janus or Remus would let you stay as well. I can even pay for a motel if that would be better. Depending on what part of your disability is making you unable to work I am sure that could be fixed. For example a wheelchair could help! My point is that you do have a choice, even if it’s very understandably hard to think that”

Remy’s shoulders were shaking. Logan gently placed his hand on top of their bony shoulder. Every vein was visible through their light skin.

At just the hint of his touch they flinched away. They stumbled up from the bench and took a few steps away. They looked at him with reddened eyes.

“No. No. Girl you- you just don’t get it! That’s all!” They spat out, their voice was shaky as well “You haven’t like lived with me. Once you or Remus o-or anyone spends enough time with me you’ll realize what an annoying overemotional burden I am! An-and then I’ll get thrown out! Okay!? So-so it’s not really- I don’t actually have a choice ‘cause I’ll just get thrown out. Virgil is the only who will ever bother to deal with me for this long! ‘cause he loves me! And no one else will love me like he does. S-so just shut up!”

Logan stood up as well and took an unsure step towards them. They looked so weak, as if a single push from the wind would make them crumble.

“It’s okay. I hear what you are saying” Logan assured.

“An-and it’s like- Virgil needs me! And I need him! That’s like how it works! I can’t just leave him! What if- who will calm him down from his panic attacks?! And if I leave what if he gets s-so upset and like anxious he hurts himself! He’s said there was a chance he would!! I can’t risk it! I have to stay! He needs me! I-I need- I can’t- I can’t leave”

Logan nodded along “It’s okay. I understand. I understand”

“You don’t! You’re a idiotic bitch! I hope all your stupid fucking ties get destroyed in the washer!” Remy was close to yelling.

“Harsh but I see your point. To be honest everything you have said has made me even more worried. From my experience a relationship shouldn’t make you feel this way! It shouldn’t make you come up with reasons to stay! It shouldn’t hurt you!” Logan reached out to comfort them once more. “I promise it shouldn’t hurt”

“It’s not hurting me! YOU are hurting me!”

Logan was taken aback. He didn’t know what to say. His arms moved to hang helplessly along his sides. Remy opened their mouth to say something more but then

“Hey uh what’s going on? Are you roleplaying a death match?” Remus stood in the entrance to the building. He glanced between the two of them.

“This idiot is trying to destroy my relationship!” Remy exclaimed.

“While it is not my place to explain the full situation without their permission I can assure you that I am merely worrying for their mental and physical health and I am unsure if their relationship is good for them from what I’ve heard” Logan explained.

Remus barely even hesitated before moving in front of Remy. He moved his arms out and let them lean against him to catch their breathe, like he was a human shield protecting them from Logan.

Logan hadn’t seen Remus angry before and he didn’t look fully enraged, but there was a hint of anger in eyes as he sneered at him.

“Well I’m sorry Loganson but not every relationship is totally perfect and works without any arguments like you and your wife relationship apparently does!” He spat out.

“I can assure you that me and my wife’s relationship hasn’t been argument free but that doesn’t mean I have ever even thought about insulting her like Remy’s boyfriend seemingly ha-”

“You’re not Remy!” Remus snapped “You’re a guy who dresses like a 40 year old math teacher who is losing the children in the divorce! Leave them alone!”

Remy was bordering on cowering behind Remus. Their whole body seemed to shake as a few tears spilled down their cheeks. They met Logan’s eyes.

“If the bullshit you’re saying is true, which it like isn’t but if it was that- that means I’ve spent my whole life being abused” They forced out through tears “How can you Ever you expect me to live with that?”

Logan didn’t have an answer to that. He watched on as Remus placed his hands on Remy’s shoulders and gently guided them to turn away. He bonked their foreheads together and wiped their tears away.

“C’mon beanie-boo I can take you to the amusement park to cheer you up! Or we can find some lsd and get high so you can hallucinate beating the shit out of the stinky Log guy!” Remus exclaimed as they walked away.

A headache began to form in Logan’s head as he slumped back down on the bench. He stared out at the nearly empty parking lot. He didn’t understand what he did wrong.

He wished he could talk to Virgil. He wished he could see him eye to eye and chew him out for ever making Remy feel like a burden, for ever making them feel trapped. A part of him wanted to punch him.

He was so zoned out into the overthinking he didn’t realize how much time was passing until Janus got out from his therapy session. As soon as Jan saw his boyfriend he let up into a shining smile and hurried over to him.

“Hi dear! Aww did you miss me so much you had to come pick me up! How charming!” Janus hesitated before kissing Logan on the lips. It still made him all giggly.

Normally seeing him so giddy would have made Logan overabundant with happiness....but now all he could think about was if he should tell Janus about Remy’s situation or not. They were friends right? Could it help? Would they listen to their friend?

Logan’s head hurt so bad. None of it made sense. There was no logical answer. How Janus reacted could make everything worse. He didn’t want to ruin everything more than he already had.

“Darling? Are you feeling alright? Has something happened?” Janus asked while taking his hand.

“I....I....” Logan looked over to you.

Logan: “I am so sorry to do this but do you have any idea what to do? The human emotion and it’s reactions are so illogical I don’t- I don’t understand- I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry- Should I tell Janus about the suspected abuse or should I lie?”

#mini fic #or like a really long answer #logan sanders #remy sanders #sanders sides

11 notes · View notes

tigerdrop · 3 years

Note

hey i just wanna say the long posts genuinely make my day. also can you talk more about gordon freeman character because the way you write him makes me quake in my gay little boots

i would love to talk about gordon freeman. thank u for the opportunity

the first thing i need to communicate about gordon is that this dude sucks. and i say this in the fondest way possible. he is a bitch from the moment he drops into the world until the moment he goes out. if you dont believe me, give it another watch! gordons mouthy and rude for no real reason, at least so far as “being a regular dude on his way into work” goes, and this dude goes around calling his coworkers names with zero provocation. (of course, we all know that the reason is because its a funny guy improv stream that borrows a bit from freemans mind, but im talkin from a character sense.)

but my argument isnt just that gordon freeman sucks. its that he sucks in a very specific way that i find insanely endearing. i love this dude. i love to hate him. hes awful in a very mundane sense - weve all known a guy like this, at least if youve spent too much time online - and its cathartic to watch him suffer because of it.

gordons a smart guy. as written, hes gotta be - hes a recent MIT grad, on his way to work at a top-secret research facility to do weird shit with crystals and theoretical physics. but the thing about smart guys is that theyre often......selectively intelligent. we can see this in the way that he has a hard time navigating his surroundings, and needs the science crew to guide him through it and keep him alive.

this is one of those things that is a natural consequence of somebody going through the game for the first time, but that i am interpreting as “gordon is kind of stupid sometimes”. its uncharitable but its not like he doesnt deserve it. he likes to boss around the crew as if he knows what hes doing, when he often very much does not, and is fond of demeaning their intelligence. hes real bad about this with tommy in particular, treating him like hes a kid whos playing at being a scientist when tommy is actually a decade older than him. all i am saying is that gordon ought to stay humble. hes awful cocky when he perceives himself as better than others.

which, i think, tracks with how cocky he gets when he gives up on the whole “well-meaning citizen” thing and just unloads bullets into people. he puts up a front of being a Nice Guy, you know, just some dude caught in a bad situation who doesnt like seeing his companions obliterate every NPC they come across, but that doesnt stop him from cackling like a fucking madman and mowing down aliens (and soldiers) every once in awhile. when he stops seeing himself as helpless and starts seeing himself as the one in control, the gloves come off. he gets mean. and i think thats very sexy of him

this, among other things, is why i am insistent that gordon freeman is a control freak. he desperately wants to be in control of the situation at all times, shepherding around the science crew primarily by bitching at them, but its of limited success. its futile. sisyphean. tommy, coomer, bubby, and benrey exist almost to torment him with exactly the thing that would make him suffer the most: a gaggle of people running around causing problems for him, but he cant go anywhere without them b/c hes reliant on them to make it out alive.

its perpetual suffering, and its cathartic to watch. and funny, too. and if youre a little weirdo like me, its very, very enjoyable. how twisted up he gets when nobodys listening to him! how sweaty and frazzled he must look. its cute, and it also makes me want to reach through the screen and shake him and tell him to just be a little nicer. he wants control but he doesnt know how to attain it, he doesnt know how to play nice like a real leader. i think its a neat contrast to gordon freeman as we know him in HL2, where he literally is the leader of the resistance and has to live up to it. this is gordon freeman but if he was moe through helplessness.

“helpless” is, i think, a great way to describe him. a core bit of imagery in half life is this sense of railroadedness and helplessness, with gordon freeman being put into play like a chess piece and having no choice but to move forward. and this iteration of gordon leans into that by being totally dependent on the science crew in order to make progress and Not Die. and hes also subject to the whims of benrey, local eldritch weirdo who has basically made it his life mission to fuck with gordon.

gordons anxieties dont help with that. if he wasnt so fun to stress out and fuck with, the science crew probably wouldnt do it so much! too bad for him that they like fucking with him so much that he was driven into a panic attack (multiple times, even, depending on your interpretation). hes got that real neurotic mindset. always worrying about shit that could go wrong, and attempting to exert control over his surroundings in an effort to control the anxiety.

IMO the real way to nail the Neurotic Gordon Freeman Experience is to combine the ever-present anxiety with his pervasive sense of self-loathing. he openly states that he has no friends and nobody seems to like him, and to that, i really gotta say, i wonder why. he doesnt really seem to factor in that hes kind of a bitch, and has way too high an estimation of his own intelligence relative to everybody elses. its really one of the worst ways to be: aware that people dont like you, but unaware of exactly why. if he was like, 10% nicer, he probably wouldnt have had half as many issues getting through black mesa, but also, its funny to see him squawking his way through the game. so, you know.

its stuff like that that makes me headcanon him as a dude with low self-esteem in general. convinced that hes not likable, not attractive, out of his element......impostor syndrome, except that theres some truth to it. this is a guy who truly does not realize how good he has it: he really is just an average shitty dude, and yet, somehow, benrey took a shine to him. some poor motherfucker out there actually likes him and wants to suck his dick. thats dedication

also, i keep bringing up “repression” when i talk about gordon. and hopefully, what ive been talking about helps explain why. he has a strong desire to be a regular dude, not just murdering his way through black mesa, but if hes pushed hard enough he leans into it. gets bossy. picks up a cigar off a dead soldier and takes a long drag, before smacking forzen around with a pistol and ordering him around. gordon freeman is a regular, kind of anxious guy who likes competitive swimming and streaming on justin.tv and making anime references, and he is also a guy who takes a filthy pleasure in making a trained soldier his bitch. and i didnt make up any of this shit - this is purestrain canon, baby. this is a guy with problems

to me, this screams the kind of guy who represses a lot of shit b/c he doesnt feel like its morally decent. you run into this guy a lot online: the wokeboy, the online leftist, the guy who spends too much time on social media websites. (like reddit. i think he would actively use reddit and he would never get any appreciable amount of karma but he never stops posting. its sisyphean! cathartic.) from the way he talks about “bootboys”, i think it tracks. he knows about imperialism, he knows about feminism, but at the end of the day hes your average american white dude who struggles with internalizing it.

a lot of those dudes struggle with sex and gender issues. (dont we all.) when youre trying to be a Good Person(tm), you spend a lot of time thinking about your own relationship to sex and kink and all that shit. and i maintain that a too-online dude who buries a lot of his control freak tendencies would also try to bury a lot of weird sexual shit in an attempt to seem Normal and Well-Adjusted and not like a little freak. i justify this by the sheer number of times gordon blurts out weird sex shit as a joke. there are only two outcomes to making that many piss jokes: either youre secretly a piss guy, or you lathe-of-heaven yourself into becoming one. i will stand by this

ive talked a lot about why this dude sucks. now, let me talk to you about what makes gordon so much fun to write. first things first: hes funny! a subjective evaluation, yeah, but both in- and out-of-character, hes aiming to be funny. and being the straight man to everybody else plays into that whole “helplessness” thing.

secondly: underneath it all, there is a good dude under there. gordon worries when his companions get hurt, he tries to clean them off and patch them up, and hes got his lil leftist heart in the right place. you could even read a lot of his bossy, bitchy demeanor as him wanting to make sure everyone gets out okay and doesnt hurt themselves. when it comes to animals and anti-imperialist sentiment, gordons a pretty good guy.

hes the kind of guy who would probably see a dog on the street and get excited and play with it, but would get really prickly about the correct way to put dishes in the dishwasher. control freak tendencies.

finally, subjecting such a miserable, tormented guy to even more psychological anguish is really, really fun. you feel a little bad for him, but he kind of deserves it. so many problems he goes through are purely of his own making, and if gordon would just relax and quit trying to hard to maintain control - of himself, of the people around him - and own up to having Problems and Issues, he would be a happier guy. but thats why its fun to bend him until he breaks. being a little control freak myself, putting gordon freeman thru psychosexual torment is cathartic.

when it comes to writing his thought processes, the fact that he is canonically some kind of psychotic (yes, i am boldly claiming this. suck me) and i am also canonically some kind of psychotic makes it easier to write what i think his thought processes are. i just give him my brain issues of “getting lost in thought” and “overthinking fucking everything”. a touch of paranoia helps. even if i dont explicitly label him as schizophrenic please know that i am writing him as a paranoid little nutcase at all times because, uh, you write what you know.

paranoid. anxious. of the mindset that everyones out to get him (which isnt helpful when everyone is out to get him). repressed and deeply Not Normal but trying so very fucking hard to be normal and well-adjusted. a control freak with sadistic tendencies who also really, really likes getting bullied by his best frenemy. a hapless little nerd who sounds really cute when his voice starts to break from nerves. and, most importantly, a dumb jock. do not ever forget this.

thats gordon freeman, babey. hope that helps

#asky #careposting

43 notes · View notes

bts-ficrecs · 4 years

Text

Namjoon angst fic recs (no smut)

@ephyra16 asked:

Hey...! Your blog is of so much help to me, thank you for all the hard work you do... I wanted to ask if you know any long Namjoon oneshots or series which mostly have angst but no smut...? Namjoon centered fics are really hard to find. Thanks!!

yes hello for some reason tumblr hates me and idk why everything gets wonky when i try to answer asks so i’m making a new post <3

1) as a jin stan i feel u. is hard to find fics for our mans but that just means when we find one we devour it and cherish it 4 ever lol

2) jsdflajsd you might have more luck asking someone else for straight up angst cause i can barely stomach angst LOL. I tried my best to find some heart breaky fics for you! :”) A majority of these I have not yet read so we will both be riding the emo train together.

As you requested, most of the oneshots are long fics, over 5k but! There are several honorable mentions under 5k are also listed cause they’re great

Thank you for your patience and I’m glad you’re enjoying the fics I reblog! :D so many great stories out there. as always, if there’s a fic that any of you readers think should be on this list lmk!! 🧡🧡 Enjoy!~

A Little Bit Of Sugar by @lthyl

Summary: Namjoon is well aware that some, well actually most people could find his hobby not exactly common, yet he still considers himself to be a man of tasteful words and higher intellect - someone who managed to understand the true, deepest meaning of beauty itself. And so he doesn’t really care if his methods of collecting pretty things end up being darker that expected, once you peek under the surface.

Almost Love by @joonary

Summary: You think you’ve got your life all figured out—after all, you found your soulmate already, and you’re lucky enough to have found him in your childhood best friend. You suppose that maybe, now that you’re older, your luck has begun to run out.

Better To Have Loved by @rkivenamu

Summary: Love, Namjoon had found, wormed its way though people, consumed them whole until it left nothing of the people they had once been. It became a weapon to be used to wound the other. Love, it seemed, was the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

Bloom by @hobidreams

Summary: Family is who you kill for. Who you die for. In this society, you and your kin are shadows, clinging to the darkness to obey orders absolute. But when such orders command you to abandon what little honor remains for wealth and notoriety, you find yourself lost in lonely uncertainty about the only vocation you’ve ever known. That is, until you meet a man with gentle hands, a poet’s heart, and a love for coaxing the world into bloom.

Note: okay, this has smut (there are 2 smut scenes) but… it is too good for me to not add to this list

Breathless by @personawife

Summary: Jungkook was eleven when it had begun. At first, he didn’t realize what was happening to him when he had miraculously coughed up a flower petal. He thought that maybe it had accidentally blown into his mouth with the wind, but then he realized that there were no cherry blossom trees around his house.

Pairing: Namjoon x Jungkook

Catching Fire by @namjoonchronicles

Summary: “If you didn’t want to go, then you should have told me. I wouldn’t have taken you here.”

Cut by @chimchimsauce (>5k)

Summary: Namjoon always hated soulmates.

Chasing Perfection by @shuaffeine-rkive

Summary: Kim Namjoon is the only kid in AP Bio that is smarter than me, and I will make it a point to destroy his perfect record.

Emancipated by @imagniation

Summary: CEO!Namjoon is a hero time and time again when your father takes the villain role.

Five Times by @lordofassgard

Summary: Five times you wished you never met Namjoon.

Sequel (of sorts): Part 2 - Namjoon's POV

For All the Petals by @rosaetae (>5k)

Summary: A story in which you met him in the spring, fell in love with him in the summer, but he left you in autumn and how you missed him in the winter.

Forget Me Not by @fairyjeons

Summary: She fell apart that day. An all white day with crowds of adoring friends and family to see them make the most happiest decisions of their lives, to choose to be together. She chose yes. He chose different.

Ghost In The Machine by @jimlingss

Summary: Kim Namjoon is your android that’s modified to become the best serial killer in all of existence. But when he starts to learn about humanity, he begins to threaten your goals.

God of Destruction by @jimlingss

Summary: Everything he touches breaks; except for you.

Jealous by @btssmutgalore (>5k)

Summary: Namjoon remembered the day you left clearly.

Lit Me Up by @floralseokjin

Summary: You find yourself becoming captivated by a mysterious, handsome author, but you may have bitten off more than you can chew…

No Goodbye by @floralseokjin (>5k)

Summary: Even if you’re the one who ended things, you can still feel pain. Your heartbreak is valid. Your sadness for the past is a grieving process…

Noble Gain and Loss by @jaeminlore (>5k)

Summary: You are a person of nobility preparing with your tutor for your royal debut. The two of you fall into a forbidden love.

Not The One by @personawife (>5k)

Summary: Maybe you should’ve realized early on then, that something was bound to go wrong. Meeting your soulmate at sixteen and living happily ever after? No one’s that lucky. But you refused to believe anything else.

Paracosm by @jimlingss (>5k)

Summary: Namjoon’s always known he was your second choice. He was a substitute for someone who wasn’t there. So when you’re on your deathbed, he intends to reconstruct your memories and remove your regrets.

Press Play by @out-of-jams

Summary: You didn’t mean to. Didn’t intend to fall in love with a dying man.

Submerged by @myfeelsinink

Summary: Kim Namjoon is the man of your dreams; or rather, from your dreams.

Suspended Soul by @justimajin

Summary: A silver ring, a live long promise, and an eternity of happiness. All of which, he had managed to break.

The what Ifs by @ellieljade (>5k)

Summary: You would be able to handle the relationship between Namjoon and your best friend if it weren’t for all those damned “what ifs”

Wishf-oo-l by @sseudanym (>5k)

Summary: To fulfill a good man’s bad dream.

Worshipers of the Soul by @jimlingss

Summary: The King of the Underworld was denounced and exiled from Heaven as a god. But with your help, he may rise to power once more and claim his rightful throne.

You’ve Got That by @mikrksmos

Summary: After making a life-changing decision for your career, you’re unsure of how exactly to bring it up to your boyfriend after your relationship and communication has not really been in sync. Namjoon is ready to take this relationship to the next stage, and he is sure that what he needs to ask you will be the solution to all the problems you have been having. Both know this next move is the right idea, but are unaware of how parallel those ideas really are.

Confirm Or Deny by @dinoyoongi

Status: complete series (6/6)

Summary: You’re a member of the rising group FRNZEE. You’ve been dating Namjoon for years when Dispatch releases an article exposing your relationship. Your company confirms the relationship. Big Hit denies it.

Deeper than Ink by @whoajeon

Status: discontinued series (2/?)

Summary: Should you fall in love with someone, even in the slightest, your skin becomes marked with vibrant colors that depict the story of your emotions. A tattoo, per say. However, should they or you fall out of love, the bright hues dull to black and the feelings you once had for each other melt away. To many, it’s a blessing to not have to live with the pain of your past. But what’s the point when you have too many reminders–say 27?

His Deaf Stars by @jooneos

Status: discontinued series (1/?)

Summary: When Namjoon turned 20 he had been excited to finally find his soulmate. He hadn’t anticipated that finding them would prove to be such a long journey. Now, more than 500 years later Namjoon still hadn’t found them.

Note: ok, yes it’s discontinued and only 1 part is up but still… please read it. It’s an interesting read regardless!

Inked by @kookswife

Status: complete series (6/6)

Summary: The day Namjoon entered your life was the day you were a bit more than utterly fucked.

Monster by @wordycerty

Status: ongoing series (1/?)

Summary: Namjoon as a vampire and you’re locked in a basement with him. For you to escape, he first needs to feed.

Noble Heart by @agustkive

Status: ongoing series (1/?)

Summary: Unrequited love can destroy anyone, and in a society where it could literally do so, it made it difficult to want anything more. Being among the population with Hanahaki disease, you battled with doing what you loved without actually feeling it. That is, until a new florist by the name of Kim Namjoon came into your life to remind you of what it actually felt like.

Reality by @thoughtssilent

Status: ongoing series (11/12)

Summary: Namjoon can’t deal with himself anymore, and to make things worse, BTS is disbanding.

Pairing: Namjoon x OT7

Regrets by @nightbts

Status: complete series (3/3)

Summary: When his eyes met yours, you felt your heart squeeze in your chest at the familiar brown eyes that you once used to know at the back of your hand. The very ones you’d wake up to every morning. The very ones that would gaze at you with so much affection as the words I love you spilled past his mouth during the most random moments of your day. It was him, your ex-boyfriend, the very Kim Namjoon.

Solanacea by @softjeon

Status: complete series (10/10)

Summary: There was something between them that neither could deny. It was like this from the first day they had met.

Pairing: Namjoon x Jimin

The Heiress’ Son by @jimlingss

Status: complete series (3/3)

Summary: Love is never enough. It could never feed you, protect you, stop death from taking you. It chains you down. It compels forgiveness unconditionally. It is dangerous. While it is the most intense of feelings, love is not enough and it will never be. Love never helped anyone.

What If I Said by @thoughtssilent

Status: complete series (3/3)

Summary: If no one is there for him, Namjoon won't be there for them. Or, a collection of sad stories.

Pairing: Namjoon x OT7

#namjoon angst #namjoon fanfic #bts fic recs #rm angst #bts angst #ephyra16 #g recs #g replies #f:knj

207 notes · View notes

horrorhot-line · 4 years

Note

Do you have any writing tips Coz i rlly like your writing ❤😭

This one took a while to answer because of how much I had to say. (Please keep in mind that I am in no way telling you to follow these tips, take whatever you think will work for you and discard what doesn't, okay?)

Alright, first things first, I've been writing on and off for the past seven years, and I can say for a fact that I've definitely improved since my first fic (which was on paper, we don't talk about it). The following tips are what works for me, and what I believe has helped me become better at writing.

Remember, fanfiction is supposed to be self-indulgent, and therefore you are entitled to write whatever you like because it's your work, so you don’t have to follow any of these tips if you don’t feel like it.

Proofreading, making sense & grammar

Grammar and punctuation make a huge difference. You could have an amazing story, but bad grammar can make that piece of work flop. Stories are supposed to be immersive, but if there are too many mistakes or the words don't make sense, it can ruin it for a reader. (I don't mean your garden variety missing letters, I mean something like 'an he and her goes and u were like oh no'.) I can't name the amount of time I've started to read something online and ditched it because the grammar irks me (your instead of you're, their instead of they're and so on). I've seen a lot of fanfiction writers also switch between past tense, present tense and future tense in the same paragraph, which makes it hard to understand what's happening.

If you're trying to post and have it get attention, please do check your work to make sure it makes sense. Write down everything first, don't correct anything, and once you're done writing the scene, go back to proofread the whole thing. Get someone to read it for you and point out mistakes or things that don't make sense, if you can.

If you can't, then there are alternatives. There's 'text to speech', where you can copy and paste what you've written down onto a website, and it will read the text out loud to you. It works the best (for me anyway). There's also grammarly, which is kind of similar to google docs except it points out all the mistakes you may have in your work. (Bear in mind a few mistakes don't matter, but if there's too many then it's likely that your post or blog won't get much attention.) This tip helps you to get a lot of likes on your writing.

Research

If you're writing fanfiction, please study the character(s). My biggest pet peeve when I read fanfiction, is that the love interest is out of character. Whether it be the way they talk or the way they act, if it isn't close to canon, I cannot read it.

So, if you're trying to gain traction and have your work get a lot of positive feedback or likes, then it's best to do research. Most fictional characters have wiki pages where their personalities, relationships and life stories are listed, so why not make the most of it? It's all there for the taking. When writing for a character, rewatch the show/movie to get a good grasp of their personality and then begin to write. The more canon your writing is, the more people will enjoy it.

Reader Inserts

Ever come across an x reader where there's way too much description about their appearance? (Specified hair colour, hair length, named family members etc.) I once read a reader insert where the author described the reader as someone who had pale skin, blue eyes and blonde hair... I was like, huh? That's not what I look like :')

When you specify or go into details about 'reader's' appearance, it will most likely ruin the mental image your readers have in their heads already. I feel like when one tries to write a story or oneshot with a reader, they should be as vague as possible. There's no need to specify the height, or the reader's dream job or names of family members, or outfit choice- that's up to the people that are reading your stuff to work out. Leave it to their imagination. (This doesn't apply to requests made by others for specific character traits or appearances.)

Write believable characters

If your work has a reader insert or original characters, please make them believable. You don't want to write characters that are 2D and have little to no depth. Please don't make them perfect, that takes the fun out of things and makes your character somewhat boring. You don’t want to write a character that your readers find it hard to care about, so even if you were to kill them, the readers wouldn’t care.

Make them real, with real problems and a factor of relatability. Heck, give them toxic/bad personality traits while you're at it. Easily irritable, overly sensitive, cynical, selfish, manipulative, people pleaser- the list is endless (we all have our flaws, no?). Contrary to what others may believe, this will make your character easy to relate to or understand, and more people will like your work that way. (this links to my next tip btw)

Mary Sues

I've seen this a lot in the fanfiction community, and oh god, does it make me cringe (this is because of personal preference, though). Mary sues, if you aren't aware, are perfect characters that have no faults. They don't make mistakes, and everyone loves them even if they do nothing. They are basically the perfect hero/heroine, and that makes them boring. My biggest pet peeves are mary sues in fanfiction author's works, (but, this is because I can't stand perfect and over-powered characters that everyone seems to fall for at first sight).

Fair enough if the entire story is self-indulgent, I'm not here to bash others over personal preferences (this is just how I feel on the matter), but that also means that you take the risk of your work flopping for that sole reason. Your work might not get any traction or positive feedback because it is overly indulgent.

Don't make your original character or reader insert a mary sue. Throw hurdles and hardships at them, let them make huge mistakes and learn from them, let them mature. Let them have flaws, let them win over the love interest slowly, instead of having the two fall in love instantly.

Use the right inspiration for romantic relationships

Please for the love of god do not use toxic relationships as your inspiration for the romance you write into your story. 'After' by Anna Todd comes to mind first, as it is a good example of a romance written horribly. If you don't know already, then it's a Harry Styles wattpad fanfiction that got popular and was published, with two movie adaptations out already, (with more on the way)- the classic good girl falls for bad boy cliche.

So, what's so wrong with 'After'? For one, the male interest is toxic as hell. Anger management issues, substance abuse, trash personality, the list goes on. What does the female interest to about it? Absolutely nothing. She lets him walk all over her and forgives him for it every time.

Please don't use stories like this as a basis for what the romance in your work is like. Relationships where one abuses the other, whether it be mentally, physically or verbally are wrong and shouldn't be glorified nor romanticised. Relationships are supposed to be healthy, and shouldn't tear the people in it, apart. Use the right inspiration, there's plenty out there.

Writing chemistry between characters

For me, I use inspiration where ever I can find it. Movies, animes, books, real life, you name it. Observe the different types of media around you. How do friends interact with each other? How is it different from childhood friends and family friends? How is it different to lovers? I watch Netflix shows/movies in my free time, mostly romance- and yes, it is for research purposes. From there, I take a particular interaction or scene and get to thinking. If the characters from my works were in that situation, how would they react?

Ever watched a movie or a show and thought to yourself, 'Wow, the interactions are so awkward'? That's mostly because the script is forced, and that's the last thing you want to write like. Chemistry, whether it be platonic or romantic, should be natural. The best way for you to do this is by thinking about how characters would interact and letting it come naturally to you.

Don't rush it

You have all the time in the world to write chemistry between characters. Why rush it? Slow burns hit the hardest and a lot of people like them. What I mean to say is, please for the love of god, don't let the characters in your work meet and then immediately fall in love.

The countless amount of times I've sighed in frustration because I've decided to read a story and the first chapter they meet, the second they're already a thing and the third they get married? (This is an exaggeration, but you know what I mean.) What? Why? The time between realising feelings and officially dating should at least take a month, so write with that in mind. (This tip doesn't apply to one-shots.)

Narration

I’ve seen authors skip out on explaining where the story takes place and give the bare minimum when it comes to details, and have realised that it makes it very hard for the reader to understand what’s happening. When there’s barely any context, the story is no longer immersive and is less enjoyable.

Focus on describing the settings. There should be more description than dialogue. The weather, the surrounding, if there are people near or not, smells, sounds, etc. This will help the reader visualise what's happening, and will make it more enjoyable all around. The surroundings should be included in your story to make it more interesting and to keep the reader hooked. I've seen authors do this in their fanfiction and my god, when it's done right, it is so beautiful.

The first paragraph

This is a tip I've only recently started to use. You should always start the first paragraph off with something interesting. It's gotta be eye-catching. This makes sure that the reader doesn't click off of your work before you get to the good bits. There are a lot of writers who start their stories off with the classic 'I woke up in the morning to the alarm clock sounding,' and it is the absolute worst because it's the most overused cliche I've ever seen.

Reading about someone waking up isn't interesting unless it's important to the story. For example, you can start off with a character waking up, if they're sick, 'I jolted awake only to immediately groan at the headache I was hit with. I moved to massage the bridge of my nose, to ease my pain, somewhat. It was then that I realised I was covered in a thin layer of sweat. Breathing in through my nose, I kicked the covers off of myself in an attempt to try and cool down. Turning my head and coughing into my pillow, I wondered if it was even worth it to get up.'

Internal monologues

Internal monologues give character to the person you're writing about and also gives the reader a good idea of what they're like. They also make your story better as a whole and can prove to lengthen it a bit more. Sprinkle them in where you see fit.

For example, 'The school day dragged on. You gazed at the clock yet again- why did it feel as if the hand on it hadn't moved? You should have stayed home. What was the point of this again? You could be spending your time doing something better. You suppressed the urge to yawn as the teacher droned on about how to calculate frequencies and wavelengths.'

Read

I mean this. When you're not writing, read, and do it like it's a job. Find a good book or a fanfiction that's well written, and take note of things the author has done that you think, 'Oh! That's worded beautifully.' This will help you expand your vocabulary, provide you with inspiration and overall will improve your writing.

hope this helps 💞💞💞💞

#anon ask #ask response #writing tips

21 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 8 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: ayo fam!!!! thank u so so sososo much for reading and sending love, it makes my heart HAPPY! i apologise in advance for this chapter…….a Lot goes on. wouldn’t be much of a rollercoaster if it was flat would it!! hope u will all still like me afterwards xoxo

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

31st October 2020

“Ready, baby?”

“Always.”

Vanessa smiles at Brooke from her position on the platform she’s standing on. Brooke has an identical one beside her, a huge purple structure with a phone box drilled into it that’s strong and has definitely been checked by the health and safety experts at least six times. Looking down, the ballroom floor looks ever so slightly too far away, but Vanessa knows that’s just her eyes playing tricks on her. She knows that when the music starts and the time comes, she’ll jump off it without any problems. As the band continue to set up she picks at her skirt, all messy netting and tulle. Vanessa supposes she’s never seen a fashionable zombie.

Halloween week has crept up on her- she’s honestly been too wrapped up in her own thoughts to notice the passage of time. Instead of seconds, minutes and hours her days are now measured in dance steps, quick glugs of her water bottle in rehearsals, how many times Brooke flirts with her that day. Ever since last week they haven’t seemed to be able to stop flirting. They always seem to be laughing or smiling at each other, casually hugging or holding hands mid-rehearsal like it’s natural. It’s not, though, and Vanessa knows it’s only a matter of time before her feelings become unravelled. She can’t figure Brooke out yet, and she knows that there’s a chance she’s acting this way because she’s more comfortable with Vanessa, maybe that’s how she acts around all her friends. But still…she doesn’t know. She knows she’s not going to risk ruining anything, though, and she’s definitely not going to risk anything going wrong with their partnership after they scored 32 on Saturday for their Salsa, favourable comments pouring out of the judges’ mouths like water out of a jug. Laganja had stood up from her seat at the table and actually screamed when Michelle asked her what she’d thought, babbling about how hot and sizzling and perfect it all was.

“At one point I thought you two were gonna kiss!” she’d screeched, and the audience had all laughed. Vanessa had wanted to tell her that she hadn’t been that far from the truth.

Their Salsa actually got higher marks than Jan and Jackie’s, which had put a spring in Vanessa’s step. The goal had been to showcase her and Brooke’s chemistry, and Vanessa feels like they definitely did that. It gets harder not to compare themselves to other couples though, especially when there’s only nine of them left now. Aja and Farrah are out of the competition after a dance-off with Willam and Phi Phi last week, so now that the strong have well and truly been separated from the weak things are coming very much down to the wire. Even Heidi and Vixen and Shea and Peppermint’s scores haven’t been all that favourable lately. Vanessa shifts on top of the platform. Dress rehearsal is usually fun but she’s overthinking things now and making herself nervous. She gives herself a little shake, looks at Brooke for a reassuring smile she knows will come. She can’t let Brooke know she’s feeling anxious. Their dance is, overall, quite an easy one- it’s their couples choice week, so naturally Vanessa has chosen Commercial as their genre, never one to shy away from the chance to behave like she’s in a music video. She knows it still needs to be sharp and synchronised, neither of them missing a beat. They’ve done similar in their Jive, so all they really need to do is transfer the same skills into this dance.

“Ready to go in three!” a producer shouts. Vanessa takes a deep breath and steadies herself, taking her position inside the phone box. From across the ballroom floor she can see Brooke doing the same.

A hush falls over the girls that are watching in the audience, the drumsticks click, and the song begins.

“Calling all the monsters, calling all the monsters…”

Vanessa pops her hip as she acts out a conversation with Brooke, putting the phone down and stepping out of the booth as soon as the beat kicks in. She puts her hands to her heart and pulses them, getting ready to launch herself off the platform the moment she hears her cue.

“Heart thumps and you jump…”

Vanessa jumps, flying through the air-

And the moment she hits the ground she knows something’s not right. She feels her leg give out, a pop, and searing pain shooting through her calf. She’s fallen to the floor and every fibre of her body is screaming at her to get up; she’s the professional, and what kind of professional is she if she can’t carry on after a small mistake? The music is still going so she drags herself onto her knees, attempts to stand up. The whole dance is thrown off now. Fuck. When she puts her foot on the floor and tries to stand it’s too painful- she can’t do it. She can see some of the girls in the audience standing up, yelling, gesturing to producers and runners.

Brooke runs over to her and the music stops. Vanessa’s on her back and she’s drawn her leg up to her chest. She can hear Brooke asking if she’s okay and the concern in her voice, can feel her stroking her hair and holding her hand, and usually this would’ve warmed her heart and made her feel all soft inside but the pain is overwhelming and it’s all she can focus on. She’s embarrassed and aware of how weak she must look in front of the other girls- she’ll have just landed on her ankle funny, there won’t be any more to it than that.

“I’m fine…it’s fine…” Vanessa protests, embarrassed at the amount of people now surrounding her. She’s got Brooke, a runner, a producer, and now someone from first aid. She tries to stand up again and is annoyed when everyone reacts much the same as if she’s pointed a gun at them, telling her to lie back down and fussing over her. All Vanessa can do is stare up at the ceiling and look at the rigging while the woman from first aid pokes and prods and massages her calf, the filters and lights all bright and overwhelming above her. Her gaze snaps away from the ceiling to rest on Brooke’s face. She’s wearing a troubled expression, little lines deep set into her forehead and her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. Vanessa hates seeing her look this worried and she’s horrified that it’s she herself that’s made her feel this way.

“Brookie, don’t worry,” Vanessa musters up a smile for her. Brooke blinks, and when she looks at her again Vanessa can see tears in her eyes. Vanessa carries on, squeezes her hand. “They’ll stick a bit of ice on this an’ then I’ll be ready to dance with you tonight, you’ll see.”

She watches Brooke take a deep breath, nod at her supportively. Vanessa isn’t lying- she truly believes in what she’s saying. She’ll be fine. It’ll just be a rolled ankle, nothing too serious. She panics, though, when she sees two runners with the studio’s stretcher, moving through the audience seating.

“That ain’t for me. Surely not.”

The producer is telling her it’s just a precaution, but it’s a precaution that’s made Vanessa’s worry spike. They roll her onto it, and Brooke doesn’t let go of her hand. The first aid woman is telling her she can’t go with them. Vanessa scowls, feels the anger build in her gut.

“But I want her there. She’s my partner,” she snaps. She’s never mean to anyone she works with, always goes out of her way to be kind, reassuring and understanding, but all she wants is to have Brooke by her side because everything is starting to sink in now and she’s scared. First aid insists there’s no way, and Vanessa lets out a frustrated sigh that’s too close to a growl.

“What should I do?” Brooke asks her, worry etched on her face. Vanessa gives her hand one last squeeze before the stretcher is hoisted off the ground.

“Practise. Just practise. Make sure you’re ready for me,” Vanessa winks at Brooke in a vague attempt at reassurance then suddenly she’s being carried away from her, away from the ballroom and the glitter and colour and into an off-white room with strobe lights and a brown examination bed. She’s transferred onto the bed and left there for a small while, the silence in the room almost crushing her.

What the fuck has she managed to do?

It’s crazy, but her only thought is Brooke. What will happen to her? Will she get given a bye, will she be taken out of the competition? Will she get a new partner? The thought creeps into Vanessa’s brain and lodges itself there like a tick. Vanessa wants to shake it out but it won’t budge. If her first year competing with a celebrity is ruined by her stupid fucking leg…

She squeezes her eyes tight shut. Maybe this is all a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time. When she opens her eyes she is still in the same room as before. Fuck. She looks down at her calf and mutters the same word as she sees how much it has swollen up underneath the grey tights she’s got on.

Soon enough, a producer enters the room with someone Vanessa doesn’t recognise. It turns out they’ve called in a doctor. Her dance shoes and tights are peeled off and after much poking and prodding, the doctor steps away and fixes Vanessa with a sympathetic smile.

“Okay, my love, I’d usually take you in for an ultrasound but from what I can see I’m confident that what this looks like is a grade two level torn calf muscle.”

Vanessa wants to be sick.

“What that means is that you’re going to need lots of rest, lots of ice and compression. Try to elevate it wherever possible. The producers are going to make sure you get a follow-up appointment to get it looked at so you know when you’ll be able to get back to dancing.”

Vanessa frowns. She refuses to believe it. They’ve not come out and said she can’t dance. Maybe if she does the dance just once tonight she can rest it next week. “But I’m dancing tonight, I…Brooke needs me-”

The doctor is smiling at her like she’s a child and it does nothing for Vanessa’s blood pressure. “I’m really sorry, love, there’s no way you can dance on this. For at least a week, but that’s in the best case. Sometimes torn muscles can take six weeks to-”

“No. No, no, no, no,” Vanessa blurts out. She can feel the tears in her eyes; they’ve sprung up out of nowhere but all she can hear ringing in her ears is six weeks. The final is six weeks away. She needs to be better. It can’t take that long. “I need to be here, I can’t withdraw, I need to…Brooke Lynn…”

She is reduced to crying on an examination table with a doctor and one of the producers simply watching her. The doctor hands her a tissue, clearly feeling guilty. “Look, it really just depends on how well you look after it. It would probably take six weeks if you were trying to dance on it immediately again! As long as you’re sensible and take care, your recovery time will be much less.”

This does nothing to reassure her. Vanessa fixes her eyes on the producer. “What’s gonna happen?”

He scratches his neck and shrugs. “Well, we’ll offer Brooke a bye for this week. We’ll need to give her a new partner though. Just temporarily, until you’re better.”

Vanessa pouts, feels herself whine like a baby. “This is so unfair.”

“I know. I’m sorry. S’pose this comes with the territory, though, doesn’t it? Injuries…dancing,” he rambles on. Vanessa wants him to leave. Vanessa wants them both to leave. She wants to be on her own. She just wants a big, therapeutic cry with nobody there to watch her. Vanessa communicates this to the two of them and they both nod understandingly before leaving. A runner comes in with some ice for Vanessa’s leg and some pillows to elevate it, and they disappear equally rapidly.

Vanessa tries to think rationally, but no rational thought comes. All she can keep thinking is six weeks, six weeks, six weeks. It feels like her Strictly journey is over already. She knows she’s being selfish, knows that it’s Brooke’s journey. She should be happy for her- she’ll still get a partner, she’ll still get to continue and succeed.

But it should have been her.

The tears are still streaming down Vanessa’s face when there’s a shy knock at the door. It’s Brooke Lynn, and she’s still in costume but she’s had her hair and makeup done as well. There’s prosthetic chunks of blood and gore all over her and her skin is painted all grey and decaying, but Brooke still looks beautiful to her.

“Hey, boo,” Vanessa gives her a soft smile, frantically wipes the tears away from her face. She feels silly. “Get it? ‘Cuz it’s Halloween.”

Brooke laughs a little, entering the room and coming straight over to the bed to give Vanessa a hug. Vanessa can’t describe how much better she feels in Brooke’s arms, how much easier everything suddenly is.

“How are you, baby?” Brooke asks her mid-hug, and Vanessa can feel her murmur against her neck. It’s nice.

“I tore my calf…they told me I gotta rest up, it might take six weeks to heal…fuck, Brooke, I’m so sorry…”

Vanessa feels herself start to cry again as she clings onto Brooke like a koala, and Brooke hugs her even tighter in response. “Don’t be ridiculous! It won’t take that long at all. Torn muscles are so common, think about how many people must tear things in dancing! You’ll be fine. Hey. No more crying.”

Vanessa obediently wipes the tears away from under her eyes as she pulls away and gives Brooke a smile. Brooke meets and mirrors it, then leans in and kisses Vanessa gently on the forehead. When she pulls away again she seems shy as she laces their hands together. Vanessa is gazing gently at her. She’s never been closer to telling Brooke…

And then it sinks in all over again that Brooke is in full costume. And she’s had her makeup and hair done. Why would that have happened if she had taken the bye this week?

Vanessa frowns a little, confused. “So, uh. They give you a bye?”

Brooke nods. “They offered me one. Or they said I could dance it but with one of the other pros, so I said I’d just do that.”

“Oh,” Vanessa says before she can stop herself. Brooke’s words manage to hurt her even more than her leg already is.

“What’s wrong?”

“No, nothing. Of course you wanna dance it. You need to, you worked so hard on it,” Vanessa says quickly. Of course Brooke wants to do the dance. She’s on a competitive TV dancing show, what the hell else was she going to do? Did Vanessa really think she was going to turn around and say no? She tries to squash the feeling of being slowly eaten up inside. “So, uh. You’re dancing it. Who with?”

Vanessa’s heart sinks. Please don’t be-

“Plastique. She’s in makeup now. She was literally the first pro the producers grabbed; she walked past as we were having the conversation and they just asked her if she would do it. Had to teach her the whole thing in like, 45 minutes. You would’ve been proud of me.”

Of fucking course she’s dancing with her. Of course. Vanessa can still remember the way Plastique had looked at Brooke across the room on induction day, all interested and intrigued. Vanessa doesn’t want to be dramatic but this has to be up there with one of the worst days of her life. She can see Brooke looking at her and waiting for a response, so Vanessa just smiles tightly. She doesn’t trust herself to speak; she’ll either say something she’ll regret or she’ll simply cry.

“I know you probably just want to get home, but you could stay and watch in the green room? Blair and Scarlet have come to visit to watch Toni and Yvie. You could sit with them!” Brooke encourages her. Vanessa wants to say no- there is nothing she wants less than to watch Brooke dancing with someone else, especially if that someone else is Plastique, but Brooke’s expression is so hopeful and pleading that Vanessa just quietly nods.

“Amazing! I promise I won’t let you down,” she beams at her. There’s a producer shouting for her in the corridor so with that, Brooke gives Vanessa another hug and Vanessa wishes her good luck.

She’s gone, and so is a part of Vanessa.

But she’s said she’ll stay and watch her so Vanessa takes her ice and pillows and hobbles through to the green room, finds Blair and Scarlet sitting on the big sofa in front of the TV screen. They’re equal parts excited and sad to see Vanessa, fussing over her and her leg and distracting her with stories about life post-Strictly. Blair has been contacted by some up-and-coming makeup company looking to make her the face of their brand, and Scarlet’s been filming in between meeting up with Yvie for dates. It turns out the both of them had made connections with some of the girls, as Blair’s here for Vixen who she’s been texting non-stop since she left the show. Vanessa finds it odd the amount of things that have managed to go on right under her nose only for her not to notice, but she supposes she isn’t surprised given how up in the clouds her head’s been over Brooke.

The show begins. They prerecorded the pro dance this week, and it’s weird for Vanessa to watch herself dance across the screen. The whole thing is weird, really. She shouldn’t be watching the show at all. She should be on it, she should be there, live, dancing. The pro dance ends and Michelle comes out to introduce the judges and the couples. Before they all come down the stairs, she explains why Vanessa won’t be on the show that night. Hearing her say that she won’t be dancing makes her tear up all over again. Blair pats her shoulder and Scarlet squeezes her hand in support. Vanessa thinks she might cut off Scarlet’s blood circulation the moment she sees Brooke descend the stairs with Plastique, the two of them holding hands, waving to the audience and smiling at each other gently.

Vanessa’s got ages to wait until she can see Brooke dance and she spends every second stressing and fretting and worrying. She wants to be at home, to just go to sleep and wake up when her leg’s better and she can go back to dancing with her beautiful celebrity partner. Instead she’s here in a green room with a melting bag of ice under her leg watching Willam struggle through a Paso Doble, with a girl on either side of her wittering on about the object of their affections. So when it cuts to a VT that the editors have obviously hastily scraped together of Plastique gushing about how much she’s looking forward to dancing with Brooke and Brooke talking about how she’s nervous to dance with somebody new, Vanessa sits up straight on the sofa.

“Dancing the Creepy Commercial for their couples’ choice…Brooke Lynn Bites, and Plast-eek Tiara!”

Normally she’d crack at least a small smile at the ridiculous puns that get used for Halloween week, but Vanessa can’t draw her eyes away from the screen. There’s the both of them, and Plastique on her plinth, bevelling in her phone booth, about to dance with her partner.

The dance begins and Vanessa is on tenterhooks. The pair of them spring off their plinths, land perfectly and continue with the dance. Brooke is hitting every beat so well and it makes Vanessa proud, but there’s a point where Plastique freaks out beside her, doing something that entirely wasn’t choreographed. She’s obviously forgotten the dance. Vanessa bites her nails as she watches Brooke gently guide her into the next section and they pick it up from there. When the dance finishes, the audience lets out rapturous applause. Three of the judges are on their feet.

Vanessa feels like crying all over again.

The only saving grace is that Brooke hasn’t given Plastique the same kiss she normally reserves for Vanessa. She can hear Plastique apologising to her as they hug, and Vanessa grows irritated. This doesn’t ease up when they receive their comments and the judges give the pair of them glowing praise. And then they get their scores.

“Seven!”

“Nine!”

They’re the highest scores Brooke’s ever received, and she got them while dancing with Plastique.

Vanessa feels like storming off home but she can’t, not with her damn leg being the way it is, so she goes to chill in makeup for a while. The team there are nice- they’ll chat to her, take her mind off things, and they certainly won’t be as loved-up as Scarlet and Blair seem to be. She needs to not be around loved-up people right now. So it’s fitting, so fitting for the day she’s having, that the moment she walks into makeup there’s Jan sitting getting her foundation re-applied after her Jive with Jackie, who’s sitting on one of the couches having already finished her touch-ups. The pair of them are singing along to the song playing softly over the speakers, and neither of them notice her at first until she gives a hiss of pain, her knee not liking all the movement.

“Oh! Vanessa!” Jackie exclaims, sympathy in her kind eyes. “How’re you doing, babe?”

Vanessa doesn’t miss the way Jan’s eyes snap open involuntarily at the pet name, the makeup artists cursing and the eyeshadow brush creating a white glitter spot against Jan’s orbital bone. The cogs turn quickly in her brain- if Plastique and Brooke have just finished their dance, it’s likely they’ll be heading to makeup soon too. Vanessa’s not petty, but she’s only human; Brooke has made her jealous, and it wouldn’t be fair if she didn’t return the favour.

“Not great,” Vanessa pouts, sitting on the sofa beside her. “It’s really fuckin’ sore. Great job out there, though. You both killed it.”

“We did our best,” Jackie shrugs bashfully. Their Jive was a little undermarked this week- they’re all at the stage where anything under 30 is disappointing- so Vanessa knows a good tactic to get Jackie onside is to stroke her ego.

“Well, your best was amazing. Don’t beat yourself up,” she smiles at her, resting her hand on top of hers and patting it. She thinks Jackie might be blushing, but she’s honestly not sure (the green paint she’s got on in her witch costume makes it impossible to tell). Vanessa hams it up, hisses excessively in pain and grabs her calf. Jackie’s face twists into a concerned frown.

“Hey, have you ever had Reiki done before?” she asks. Vanessa shakes her head. Jackie perks up, clearly excited about whatever the fuck Reiki is. “I’m trained in it! I used to get it done so often and I loved it, so then I took a course and it’s what I did before I got into journalism. My parents said it wasn’t a real job, but…whatever, basically it’s energy healing transferred through palms. It can help with mental health or physical health. I could do some for you now, if you want! It might help things.”

Vanessa raises her eyebrows, nods a little. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll try anything at this point, they’re sayin’ this bitch could take up to six weeks to heal.”

Jackie tuts and motions for Vanesssa to put her leg up onto her lap. “Six weeks? No way. We’ve got to get you better for Brooke Lynn! Where’s it sore?”

Vanessa rubs the offending area on her calf and Jackie nods understandingly. She rubs her palms together to warm them up, places them both lightly against Vanessa’s bare calf. She leaves them there for a few moments before turning to Vanessa questioningly. “Any better?”

“A little, yeah!” Vanessa lies. Jan’s almost finished up in the makeup chair now and she can see her looking at the pair of them suspiciously.

“Jacks!” she calls over to her. Jackie looks up, smiles expectantly. She doesn’t take her hands off Vanessa’s leg. “Did costume not want to see you about that hem?”

“Oh shit, of course! Thanks, baby,” Jackie beams at her, then smiles apologetically at Vanessa. “Sorry, ‘Ness. I hope that helped, anyway! If you ever want more done, just hit me up anytime!”

“I will. Thanks, Jackie,” she smiles back. She’s a little annoyed that Brooke didn’t even come into makeup when her impromptu jealousy plan was put into place. Vanessa doesn’t have too much time to think about that, though, as Jan’s approaching her from the other side of the room, a fake smile on her face.

“Hey, Jan.”

“Hey, V!” she begins, the cheer injected into her tone but not quite meeting her eyes. “Uh…what was that all about?”

“What was what? Oh, that?” Vanessa frowns, looking at the doorway Jackie’s just disappeared out of. “Yeah, Jackie does Reiki apparently. Fuck knows what it is, but she wanted to try it out on me, so…”

“Um, cool!” Jan smiles, fiddling with the hem of her fluffy white dress a little awkwardly. “Hey would you mind, um…I mean…it was just kind of weird. That’s all. I don’t really appreciate you doing all that in front of me, you know?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Vanessa snorts a laugh. Then the penny well and truly drops- obviously the rumours about Jan and Jackie aren’t rumours at all. They’re facts. Jan rolls her eyes at her, laughs sardonically.

“Oh my God, have you been living under a rock? I thought me and Jackie were like, the worst kept secret of the season,” she gestures, as if everything had been so obvious. Vanessa supposes it was obvious, but she kind of has been living under a rock. Jan’s face drops in response to her blank expression. “Oh. You really didn’t know.”

“No.”

“Right.”

“Well, uh…” Vanessa begins. She shrugs. “Sorry, I guess.”

“No, it’s fine!” Jan backtracks kindly, visibly relieved. “I was just worried, you know, and obviously with you and Brooke Lynn…”

Vanessa screws her face up, confused. “Wait, what?”

Jan mirrors her facial expression. “Are you two not…?”

Vanessa puts two and two together and gets one million. She blushes furiously, can already feel her face hot. “Oh, uh…no. No we’re not…there’s nothing happening there.”

“Fuck, I am so sorry,” Jan grimaces, embarrassed. “I just assumed- you’re so close, and you’re always flirting, and near each other, and…”

Vanessa watches as Jan trails off. They’ve both managed to completely embarrass themselves, and Vanessa is about to open her mouth and mercifully end the conversation for the pair of them but Jan gets there first. “Guess I should go make sure Jackie isn’t Reiki-ing half of the damn costume department, huh?”

She gives a weak laugh which Vanessa politely joins in with. Before she leaves, she flashes her a smile.

“For the record, though-” Jan leans down to squeeze her hand, winks at her. “- you two would make an awesome couple.”

Jan’s turned her back and is leaving before Vanessa can even respond. She doesn’t even know what she’d say, truth be told. Her head is too packed, and she’s full of too many emotions. Vanessa decides she’s had enough of Elstree for one night, and she hobbles out of makeup and orders an Uber to take her home.

She’s half-asleep and tossing and turning in bed with her leg propped up on too many cushions when Brooke texts at roughly one in the morning.

B: Hey omg so sorry I didn’t text til now, tonight was just crazy! So sorry I never got to see you before you left but totally understandable, hope you’re feeling better? Idk if you got to see our dance or not but we got 34!!! Highest ever!!! Wish I could’ve been doing it with you but hope I made you proud. Sending loads of love xxx

The text should make Vanessa happy, make her feel reassured and warm and cared for, but all she can take from it is that Brooke had been too busy with Plastique to text her earlier, she hadn’t come to seek Vanessa out after her dance, and those high scores just twist the knife. Vanessa knows Brooke won’t have meant it like that but she’s still down about it, and she turns her phone over without replying and tries to get some sleep.

A new week comes after a day spent with her leg in a bucket of icy water, and Vanessa spends it sitting on the studio floor with her leg elevated and wondering why she’s there. Saturday night brought a shock of a dance-off- Yvie and Jaida against Shea and Peppermint- and in the end it had been the latter of the two couples that had to bow out when everyone was least expecting it. As a result, everyone is working even harder to make their dances perfect and stay in the competition. Vanessa watches Brooke rehearse with Plastique, watches them laugh together and hold each other and smile at each other. It’s been agreed that Plastique would choreograph their dance this week and Vanessa would attend rehearsals in case she was better and ready to dance it by Saturday. But she’s not taking any of it in, none of the steps, none of the twirls, because of course it’s their Viennese Waltz week and of course Plastique has picked the most emotional, heart-wrenching song to do it do, and as the pair of them glide across the floor with their bodies pressed together in hold Vanessa closes her eyes and listens to the lyrics and feels the tears bubble up under her eyelids with very little reason behind them.

“So it goes…one foot after the other, til black and white begins to colour in…”

But there is a reason. The reason is that Vanessa has connected with Brooke Lynn more than she’s connected with anyone else since Kameron, she knows her body without them even having so much as kissed, her heart lights up whenever Brooke smiles at her or flirts with her or even so much as texts her and she likes her, really fucking likes her, but now that’s all been thrown into a tailspin and as Brooke and Plastique gaze at each other while they dance, and as the music continues to play Vanessa feels as if her heart’s being ripped in two. She’s been distant with Brooke this week, damage limitation. Instead of laughing uproariously at her jokes she gives a small smile, instead of launching enthusiastically into conversation with her if she asks her a question she keeps her answers to a sentence and doesn’t follow up. There haven’t been any moments where it’s been just the two of them this week and she feels worse off for it. At times she can see Brooke looking at her with concern in her eyes, wondering if there’s something wrong, wondering if she’s done something to hurt or offend her.

She hasn’t, and that’s the worst part.

It gets to Saturday night again and Vanessa stays home to watch the show. She could’ve gone into the studios and sat in the audience, should’ve done so, but she couldn’t bring herself to see everything being danced out live in front of her and not be able to join in. She’s also seen Plastique and Brooke dance through their Viennese so often together that she doesn’t think she can face it live, in their dresses and full makeup and hair with the lighting and the band. She doesn’t know what she was expecting but watching them dance it on screen hurts equally as much, the camera focusing on the soft gazes they give each other and the way Brooke holds Plastique tight.

“I’ll bow out of place, to save you some space…for somebody new…”

Vanessa would’ve laughed at the irony of it all if she wasn’t so upset. She’s only got herself to blame. The fact she’s developed feelings for Brooke is ridiculous; she’s a walking cliché, developing a crush on your partner is like the Strictly equivalent of crushing on your roommate- it’s such a massive don’t, one that’ll only end in tears. When Vanessa thinks of all the couples that’ve come from the show, though- Shea and Sasha, one of the old dancers, Roberta, and that newsreader Alexis- it makes her feel a little bit bitter that she and Brooke didn’t work out. She supposes she’s giving up before she starts. She doesn’t really know her chance with Brooke is over, she shouldn’t give up, but as the judges’ comments drift into her stream of consciousness and she hears Kennedy complimenting Brooke and Plastique on “what amazing chemistry you both have together, so obvious and heartwarming!” she nearly throws the remote through the TV. She sends a text to the group chat she shares with Akeria and Monique, even though she knows they won’t receive it til after the show. Vanessa is sure they’re both fed up of hearing her mope about Brooke Lynn (they’ve had to put up with sad texts all week), but they’re cheaper than a therapist, so Vanessa hits send anyway.

V: this is so UNFAIR why do i need to watch Kennedy telling B and Plastique that they’re basically meant to be together???? :(((((((

A reply comes back from Akeria instantly. Vanessa supposes she’s just danced, having gone before the pair of them, and has got her phone while she gets her makeup retouched.

A: stop wallowing and just tell her how you feel already xo

But there’s no way Vanessa’s going to do that, not after the week she’s had and certainly not as she watches the TV and realises that Brooke and Plastique’s Viennese Waltz has earned them a score of 35. Brooke’s scores keep improving with Plastique as her partner. Maybe she’s just a better teacher than she is. She’s about to switch the TV off and have a self-indulgent cry (even though she should really keep the TV on so she can watch Monique’s dance and be a good friend) when her name makes her shoot her eyes up from her phone to the TV screen. Brooke’s looking into the camera.

“Vanessa, babe- I know she’s watching at home- that one was for you! Get better soon so we can dance together again, okay?”

Vanessa’s heart instantly jackknifes into the air. Brooke was dancing that for her, she wants to dance with her again, she called her babe on national television and oh my God the papers will have a field day with that but Vanessa doesn’t even care. She needed that validation and reassurance so badly. Looking down at her phone again, she opens up her messages with Brooke and is typing before she knows it.

V: dedicating that dance to me was real sweet of you. you did so well, i’m so proud of you, you’re killing it. seeing doctor tomorrow so will let you know how I get on. sorry i’ve been a lil distant this week xxx

When Vanessa wakes up the next day the reply is simply a series of love heart emojis, which both lifts her spirits and disappoints her. She can’t overthink for too long, though, as she’s got two messages from Monique that’re sitting unread as well.

M: fyi- Willam and Heidi danceoff, Heidi left xx

Vanessa frowns, disappointed. She got on really well with Heidi in her time on the show, and she kept everyone in stitches in dress rehearsals by whistling through her teeth (which drove the producers mad). Vanessa will miss her. She turns her attention to the next message, which has a blue link pasted into it.

M: also ur bae’s caused quite the stir with that cute lil pet name she used last night 👀

Vanessa frowns, feels herself blush as she clicks the link. It opens up on a Daily Mail article with the title, “Strictly 2020 star Brooke Lynn Hytes causes Strictly curse speculation” and Vanessa feels her stomach give a dip. The article talks about the shoutout Brooke gave her last night, the selfies and videos they both have posted on Instagram of their rehearsals. It also recaps the entire Kameron situation, at which point Vanessa clicks off the article. She texts Monique back and tells her to shut up, but the article has done nothing to lower the hopes she’s already got raised so high.

Vanessa tries to put all that out of her mind as she makes her way to her doctor’s appointment in the late November afternoon. The weather is cold and drizzly, and it’s dark outside even though it’s only four o’clock. She’s nervous and she’s desperately hoping they’ll tell her she can dance again. Vanessa has hardly moved all week, her calf resembles a vacuum-packed piece of meat with the compression bandages she’s used, and she’s sure that her leg is still so numb from the constant ice that she could get a six-inch needle shoved into her leg and wouldn’t feel a single thing. Her heart is in her mouth as the doctor rubs gel on her leg and runs the ultrasound scanner over it. The smile she gets in return sends her pulse racing in anticipation and hope.

“Well, it’s good news! You’re healing really well. This is the quickest I’ve seen a tear like this heal in a while, you must’ve done everything by the book!”

Vanessa wants to laugh. Her doctor doesn’t know the half of it. “So am I good to dance again?”

The doctor gives her another smile. “Since these pictures are looking so promising, I’m going to say yes.”

Vanessa wants to scream and cry all at the same time. It’s the happiest she’s been all week.

“But don’t overdo it! You don’t want to go flying back to square one. Take it easy for as long as you can. Don’t go high-kicking into any splits or whatever you dancers do.”

Vanessa frantically promises her doctor that she’ll take it as easy as is physically possible, promises herself internally that she’ll just mark everything for the majority of the week because she’ll take what she can get.

Six weeks? Kiss my ass.

She would’ve skipped out of the doctor’s surgery but that would’ve broken every promise she’s just made, so instead she walks calmly as she makes her way to the pro rehearsal and texts Brooke frantically.

V: i got the all clear to dance again!!!!!! see ya Monday!!!! Xxx

A reply comes back almost instantly that makes Vanessa way too happy.

B: !!!!!!!!!!!! The BEST news!!!!! So excited to see you xxx

It’s embarrassing but Vanessa almost wants to hold her phone to her chest like a lovestruck idiot. She is a lovestruck idiot. Her good mood is made even better by the cheer she gets when she arrives at rehearsal, the dancers all running to hug her and welcome her back. As Vanessa gently warms up and joins in with learning the group dance (marking it all and resolving to only perform it properly on Saturday), she can almost feel her heart singing. The only thing she’s missed more than Brooke is the dancing, and she’s so glad she gets to do what she loves best in the world again.

She doesn’t think her day can get any better, that is until rehearsal ends.

Jan and Jaida are the first girls to leave and they open the door, greet somebody, then turn immediately back into the room, their faces scheming.

“Vanessa?” Jaida shouts over to her, a little twinkle in her eye. “You gotta visitor.”

Vanessa’s confused and she’s pulling her jumper over her head so she can’t really see. It’s only when the other girls file out of the room and it’s completely empty that the visitor in question comes in, and Vanessa’s heart stops at what she sees.

It’s Brooke, and she’s holding a huge bouquet of flowers. Vanessa doesn’t quite know how to react- she knows she’s gone shy and red, and she doesn’t even want to assume the flowers are for her because that would really Mean Something if they were and God, the way Brooke is smiling at her, all nervous and reserved, is giving her way too many butterflies.

“Hey,” Brooke greets her, her voice all quiet. Vanessa laughs out of sheer relief of just being able to have her all to herself again, and she rushes forward to hug her. Brooke accepts gladly, and the two of them stand with their arms around each other and Vanessa holds her tightly as if to convey how much she’s missed her. They break the hug but they don’t let go, and they stay in each others’ arms as they talk.

“How come you’re here?” Vanessa asks her, her smile entirely too big and too happy but she can’t in any way help it. Brooke tucks some hair behind her ear then returns her hand to her waist.

“I wanted to see you,” Brooke shrugs. Vanessa’s heart inflates so much it almost pops, an overfilled helium balloon that’s soaring up to the ceiling. Brooke removes her arms from Vanessa’s sides and holds out the flowers to her. “For a few reasons, really. The first one was to give you these- congratulations on getting better!”

Vanessa laughs, thanks her as she accepts the flowers. They’re beautiful- clusters of tiny purple flowers arranged amongst tall stems with yellow-orange petals wrapped in florist’s paper and a lilac ribbon. Brooke’s still talking to her as she’s examining them.

“And second of all-” Brooke holds up her phone. “I was wondering if you wanted to dance with me.”

Vanessa gives Brooke a funny look, still unable to stifle her smile. “I mean, sure, but you know we got rehearsal tomorrow?”

Brooke grins, crosses over to where Vanessa’s speakers are still plugged in and connects her phone. “Yeah, but…I never got to dance the Viennese with you, and I want to.”

Vanessa can feel tiny fireworks going off in her nerve endings. Or perhaps that’s just her pulse thudding through her veins with alarming intensity. Either way it’s intoxicating.

“Alright,” Vanessa shrugs, pretending it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I guess I could dance with you. Since, y’know, you came all this way.”

She sticks her tongue out and Brooke laughs, although even though she’s acting carefree Vanessa’s stomach is fluttering with nervousness as Brooke hits play on the song and the piano introduction rings out into the echoey silence of the room. She doesn’t know why she’s nervous, it’s just dancing- scratch that, she knows exactly why she’s nervous, and when Brooke stands ready to hold her Vanessa gives her a shy smile

“Just follow my lead.”

Vanessa snorts quietly. “Hark at Miss Celebrity.”

“Shush.”

Brooke leads her effortlessly and it only makes Vanessa’s sense of complete, all-consuming longing worse. She twirls under Brooke’s arm, marvelling in the way the girl makes her feel like a princess in a pair of sweatpants and a baggy gym top. She’s so infatuated and it’s dangerous, but Vanessa doesn’t care.

“You can have Manhattan, the one we used to share…the one where we were laughing, and drunk on just being there…”

The choreography falls away and they slip into just swaying, Vanessa resting her head against Brooke’s chest. The chords of the song reverberate off the walls of the rehearsal room and Vanessa doesn’t know why, but tears start forming in her eyes. Maybe it’s the relief of everything being back to normal again, maybe it’s the sadness of the song, maybe it’s the happiness of Brooke doing all these sweet things for her. The tears roll down her face silently as she clings to Brooke, and Brooke doesn’t notice she’s even upset until presumably she feels her tears begin to seep through the black t-shirt she’s wearing. She steps out of hold and Vanessa looks to the floor, can’t bear to face her with tears in her eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

Brooke gently tilts Vanessa’s chin up with her fingers so that their eyes are level. Her gaze is gentle and kind and all at once the safest place Vanessa has known. Quickly and suddenly Vanessa leans in and bridges the gap between them, and before she can overthink things she’s meeting Brooke’s lips with her own just like she’s wanted to all these weeks. She’s got a hand on either side of Brooke’s face, her touch urgent just like her kiss, and as good as her lips feel it hits Vanessa with a sobering clarity that Brooke isn’t kissing back oh God why isn’t she kissing back-

And it’s just as this thought hits her that Brooke gently tugs herself away, frowns at Vanessa with concern and sweeps away a tear from under her eyelid. “Vanessa…”

Vanessa feels sick. So many thoughts are running around her mind, but in her vast panic she immediately latches onto three of them.

1: Brooke didn’t kiss her back.

2: Brooke broke away from the kiss.

3: She needs to get out of this room before she humiliates herself any further.

Brooke hasn’t stopped holding her which she supposes is a good sign but she can’t focus on that now. She wriggles out of Brooke’s arms, ignoring her protestations and blindly snatching up the flowers Brooke gave her (she’ll later realise she forgot both her speakers and her jumper). Trying to stop the tears of embarrassment that are now streaming down her face, she dashes quickly to the door.

“Fuck…V, wait-” Brooke urges, but Vanessa doesn’t. Brooke doesn’t follow her and she’s glad of it as she bursts out of the studio and down the corridor towards the exit.

The closing chords of the song that’s still playing ring in her ears in harmony with Brooke’s pleas, and it’s the worst kind of music Vanessa has ever heard.

#rpdr fanfiction #ortega #bet you look good on the dancefloor #strictly au #lesbian au #branjie #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #plastique tiara #jan sport #jackie cox #monique heart #akeria davenport #jaida essence hall #background jankie

46 notes · View notes

emhowling · 3 years

Photo

e m m a l o u i s e v a n i t y

basics:

name: emma louise vanity. pronunciation: eh·muh loo·ease va·nuh·tee. meaning: emma- whole & universal. louise- famous warrior. birthday: august 13th. age: twenty-two. pronouns: she & her & they. sexuality: bisexual. siblings: heather, trey, & sage vanity. the pack. parents: darrell & darlene vanity. rosalyn & fenrir greyback. other family: the greyback pack. languages: english. romani. grunts. current residence: trailer in the greyback caravan. hometown: warwickshire.

wizard fun:

hogwarts house: slytherin. year of graduation: 1977. occupation: tattoo artist & piercer at markus scarr’s. pet: beta fish named nicole. blood status: muggleborn. species: werewolf. patronus: leopardess. leopards are graceful hunters. they symbolize elegance in spite of adversity and looming danger. they are great representations of warriors and hunters. it also symbolizes stealth and strength. both traits are good to have if you’re hunting or seeking something. sensuality and passion are usually attributed to them. additionally, they are considered symbols of privacy and secrets. boggart: emma is very, very claustrophobic. she is always terrified of being locked into a small confined space or being chain up. amortentia: blackberries. emma doesn’t necessarily love blackberries, but she does love anything that is blackberry flavored. blackberry pies, blackberry cobblers, blackberry jams, jellies, lollipops, and even blackberry wine is her favorite thing to have. they used to grow at the treeline of the playground behind the trailer where she was born. wildflowers. no matter where or what time if emma sees wildflowers growing, she’ll stop to enjoy them. they’ve always been a secret love of hers and frankly, she finds them far more beautiful than any curated flowers. they’re never the same thing twice, but they make everywhere smell infinitely better. whiskey. it isn’t even her drink of choice. if asked, emma would much rather be let loose with tequila. there is just something about the smell of high brow whiskey that reminds her of something happy. wand type: 9 1/3″, black walnut wood wand with a dragon heartstring core, stubborn and bouncy. less common than the standard walnut wand, that of black walnut seeks a master of good instincts and powerful insight. black walnut is a very handsome wood, but not the easiest to master. it has one pronounced quirk, which is that it is abnormally attuned to inner conflict, and loses power dramatically if its possessor practices any form of self-deception. if the witch or wizard is unable or unwilling to be honest with themselves or others, the wand often fails to perform adequately and must be matched with a new owner if it is to regain its former prowess. paired with a sincere, self-aware owner, however, it becomes one of the most loyal and impressive wands of all, with a particular flair in all kinds of charmwork. as a rule, dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. while they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner. the dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the dark arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental. affiliation: de affiliated, loyalty only to the greybacks.

appearance:

height: 5′. hair color: brown. eye color: brown. typical hair style: tied up into a bun on top of her hand with a scarf wrapped around it or braided in intricate patterns. fashion style: emma wears a little bit of this and a little bit of that. a lot of her clothes are acquired by just being near her and wearable. she goes through a lot of clothes given how tough she is on the fabric. there is a lot of layering, but there’s nothing emma hates more than being too hot so she had the tendency to shed them until she’d comfortable. [ fashion ] distinguishing features: emma has a lot of scars over her body, some full moon related and other not. she has a few small tattoos. her weight fluctuates somewhat wildly based on the lunar cycle, and sometimes she does look markedly pallid. notably when she smiles, she has deep set dimples.

personality:

positive traits: innovative. nimble. artistic. negative traits: combative. disorganized. tactless. theme song: hungry like the wolf by duran duran.

headcanons:

emma has been drawing for as long as she can remember. if there’s a pencil or pen or quill in sight, emma will pick it up and set to drawing something. her favorite medium is definitely charcoal since it’s the easiest to come by and use quickly.

fuck shoes. if given a choice, emma would literally go barefoot all of the time. she kicks off her shoes at any given opportunity, and especially likes to go running when she is barefooted.

emma is a small girl and perhaps an even smaller wolf. it’s easy to spot her on a full moon as she is particularly small and irritatingly fast on her feet. she’s been lovingly referred to as the runt of the litter more often than not.

biography:

Darrell and Darlene Vanity never intended to be absent parents. Truly they didn’t, but they were young, and they were poor. Four children weren’t cheap. It took a lot of extra shifts, saving, and scraping by to just afford the power and water in their little trailer at the very edge of the park where the fence didn’t quite meet ends. More often than not, they were all four left to fend for themselves. More often than not, there just wasn’t enough room in the confined little trailer. The parents slept in the large bed crammed in the small side room with the eldest two kids, but the youngest two had a kitchen table that converted down so a mattress could slide on top. Needless to say, Emma Vanity always felt a bit trapped in such mundane circumstances.

There was a big hole in the fence around the back that the kids could crawl through while no one was looking. Emma couldn’t remember the first time she snuck through that old rusted metal to the playground on the other side. If asked, she would tell you that it was the first day she learned how to toddle out the front door of the trailer. She would spend hours on the swings, the seesaw, the merry go round, and the slides. Most of the fixtures barely worked, but it was a good escape for the Vanity kids. It was where Emma made her first drawing. It was where she broke her arm for the first time. It was where she first met the Greybacks.

Only eight years old at the time, and already far too keen to escape her surroundings. Emma skipped school more often than not, it felt like the trailer in too many ways. Small-minded and confined by the walls of a big prison where the adults yelled at you for needing to piss or drawing on your tests or running at full speed down the hall. It just wasn’t a place for someone like her, and she didn’t need to be any older to see it. There was more to her than the other snotty little kids around her. Even if no one else could see it from the trailer trash. She had been busy that day trying to repair the rusted chain of the old swing set with the little bit of that unexplained extra she possessed, which later Emma learned was the beginning of her magic slipping through, when she got caught.

From the treeline, a woman stepped forward. She was perhaps the most beautiful person that Emma had ever seen. The first thing she did was tell Emma that she was special. Well they could definitely agree on that. The woman offered her more. More than a trailer and more than a rusted playground and distant school. More than parents who forgot her and siblings who didn’t notice her. Emma took her hand and never looked back. Frankly, she never even knew if her parents put up missing posters or not. It was probably a relief to have one less mouth to feed.

Fenrir wasted no time biting her. That first transition was the hardest thing that she had ever had to go through. The pain of shedding her skin will be seared into the very core of her memory for the rest of her life. Yet, there was never any hesitation because she was a child or even any thought that she could not keep up with the rest of the pack. It was just expected that she would, and Emma lived for that independence. The Greybacks held to every promise made to her. They were far more parents to her than the Vanity’s had ever been. They raised her.

It was harder than she wanted to admit to leave them for Hogwarts, but ‘kids go to school’. So Emma went. It was confining at first. There was too much she wasn’t allowed to do again. It wasn’t easy to keep things under wraps, Emma had never been a very good secret keeper. Her first year, she certainly spent more time in detention than she ever did in class. She would spend hours drawing the intricate architecture of the castle and her classmates in various states of distress or joy. That is when she discovered Quidditch. She was hooked. The only reason she started to do her coursework was so that her marks would be good enough to play. A proper chaser in all regards. She even managed captain in her later years. It was likely the only reason she didn’t drop out in her fifth year like her parents had. That and a handful of good friends she wasn’t quite ready to lose. Besides, apparently the accommodations for werewolves had really improved in recent years. It wasn’t unbearable to tolerate the time.

After graduation, Emma returned to her pack. Fenrir had made a deal with the devil, and that was just fine by her. It wasn’t as if she was particularly keen on a war, but it was always fun to have something to do. It kept her close enough to her school friends too. She trusted him with her life. That included what said life entailed. If he thought it was the right call, Emma would believe him. However, there’s been a building tension about just how right that call might be. In her spare time, she picked up a relatively flexible job at the local tattoo parlor as an artist and piercer, but there is a part of her that is screaming- what’s next?

#ahintro #;emma #;about #;biography #;inspo

2 notes · View notes

herstarburststories · 4 years

Text

Batfam Headcanon: Pregnancy

✾ Request: Can I request a batfam headcanon? Batboys reactions when Kory says she’s pregnant of Mar’i. Btw love you page💕

✾ A/N: You teased me about dickkory, now you got a bible. That’s how it goes. Also, added Babs, Alfred and Bruce as bonus. And I’m glad you enjoy my work! Ps: I barely know Duke, tha’s why he doesn’t show up here.

✾ Disclaimer: Main relationship is Dick Grayson x Koriand’r. Mentions of Tim x Steph and Tim x Kon (kind of?). Check my Fandoms’ liist to see which Ships I’ll write for.

━─┈ ✧

Dick Grayson

I'm gonna use unpublished Nightwing #30 here: he and Kory had sex when he was getting ready for the agente stuff.

Once Agent 37 is off the deal, they end up finding each other again. A bit before Dick gets shoot.

And then, as usually it is between the acrobat and the alien princess, they do it again.

Over and over again.

She gets pregnant and finds out by the time Dick is amnesic.

Don't @ me DC would do that.

Kory flies towards Bludhaven & talks to him. It's not exactly successful. As he had said to Babs before, he didn't want his memories back. Ric was happy without Dick's conscience.

But Starfire isn't asking for her; it's about him, of course. He should be himself, he worked very hard through years to become who he truly was. But mostly, she begged him to come back because of a new addition to their lives.

Pregnant alien!!

At first, Ric Grayson doesn't believe it. Actually, part of him is aware that's true, he can feel it in the change inside his heart when he saw her; something similar to shame and adoration and excitement at once. Kory moved, talked, and seemed like someone he could love, be completely crazy about.

But he wasn't a father!

Koriand'r leaves, and Grayson is by himself again. Without his Gotham or Titans affiliates.

And, for the first time, there is no comfort in that.

He could tell she wasn't lying. Even though a part of his treacherous new mind tried to convince him otherwise.

Grayson's mind didn't know any gorgeous alien, let alone a pregnant with his child alien.

Yet, Dick felt like he had her in his veins. Just like he did with Bruce, Damian, Barbara, Donna, and the others. Tickles behind his skin, a red alarm for a memory that was long lost. But the sensation of keeping it somewhere remained inside him.

Although, when it came to the redhead princess, the warmth inside him was more intense.

Dick was going to be a father. He didn't even know his whole self and would be needed to take care of someone else. Someone small, part of him, and the legacy of the Flying Grayson's. Besides, he didn't even actually remember the mother of his kid.

didn't even remember making the kid.

He calls Bruce. Telling him to bring the antidote that Barbara was keeping if he wanted his memories back.

Not for him, not because it was the right thing, not because of everyone who claimed to love him cried for Dick to do that. Not even because of familiar senses holding into him every time he interacted with someone from his past.

But because he was going to be a father.

This decision was for his child.

When Bruce, Babs, and Damian ask why, he doesn't answer.

He remembers now, and he needs to find Kory.

It's scary, exciting, and the biggest surprise she ever gave to him-- even more scandalous than the day she fell on earth and kissed him.

A dad! He would be a dad!

Jason Todd

It all started off as an unusual ordinary day;

Roy got himself in trouble, Jason went to help him and the little problem became a bigger situation. Roy called Kory and a few minutes later, the situation was replaced by dust and fire smell. No one died, but it was enough to make the villains leave.

In the middle of ''What the fuck they wanted?" & "Who were they?" wonders, the original Outlaws heard a familiar motorcycle's noise which made Jason huff, Roy arch eyebrows and Kory confused.

Dick Grayson was there.

He was hysterical, blue eyes flaming with worry and relief towards Kory. Between their couple discussion and the others attempt to understand what was going on

Were they back together? Did dick know about the outlaws' way and was sticking his nose where it didn't belong? Did the titans need kory urgently?

Until 'pregnant' left Dick's lips, being followed by Kory's chaotic scream of "Just because I am pregnant, it does not mean I can not fight!"

Roy just had to get closer to them and explain that it would make no good to go through stressful situations, especially if he got it right.

A deep breath would be taken, and then Dick would apologize to Kory, saying he was just really scared for both of them. She'd look at her Outlaw friends and curve the corner of her lips-- that Kory smile that translate into 'I've seen hell and chose to use its flames to warm up the cold places of my heart.'

‘’Jason, Roy. . . I am expecting a baby.’’

Meanwhile, Jason was taking off his helmet and glaring at his friends with a perplexed look on his face. Also, a slightly desire of punching Dick. Last time he had heard of their relationship, it was about both of them avoiding each other, his older brother telling him to take care of Kory and Jason calling Dick an idiot. Yeah, he had to have a chat with him later.

For now, Roy was pulling him and Kory into a group hug.

Almost felt like their old times together.

Roy: Outlaw baby!! / Dick: Excuse me?

Tim Drake

Okay, okay. First of all, he wasn't planning on seeing any member of his family for a quite while. Not that Tim didn't want to, he was just really running out of time. Being Young Justice's leader was a full time job, and he wanted to be excellent at it.

But things don't always pass by as they were settle to. Therefore, when a disaster happens and Conner, of all people, gets hurt, Tim is in a delicate state of mind.

Drake is smart. He knows it isn't just about Conner. It's all the small things he's been keeping since Gotham.

Not enough sleep, but a certain amount of coffee to make his hands shake when it's late enough for the sun to come out weakly. His relationship with Steph is growing with disagreements from both lives; heroic and urban. His best friend is hurt because he analyzed too much a situation instead of telling his team what to do, so they made their independent choices. A dumb mistake, the kind that Batman would be disappointed of. Tim himself was biting his own neck about it. How could he be a leader? He should be better than that.

And then, he made a call. Because of all things he might be and might not be, he wasn't Batman.

Tim had friends, and a brother that would know what he was going through.

And he knew how to ask for help sometimes.

Dick comes by as fast as possible. They go to the roof and talk it out.

"Remember that they aren't just your team, Tim," He would say, a tranquil smile on his face. It's so similar to how he explained his relationship with the Titans when Drake was still Robin years ago. "They are your family. It's impossible for you not to be affected when they get hurt or something goes wrong. But they are alive. They still trust you. They believe, and need you. You need to give yourself some credit, and do your best for them."

OF COURSE Tim is stubborn about that because Dick is Dick and he basically grew with the Titans, it wasn't the same thing. He didn't have his older brother's skills to command, communicate, etc.

It was scary.

"Yet, Tim, a lot of things are scary. But you have to keep going. For who needs saving. For yourself. For the people you love."

His tone is too sentimental, even for Dick's big brother moments.

"You need to find something to fight for. That's how you keep going, even when you make mistakes. Good news, you already have it. "

Tim: Yeah, I think so. . . You came back to the Titans? I still have access to the computers.

Dick: Yeah, no. Kind if. It's complicated.

Tim: "Complicated? Like. . . Alien kind of complication?"

Dick: "You should know about that, huh?"

BLUSHING, STUTTERING TIM. Cutting it because I already mentioned Steph, but I couldn't miss this opportunity ok.

Dick just laughs about it.

"Starfire isn't complicated, but yeah. We are still deciding if we will keep in the Titans or if we are going to Bludhaven for now."

"It sounds serious, even permanent."

"As permanent as a baby can be."

HHSHHSUSJJSIUSIE

BABY?

IS SHE PREGNANT??

Yeah, Tim was pretty wake, and shaking, and his brain felt like burning right now.

OH MY-- DICK

He was going to be a FATHER.

"YOU ARE GONNA BE A PARENT!"

But then, Dick was the older one and the best with kids.

"WAIT, SHE WILL BE HALF ALIEN. An hybrid. In nature, two different but similar species can procreate, but their kid can't have kids. Do you think--"

"Tim, calm down. Can you at least give me congratulations before talking about my unborn child's probable infertility?"

Damian Wayne

He knew Kory and Dick had been seeing each other again.

Therefore, making one of them notice his presence before showing up was necessary.

He didn't want to accidentally see profanity between his brother figure and his team's current leader, thank you.

After an obvious noise, he got in Dick's apartment.

As expected, Starfire was there.

She was standing up, and Grayson and looking at her tearful, while holding her belly.

It wasn't possible.

Grayson wouldn't be that irresponsible, would he?

Of course he would.

" So, I supposed Starfire either has a deadly bellyache, or you two are procreating. "

He is mildly fearing that Dick won't have much time for him, but that's a matter for another time.

BONUS!

Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth

Dick visits the manor with Kory someday.

He had to give the news or Batman would end up knowing anyway.

Honestly, it wasn't about that. He actually wanted to tell Bruce about his baby.

Alfred was there when they exchanged greetings, politely as usual.

‘'We are having a baby.'’

Listen, Bruce knows how to keep his emotions under his skin, but his eldest son being a father?

This must be the most real expression he has showed in years, and it's full of emotions; he is content, and surprised, and worried.

Some would say that Alfred was tearfully, but kept his posture. Master Bruce really made it. Obstacles, of course, even more than necessary at times. Yet, he was going to be a grandfather, and master Dick was becoming a father.

Gotham had a sunny day for once.

Barbara Gordon

If it's not Kory and Babs' baby, she will be aunt Babs

Something happens, help becomes needed.

Nightwing shows up in the middle of the combat, he was in Gotham to talk to Bruce & Alfred & Damian, anyway.

Batman dispersed him, though.

And Batgirl was confused by Batman's choice, especially after listening to his explanation:

"Nightwing, this is more dangerous than our usual job. I will take Robin and Batgirl. You have more urgent thinks to be taken care of. "

The dynamic duo leaves and there is just two long time friends.

It doesn't take a half second for Barbara to notice Dick hiding something.

Sigh, sigh, sigh.

"All right, Dick Grayson. What did you do?"

"Apparently, a baby."

????????????

"He has been ditching me since he learned about Kory's pregnancy."

"KORY'S WHAT!?"

"You didn't even tell me you two were back together!"

"You lost your virginity to an attractive alien and now she is pregnant with your child. That is. . . Surprising."

"I am really happy for you, Dick."

"Thank you, Babs. . . You know what? Maybe it's time to actually introduce you to Kory."

Communicator ringing.

"After I take care of something. Go home, dad."

126 notes · View notes

jemfisch · 4 years

Photo

⌠ MASON GOODING, 21, CISMALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, JEREMY “JEM” FISCHMAN II! according to their records, they’re a SECOND YEAR year, specializing in ADVANCED ENCRYPTION & “MACGUYVER” SURVIVAL SKILLS AND NAVIGATION; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (old hip hop blaring from headphones, a broken crtv with the cords ripped out and repurposed, the smell of spray paint graffiti, brightly colored shirts with 80s patterns). when it’s the (cancer)’s birthday on 06/23/99, they always request their ICE CREAM SANDWICHES from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ kati, 24, she/her, est ⍀ @gallagherintro

STATS / PINTEREST / CONNECTIONS / CLASSES

INSPIRATION

fox mulder (the x files)

hogarth hughes (the iron giant)

will turner (pirates of the carribean)

robin hood

george weasley (harry potter)

aladdin

spike spiegel (cowboy bebop)

mark watney (the martian)

BACKGROUND + CLICK FOR BIO

his parents were high school sweethearts and married just before they attended college at harvard together, securing careers at the kennedy space center.

jeremy fischman sr dies under mysterious circumstances in a lab accident and ellen is twenty-eight and left alone to raise baby jem. things only go downhill from here. jeremy was the love of her life and she becomes obsessed with his disappearance and all kinds of conspiracy theories, blows a bunch of her money. it doesn’t take long for her to be fired, savings blown on expensive equipment or sunk into internet hoaxes

they move to a rough neighborhood in gainesville where jem grows up. he likes jem, not jeremy, jeremy is his father. he’s never experienced the perfect life his parents used to live, the white picket fence, the shiny space shuttles. he’s only got this, and honestly, he doesn’t hate it.

the neighborhood’s rough, but there’s a lot of fun characters, and his mom is practically his best friend – aside from his next-door neighbor, NOAH WARD.

jem’s mom does odd hacking jobs from the comfort of their home. some of them are shadier than others, she makes connections with a lot of private investigators in town and looks into people’s cheating husbands and tracks down birth parents and missing people. she does pro bono work too, a kindhearted woman, she can never say no to those in need, even if she’s not so fortunate herself. as jem gets older, he learns everything that he knows from her

every summer vacation growing up, jem and his mom would pack their bags and make home in a camper van, traveling across the country. in some ways, this was great mother-son bonding, but this wasn’t why they did it. his mom never gave up looking for the truth about her husband, but hacking into secure, top-secret government databases is nothing like hacking into the gainesville city hall, it’s hard work, and they travel around the country methodically so that their signal cannot be traced. every summer they get close, but never close enough.

when noah moves away for college, jem stays home. he’s not comfortable leaving his mom.

he keeps up with hacking jobs and keeping up with looking for his dad on the side. he doesn’t think they’ll ever find him, his mom holds out hope but jem is eighteen years old and a bit more jaded now, he figures the guy’s just really dead and well, the conspiracy of it all matters less and less when he knows that either way, he’s still grown up without him.

a lot of jem’s social life is online, whether it’s friends from hacking forums or via soundcloud.

when he’s not hacking, he’s making music. his passions of technology and music mix and he creates his own beats and soundcloud, mashing together songs, and even putting together a popular meme track or two used on tiktok.

it’s actually a bit lucrative, but that’s not why he does it. doesn’t even really use his name, catch him on soundcloud…username? uncutjems.

every time he and his mom get close to finding his dad, there’s just more to do, and it’s almost like someone KNOWS what they’re doing.

jem’s right about that – he is being watched. since noah’s admission to gallagher, recruiters have been aware of the boy who taught her everything she knew.

when gallagher makes the choice to start allowing male students, an agent shows up at his door offering him a once in a lifetime chance at a free education.

jem doesn’t have any strong ambition to go into espionage, per say, but he won’t say no to advanced classes taught by some of the world’s brightest minds – and a chance to reunite with his best friend. however, he hasn’t stopped trying to get into the government’s records and still has ambitions of going into music production.

PERSONALITY.

INTUITIVE. jem has a natural intuition about things and he trusts himself and his own opinions about things. i suppose you could perceive this as confidence, but honestly he’s just really SMART, good at absorbing facts even subconsciously and putting things together about people or situations. in a sense, he has a habit of being correct – he definitely comes off as intelligent, even though his grades in school have never been very good. he just has different priorities.

LOYAL. make a friend out of jem and you have a friend for life, he’ll take your secrets to the grade and he’s pretty trustworthy. he’s the type of guy that gets along with pretty much everyone but he has a few select, close friends because he is somewhat intentional about the company that he keeps. he’s friendly and kind, but he keeps his inner circle of people he trusts close and somewhat exclusive.

PROTECTIVE. kind of has papa bear energy, you know ? maybe the dad friend of your friend group, but in a laid back way, he might not seem like he’s the type to spring into action but call someone close to him a rude name and you’ll see his fist coming at your face. he’s protective but not possessive, i guess is how i would describe it, but i think he gives pretty good advice as well because he’s really hoping the best for ppl.

MALINGERING. jem is kind of a SLACKER! at least, that’s what teachers have called him in the past, he simply does not dream of labor. he’s just kind of doing his own thing, will fake sick to skip a class, whatever else, even though he likes producing music he doesn’t really have a great ambition for anything, spy or otherwise. as long as he has a good computer setup, then he’s fucking chilling.

MOODY. he’s laid back to the umpteenth degree when it comes to work or obligations, but he does have sort of mood swings, i guess he’s the sort of person that you would describe as grumpy at times ? definitely NOT a morning person and when he’s in an off mood, he can be hard to interact with or snap out of.

DISORGANIZED. the sort of person to throw his stuff across the bed or leave piles of clothes on the floor to deal with later, maybe he’s not your favorite roommate for this reason. he has a habit of losing things that he just set down or whatever, things like that.

HEADCANONS.

tbh you can think of him like...beca in pitch perfect ! he’s here bc he was offered a free education and he’s cool with that, but he’d rather be pursuing a future in music. a damn good hacker, though, and the gallagher recruiters are hoping that with some ‘ambition’ he’ll want to work for the government someday.

played baseball throughout middle and high school and he’s fairly athletic – he can get pretty competitive when he plays, it kind of brings out a side in him that most people don’t expect to see because he’s fairly chilled out most of the time

a boss with a slingshot. there is no reason for this, but he had one as a kid and he used to chase squirrels away from the bird feeders outside their home. he has great eyesight and his aim is great, but it’s literally the only weapon he’s proficient in

he’s not tiktok famous for his face, but he has two tiktok famous songs...he’s made like 12k in record deals for selling the rights, it’s just the kind of shit that he does goofing around in music software and he has a good ear for what is going to be catchy

he’s NOT a morning person, definitely a late night kind of guy, will stay up until all hours just fucking around on the computer and then he’ll sleep until 1 or 2pm, at least. getting up for morning classes is a struggle for them and he has slept through them on occasion.

funky sweaters, crazy socks, fun-patterned shirts, he dresses a bit like a circus tent at times, but you can’t say that he doesn’t have style – he dresses well, but it’s like he’s stepped out of a 90s cartoon or something

if he makes u a playlist he either wants to be ur friend so fucking bad or he’s head over heels in love with u

really likes making new things with old technology, he loves taking the macguyver courses and learning new things and he’s actually built his own computer and a lot of his own musical instruments

usually has a couple bandaids because he’s a bit accident prone or can lose his focus when working in the lab. when he gets in his own head while working on a project, he literally cannot hear anything else – sort of selective hearing

likes fucking around with spray paint, if he can, he’s got a bit of an artistic streak and he doodles stickers on sticker paper sometimes. you can probably catch his tag around campus or even stuck to the latops of his close friends, it’s just a little man with a tv for a head.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

HACKING JOBS – if you STILL need a hacker for any of your wild backstory connections, jem is a great bet. he’s been doing paid jobs for people professionally since he could type, and he’s sort of an ace at getting in and out without leaving a trace...and he’s no gossip. so, your secrets would be safe with him.

SMOKING BUDDIES – people that he can smoke up with, talk about life, talk about the bullshit of gallagher, but also people he can laugh with that don’t make him feel stressed or concerned about the future.

MUSIC MAKING BUDDIES – if your character makes music, maybe they can collaborate on something...we’re about to drop the hottest mixtape of all time right here at gallagher academy i will teach myself garageband for this shit...jk but maybe

EX ON BAD TERMS – someone he dated last year...i’m imagining it was their first year and things were really great for the first semester, but shit fell apart second semester along with the school. maybe all the drama on campus caused distance, maybe he wasn’t there for them when they needed it, or maybe they got jealous of the way he always prioritizes noah ? a combination of things, we can hash out the details since i know some of you had some pretty angsty things going on second sem, and maybe it’s awkward now because it feels like there’s unfinished biz.

EX ON GOOD TERMS / LOVERS TO FRIENDS – maybe someone that was a rebound and things didn’t really work and they saw that, maybe he wasn’t over his ex or whatever but they were able to stay friends ? it’s up to you how your muse feels about it but i want an ex that jem also has no hard feels about and actually is maybe sort of protective of them and cares a lot about them finding happiness, they bonded hardcore.

EX-FLING – idk maybe they were hooking up for a while and then one of them started seeing someone else or one of them caught feels so they don’t hook up any more but it was super fun when they did !! also down for it to have been like a summer fling and once the summer ended.

BROS – idk i would like for him to have a squad or something for him to just fuck around with <3 but it’s wholesome and they respect women

ONLINE FRIEND (ANONYMOUS) – he spent a lot of time on forums online and stuff so i’d love for him to have an online friend !! maybe cute if they just know each other by their screen names rn and we can do a bunch of text chats and maybe they both know they go to gallagher but they simply. haven’t met idk

ONLINE FRIENDS – also friends he met online that aren’t anonymous they could’ve met through any number of forums but probably have similar interests like music or hacking so they’re long time homies , someone he’s known almost as long as noah

ONE NIGHT STAND – self explanatory. maybe they’re super good friends and now it’s kind of awkward now and they want to get back to a place of normalcy but it’s simply not normal, maybe they fucked things up by breakin the tension on like. halloween or some shit.

FRIENDZONED – someone jem accidentally friendzoned and maybe he doesn’t even realize it himself but they had a thing for him and he really just didn’t realize it bc he can’t tell unless you spell it out for him.

CLASS RIVALS – someone who tries really hard and cares about class a bunch vs. jem who doesn’t give a fuck but he keeps making the grade without really trying, so they’re ? bitter about it ? and so the two really do not hit it off because of that and they go back and forth , i just rly want a classroom rivalry. maybe even this rivalry and them nagging him actually motivates to try in the class just to piss them off

ENEMY – this person shared a secret with jem and then it somehow got out on the gossip blog idk ! they think jem told and now they hate him.

anything pls let’s chat !

#gallagher:intro

11 notes · View notes

pufflyhallows · 5 years

Text

Comforting Enough

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Request: May I request an imagine where George and the reader have been close for many years, her father being friends with the Weasley’s. The reader and George obviously have feelings for eachother, but they’ve never confessed. When Fred and George leave she is still at hogwarts, cause shes a year younger. But, the reader gets into a serious relationship with someone else, until she gets hurt or cheated on. Cut to now, where they meet again at the Burrow when Harry is being moved ? Thank u!💛

a/n: I took the movie as reference, hope you don’t mind. Also, I think it got this long because I had to go through a few events to be as close to canon as possible. Thanks again for requesting it, I loved the idea!

Warnings: angsty, mentions of death and blood.

Word count: 4,898

********

You hugged your pillow tight and let out all the tears you had been holding during the way back to your dorm.

How could he do that to you? You had always been there for him. Always! You didn’t deserve that. No one deserved that.

The thought of how unfair it was only made you cry even more.

Why had he done that to you? You couldn’t understand. He said... he said he loved you. But that wasn’t love. That couldn’t be love.

The scene went through your eyes again. The sharp feeling of a knife being dug into your heart was too intense.

It was just before the last class of the day. You had seen him at lunch, you had shared a short kiss, you had gone separate ways. A perfectly normal day.

But you heard giggles coming from the second floor girls’ lavatory on your way to the last class. You, being the Head Girl, had to go there and see if Moaning Myrtle was being teased by the students or something of the sort. You would never think that what you were about to see was your boyfriend shamelessly making out with a girl. A girl that wasn’t you. A girl that was sitting on the sinks with her legs wrapped around your boyfriend’s hips.

You froze on the spot. You wanted to turn around and leave. You wanted to run as fast as you could, but your feet were glued to the ground. You could only watch the scene with your mouth dry.

It was only when the girl saw you and parted the kiss that you were able to turn around and run to your dorm. You guessed your boyfriend saw you leaving too, because the last thing you heard was him yelling at the girl.

“You said no one comes here!”

And now there you were. The tears fell down so quickly, you thought they would never stop.

Your chest felt so tight, the room so small, the bed so cold...

But the worst part of it all was the fact that you had no one to call. You couldn’t think of a single person you could go to at that moment. There was no shoulder to cry on. Well, of course there was someone in your mind, though. But that someone wasn’t here anymore. And, God, did it hurt.

It hurt because you knew if that someone was still here, you wouldn’t be going through that. How many times had he warned you about the boy you insisted in dating? How many letters had he sent you saying you deserved better? Saying that boy wasn’t the one for you? Saying he would hurt you?

And how many letters had you sent back saying you were the one who knew what was best for you? And that he had lost the right to say those things when he left?

One. Only one.

George didn’t write back after that.

Your crying got even more intense as you thought about what happened between you and your best friend. You had no one to cry to anymore. You had no one to hold you until the pain went away. You had no one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your seventh year in Hogwarts was the hardest school year you had ever been through. You caught your boyfriend cheating on you with a younger girl just weeks shy of graduation, but that didn’t compare to the death of your headmaster Albus Dumbledore and the small battle that took place in Hogwarts just before that. It was the scariest moment of your life and when you truly realized you were in a war, leaving you completely lost and on the verge of despair.

Once you were back home, you felt uncertain of your future as the fear of losing your loved ones was taking over you.

The long weeks went by and you saw your father going out often while your mother spent her days making sure all the protection spells worked. She was starting to become obsessed with it and you were worried about her, but you didn’t know what to do. You were spending your days almost like her. Though instead of protection spells, your obsession was the news. Every day you read the news terrified of seeing a known name on the missing people list... or worse.

You wanted to do something to help, and although your father agreed you were old enough to fight, your mother always rejected the idea, keeping you home.

One day, you were surprised by the visit of Arthur Weasley. It was strange to realize that you had missed him very much. You wanted to be part of the conversation he was having with your father, but your mother kept you in the kitchen with her, saying they needed privacy.

When they were finished and Mr. Weasley left, your father had a puzzled look on his face. You wondered what they had talked about specifically, although you knew it was the war.

The next day, your father came to your room and, for your shock, said you would have to leave.

“It’s not safe enough here,” he said, holding your hand, “You’ll stay at the Burrow, with the Weasleys. I’m sure you’ll feel at home there.”

Of course you would. You had basically grown up there.

“Yes, but what about you and mom?”

“We’ll be okay. Don’t worry,” he gave you a smile, but that didn’t stop you from worrying at all. “Arthur brought me a Portkey. You’ll use it this evening.”

“This evening?! Dad, I don’t understand. Why aren’t you coming with me?” you frowned, confused.

“Your mother and I have work to do here,” he answered with a more serious expression, “You’ll be safer there.”

“When will I see you again?” you asked, realizing you had no choice.

“Soon. Now pack what you need and be ready.”

You nodded and your father left the room. Although you didn’t quite understand why you had to leave or why you would be safer at the Burrow, you did as your father said and packed what you needed.

Soon enough you were standing at his office and staring at an old book on the floor, holding your suitcase. Both of your parents were there with you, your father’s arm around your mother’s shoulder.

“In a minute, darling,” your father spoke.

“I love you,” your mother said, holding back tears.

“I love you too. Both of you,” you replied.

“We’ll meet again,” your father stated, refusing to take part in the farewell. He looked at his watch one more time and nodded, “Be ready.”

You took a deep breath and tightened the grip on your suitcase’s handle.

You didn’t remember hearing your father’s signal or touching the old book. All you remembered was feeling a hook pulling you back strongly. You closed your eyes as you felt really dizzy and only opened them again once your feet were firm on the ground.

You looked around and recognized the living room you were in. It didn’t take long for you to see Mrs. Weasley rushing from the kitchen.

“Oh, Y/N! You’re just in time! Thank Merlin,” she approached you with her arms open to give you a tight hug, “Welcome, dear.��

“Thank you, aunt Molly.”

“They haven’t arrived yet. I’m waiting with Ginny,” she took the suitcase from your hand and walked towards the stairs. You followed her. “I know they still have time, but you know what a mother’s heart is like. I will only calm down when my four boys come back here safely. And Arthur, of course.”

“Um... Where are they?”

Mrs. Weasley stopped in the middle of the corridor and looked at you.

“You don’t know?”

You shook your head.

“Your parents didn’t tell you?”

You shook your head again, slightly upset for being left out.

“Oh, well. They are moving Harry,” she continued her way to Ginny’s room, “Alastor came up with this nearly crazy plan to bring him. Insanely dangerous! I didn’t agree with it, of course, but do they listen to me? Not ever.”

“Fred and... George are there too?” you asked. It was the first time in months you said those names aloud. You felt weird, actually. And sad. Those names rolled out of your tongue as if you were talking about strangers, or at least two people you met in a different life. Either way, you felt sad.

“Yes. They are out there with Arthur, Bill and Ron. Can’t blame me for being worried, huh?”

“No, I cannot,” you shook your head, feeling worried as well, “Who else is with them?”

“Alastor, of course, along with Fleur, Remus, Nymphadora, Hagrid, Hermione, Kingsley and Mundungus.”

You felt your worry slightly fade away as you heard those names. You would trust those people with your life if needed. Your father was friends with Mad-Eye Moody and you were well aware of his incredible reputation. But you knew you couldn’t be completely relaxed though, given the risks of the mission, and you felt your guts twirl once you thought about your friends facing Death Eaters. However, you didn’t have to worry about that, they wouldn’t have to face anyone that night, they were just moving Harry.

“Ginny?” Mrs. Weasley opened the door, allowing you to see Ginny staring at her window with her arms crossed. “Y/N is here.”

“Hey,” you waved at her.

Ginny quickly walked up to you and hugged you almost just as tight as her mother had.

“It’s really good to see you, Y/N,” she whispered, sounding relieved.

“It’s good to see you too, little one,” you breathed, realizing how much you had missed her, even though you had seen each other in Hogwarts weeks before.

You had always seen Ginny as your best friend’s little sister, hence the nickname you gave her, but after she caught you crying in the Common Room at two in the morning and stayed with you until you were able to go to bed, you started seeing her as a friend. Even though you weren’t really close, she comforted you and made sure you were okay before leaving you alone again. You couldn’t expect that from many people.

“We should wait for them downstairs, girls,” Mrs. Weasley said as she placed your suitcase on the bed, “It’s almost time.”

You and Ginny went to the living room, while Mrs. Weasley decided to stay in the kitchen, where she would be closer to the entrance door.

With each and every sound you heard outside, you felt your heart sinking in. You were trying to push those thoughts away, but it was impossible. What if George didn’t come back? What if something happened to him? Of course you were worried about every single person in that mission, but... George had your heart in his hands. He had it ever since your thirteenth birthday and he would have it forever. You loved him deeply, no matter how many times you had tried to fool yourself by going out with different people and even being in a serious relationship with a boy that wasn’t good to you, which turned out hurting you badly.

You shouldn’t have sent that letter to George. Those couldn’t be your last words to him. They won’t be, you thought. But you couldn’t stop the regret from flooding your mind as you remembered one specific part of the letter.

You don’t get to tell me who I can or can’t go out with. I know what’s best for me and if I want to go out with Pete, I will. You don’t know him like I do.

You were embarrassed. You didn’t think you would be able to look George in the eyes now. Did he know Pete had cheated on you? Had Ginny told him? Should you ask her? Probably not. It wasn’t time for that. She was worried about truly important things at that moment.

But you couldn’t help it. You kept wondering. Was George upset with you? He didn’t write back after that letter, which meant you two hadn’t talked to each other for several months now. You missed him very much, but you had no idea of how you were going to fix things. That is, if you could fix things.

Suddenly, you heard a noise outside, the loudest in that night. You and Ginny jumped from the couch and ran to the front yard, where Mrs. Weasley welcomed Hagrid and Harry.

Ginny ran to the boy and threw her arms around his neck.

“Where are the others?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“Is no one else back?” Harry questioned.

You shook your head, biting your lower lip nervously.

Hagrid started explaining to Mrs. Weasley what had happened to them, while Ginny and Harry talked to each other. You wanted to give them privacy, so you followed Hagrid and Mrs. Weasley inside.

“We didn’t stand a chance, Molly,” Hagrid said, once the three of you were in the kitchen, “The Death Eaters were waiting for us. It was an ambush.”

You felt cold in your core. The fear you had been trying to push away finally took over your entire being. You needed to sit down, or else you would fall.

An ambush.

“Quick! Into the house!” you heard the familiar voice of your former teacher Remus Lupin coming from the front yard. You ran to the entrance door and opened it to let the people inside. What you didn’t expect to see was George covered in blood being held by Lupin and Harry.

“My boy!” Mrs. Weasley cried, “My boy.”

Professor Lupin and Harry laid George down on the couch. You watched it all from the kitchen door, too shocked to even breathe properly. Your hands were shaking and your core felt so cold... You didn’t know what to do. Worrying about the whole Pete situation seemed so silly and insignificant now.

You didn’t remember seeing the others arrive, but with a blink of an eye you saw Fred kneeling down in front of George, everyone else watching with worried expressions.

“How do you feel, Georgie?” Mrs. Weasley whispered.

George’s fingers groped for the side of his head.

“Saintlike,” he murmured.

“What’s wrong with him?” Fred croaked, looking terrified. “Is his mind affected?”

“Saintlike,” George repeated, opening his eyes and looking up at his brother. “You see... I’m holey, Fred, get it?”

You chuckled silently, feeling a tear roll down your cheek. But you quickly wiped it as you saw Tonks looking at you curiously.

Fred laughed quietly. “The whole wide world of ear-related humor, and you go for ‘I’m holey’? It’s pathetic.”

“Reckon I’m still better looking than you,” George smiled weakly.

You smiled to yourself after hearing that. He was still the same George you had grown up with and fallen for. The same George that had taught you how to fly on a broomstick and how to play Quidditch and Exploding Snap. The same George you had shared your deepest secrets with. The same George.

You were gathering the courage to get closer to him and let him see you, but you were completely disarmed when Bill announced the bad news.

“Mad-Eye is dead.”

The room instantly fell in silence. You could see the usual sparkle in Tonks’ eyes fading away.

“Mundungus took one look at Voldemort and disapparated,” Bill added in a low voice.

No one dared to say a word. Everyone seemed to be completely in shock. You didn’t move one muscle, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley shared a sad glance, Ginny looked down at her feet, Fleur got closer to Bill, Tonks placed her hand on Lupin’s and slowly every person in that room felt the reality hitting them.

The sad atmosphere was almost unbearable, the silence deafening.

You crossed your arms above your chest in an attempt of holding yourself tight.

And it was just the beginning...

After a while, the people in the room started leaving. Some passed by you and went to the kitchen, some went outside, others went to their own rooms... Until it was just you, Mrs. Weasley and the twins.

George couldn’t see you from where he was, since Fred was in the way. Mrs. Weasley was caressing her son’s hair with one hand and trying to clean the blood with the other. You hesitantly approached the couch, seeing that George had his eyes closed, and touched Mrs. Weasley’s trembling hand.

“Let me do it,” you asked softly.

George instantly opened his eyes at the sound of your voice. You didn’t meet them as you didn’t think you were strong enough to do so. You took the handkerchief from Mrs. Weasley’s hand and told her to rest. She didn’t reject the idea and soon left the room as well, being followed by Fred, who understood the importance of that moment for you and his brother.

You could feel George’s eyes piercing you, but you ignored them. You sat by his side on the couch and focused on his injury, softly wiping the blood with the kerchief.

“Didn’t think I would see you tonight,” he whispered once you two were completely alone.

“And I didn’t think I would see you like this tonight,” you replied in the same volume.

“What? More handsome?”

You smiled, finally meeting his eyes. You didn’t expect them to be so sad, though.

Your heart skipped beats as he blinked. There was so much you wanted to tell him, so much you wanted to hear from him...

“I...” you tried to say the things you were thinking, but you didn’t find the right words. It was all too crowded in your mind, and suddenly your body expressed what you were feeling in the only way it could: you started to cry.

It was quietly and discretely, but it was still crying. You wiped the tears with the back of your hand and sniffed, trying to make it look like less than what it truly was.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly, “I’m okay.”

“I’m so sorry, George. So sorry,” you shook your head, “I was so stupid. I’m sorry.”

George looked at you, slightly furrowing his brows. He seemed hesitant and unsure, like he was fighting a battle in his head. What you didn’t know was that that battle wasn’t new to him and he had fought it many times before.

But when George saw you wiping one more tear, he left all that hesitation behind and let go of his uncertainty. He sat up on the couch and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close to him as possible. Maybe you should have been more rational than him, maybe you should have told him to lay down again. But you didn’t do that. You hugged him back and at that moment you let out everything.

You were completely vulnerable, as you always were around him, and broke down immediately, crying like never before. It was all too much for you. And even though you felt safe in his arms, you knew that war was far from ending and that you would be really lucky if the people you loved didn’t get hurt again.

George, on the other hand, felt grateful. He was happy to be hugging you again and to be feeling your soft skin against his, even if it was such a brief touch. He felt his worries fading away, his fears disappearing, the war being reduced to a headache. Your embrace was peaceful, warm and gentle. It was perfect. And it smelled really good, like home.

“Shh, I’m here,” he whispered while he slowly stroked your hair, still holding you strongly, “I’m okay.”

“I was so scared,” you said between sobs, against the clean part of his shirt, “I thought you were-”

“Shh, it’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, George.”

“It’s okay,” he repeated.

“I should be comforting you. Not the other way around,” you let go of him and wiped your tears once again.

“You are here with me. You are safe. Alive,” he said, looking in your eyes, “That’s comforting enough.”

You tried to give him a smile, but your chest felt too tight for that. Instead, you reached for his face and caressed his cheek, trying desperately to let him know how much you cared for him, how much you loved him.

“Lay down,” you whispered, realizing he was still bleeding, “I’ll put a bandage on your ear.”

“You mean my non-existent ear?” George raised an eyebrow as he laid back on the couch.

“You’ll have two non-existent ears if you keep teasing me,” you warned, already conjuring the stuff you would need for the wound dressing.

George smiled. “I missed you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up the next morning sweating. You had a nightmare of which you couldn’t remember the exact details, but you could feel it had something to do with your parents. You rubbed your eyes and realized they were wet. Great, you had been crying in your sleep.

You looked around noticing you were alone in Ginny’s room, which meant you were the last one to wake up. You didn’t understand why the girls had been up so early until you realized what day it was. You jumped from the bed and rushed to the bathroom to take a quick shower and get ready. It was Bill and Fleur’s wedding and you couldn’t be late.

Fortunately, your father had told you about the wedding and you had packed a dress for the occasion. You hoped your parents would make it to the party, but you highly doubted it.

Soon enough, you were walking down the stairs fully dressed up and entered the living room. There was no one there. You spun on your heels to go to the kitchen but stopped when you heard Ginny’s voice.

“Zip me up, will you?”

You walked slowly to the door and looked at the kitchen’s interior, seeing Ginny and Harry in there. The girl had her dress unzipped on the back, that was facing the boy. He hesitantly walked up to her and started zipping it.

You blushed when you realized how intimate that moment was. You were about to step back and stop creeping on them when you saw George coming in at the other side.

“’Morning,” he said, raising his cup of tea at them and completely ruining their moment.

You sighed, but a chuckle slipped out of your mouth. Typical.

You had to do something, though.

“Hey, George,” you greeted him as you entered the kitchen. “Oh, hey, Ginny. Harry,” you nodded at them, pretending you hadn’t seen them before. “Could you come with me, Georgie? I need your help.”

The younger twin narrowed his eyes at you but gave in, following you outside.

“Yes?” he asked once you were in the front yard, “What is it?”

“Nothing. I couldn’t let you get in their way,” you shook your head.

He sighed deeply. “I should’ve known.”

“Probably,” you agreed, smiling.

Only at that moment George was able to actually look at you and take in what he was seeing. You looked absolutely beautiful. Like always! But this time was different. You were both older and you were basically two grown ups now. It had been a long time since he had last seen you. Your hair was slightly longer, he noticed in his mind.

His eyes trailed down your entire figure until they curiously stopped on your left hand. Suddenly, they seemed sad, grey.

“Is he coming?” he asked.

You frowned. “Who?”

“Pete,” he pointed at your hand. You looked at it and saw the silver ring on your ring finger. A ring that your father had given you for your eighteenth birthday, but George didn’t know that.

“No, he’s not,” you answered, feeling your throat tighten. “We’re not together anymore.”

Something shifted in George’s eyes and you couldn’t tell what it was. You felt your mouth slightly dry as he tucked his hands in his pockets.

“Oh,” he said, “What happened?”

“What you said it would. He hurt me,” your voice broke at the last sentence, although you weren’t going to cry. You cleared your throat, realizing the atmosphere around you two had suddenly become serious.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Yeah... me too,” you nodded, “I shouldn’t have pushed you away like I did. You didn’t deserve that, you were just trying to protect me.”

“Maybe I was too invasive? You had the right to react the way you did. I could’ve been mistaken, since I was mainly acting out of...”

Jealousy. Acting out of jealousy. But George wasn’t going to admit that so easily.

“Well, I didn’t really know how to deal with the distance,” he concluded.

“Me neither. I felt so lonely in that castle, George. You have no idea,” you breathed, “But no, you weren’t mistaken.”

George nodded, looking down at his feet. Was it too selfish to admit that he was slightly glad that you weren’t with Pete anymore? He felt guilty for it, but he couldn’t avoid it. He still remembered the letter you sent him talking about Pete for the first time. He remembered feeling helpless and lost, like he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He knew Pete, the charming Ravenclaw that every girl in Hogwarts had a crush on. Of course the boy would ask you out, he would be crazy if he didn’t. But George had been almost sure it would end up with your heart broken. Pete had a reputation and it looked like you were ignoring it.

Now, seeing that he was right and it did end up with you being hurt, he felt guilty. Guilty because he could’ve done more to protect you. He could’ve ignored your angry letter and visited you when you went home for Christmas. He could’ve been there for you more. But no. He let his pride take over him and didn’t write to you again.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N.”

“Well, it’s over now. And I’m okay. Ginny was great, I don’t know how I would have carried on if it wasn’t for her.”

“Oh, I see,” George nodded, “That’s why suddenly you decided to help her?”

You chuckled. “The only way to have a friend is to be one.”

“Yeah,” he looked down again, “I should’ve had that in mind.”

“Stop, George,” you moved closer to him, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should’ve been there for you.”

“I pushed you away.”

“I should’ve known better.”

“You couldn’t.”

“I love you.”

You froze.

You had said you loved each other countless times before, but it sounded so different this time. You felt it was different. You felt it had more meaning behind it.

Or were you overreading it?

You didn’t care.

“I love you too,” you said, hoping he would feel the same thing you felt when you heard it from him.

The sadness you had seen in his eyes minutes before was now gone. It was replaced by a sparkle you hadn’t seen in over a year, the same sparkle he had in his eyes when his pranks worked the way he wanted.

George slowly took your hand in his and started playing with your ring.

“I-”

“George! Over here! We could use some help!” Bill waved at his brother from across the yard. You both looked at him, realizing that the men were setting the tent for the wedding.

“I should go there,” he sighed. “Or maybe I could use my injury to stay here,” he looked at you as if he had just had the most brilliant idea.

“No,” you chuckled, letting go of his hand, “It wouldn’t be right, they need your help.”

“I knew you would never be the same again after becoming Head Girl,” he shook his head.

“Hey!” you protested, “You didn’t even see me in action.”

“But I’d bet a hundred galleons that it was something like this,” he smiled, “Always playing by the book, never having fun...”

“I had my fun,” you shrugged it off.

“Sure.”

“I did!”

“Okay.”

“Weasley!”

“Don’t say it too loud, otherwise everyone will answer,” he smiled, “And I don’t believe you. I don’t think you had fun without me.”

“You are so entitled, aren’t you?” you shook your head in disbelief, but your smirk contradicted your line. “Go set the tent.”

“Will you still be here when I come back?” he asked, half-joking.

“Always,” you replied truthfully.

********

Bonus Part

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fic #george weasley angst #george weasley fluff #fred weasley #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #hogwarts #gryffindor #slytherin #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #random tag #i'm stupid

2K notes · View notes

feistypaants-archived · 4 years

Text

Between The Pipes [Chapter 32]

Rating: M Words: 2650 Pairing: Kristanna Summary: When a new owner takes over the Arendelle Ice Breakers, Kristoff isn’t sure about his future with the team. That is, until a PR nightmare throws the newest member of the media team, who also just so happens to be the daughter of the new owner, right into his arms. Kristoff and Anna can’t even stand the interviews they have to do together… how on earth are they going to fix this mess? Hockey!AU.

[Chapter Index]

Where To Read: [AO3]

Notes: I think you've all waited long enough for this chapter, and I'm so, so grateful to all of u for sticking around through all the nonsense.

We're almost to the end here, lads. Thank u for coming along this journey with me :')

Enjoy!

It had been two days and no other symptoms had arisen, so Kristoff felt pretty safe to start doing some light activities. He set a silent alarm, got up at the crack of dawn, did his best not to wake Anna, and then headed out for a short, slow walk around the neighborhood. The brisk air was doing wonders for him, and he felt a sigh of relief wash over his whole body as he took in a deep breath.

He was so, so grateful for Anna, but she had become just a little bit on the side of unbearable over the last few days. At first it had been cute - a little tease and a little game. If the list said no, she said no. He’d pout and she’d kiss him and he’d let her win the disagreement, then she’d kiss him again and say thank you and he’d let it go. But then he told her he had been feeling a lot better - his headache was easing, there was no more dizziness, and he was able to stay awake for much longer intervals. But she was still insistent.

The thing was, he’s had worse injuries than this, and he always worked through them alone. It wasn’t that he didn’t like having this wonderful woman doting on him, but he felt… guilty. There was no need for it, he was fine, and Anna had her own things to worry about. There wasn’t any reason she should be focusing so much of her attention on him.

He had even tried yesterday, to ask how she was feeling - what she wanted to do, if she wanted to talk about it. But she had shut him down saying there would be time to talk about it later, really, and he should just worry about getting better. Kristoff dropped it because he wasn’t sure if it might lead to an argument, but she seemed relieved so he supposed he had made the right choice.

After about an hour, the sun was fully risen and his neighbors were starting to emerge, so Kristoff figured it was just about time to make his way back home. He hadn’t taken two steps through the doorway before he heard her feet running on the wood floor. “Hey ba-- Anna?”

She had tears in her eyes and her hands were on his face and she was frantic as she scanned her eyes up and down his body.

“Anna, baby, what’s wrong?”

“I… I didn’t know where you were.” She swallowed and locked her eyes onto him, panic evident. “I woke up and you were gone I… I was so worried. Are you okay?”

He felt his hackles raise. This was bordering on ridiculous. “Come on, I just went for a walk.” He grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands to rest between them. “You’ve got to calm down. I’m not going to die.”

Her brows furrowed as she looked at anything but him and he felt a small hint of guilt seep into his irritation. “I…” she pulled her hands from his grip and crossed them across her chest. “I know, I… I just…” More tears welled up in her eyes as she tried her best to subtly wipe at them. “You were so motionless. You didn’t move. I thought… I didn’t know…”

Ah, fuck.

Immediately moving forward, Kristoff pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m sorry.” He knew how it looked, how it felt, to watch someone you cared about get hurt like that. He should have known she had some reason to react the way she had been. He should have been more aware. He sighed with relief when her arms tightened around his waist. “I’m sorry, baby.”

Over breakfast that morning, after they had talked through her worries a little more, Kristoff simply grinned and said “you know, they recommend light exercise. Nothing strenuous, but as long as it isn’t making things worse, doctors think it helps concussion recovery.” Her eyes narrowed and he shrugged. “You should come with me. Then you’ll know I’m good.”

Anna had twisted her lips to the side as if to stop from smiling, and nodded. “I’d like that.” Then, after a moment of hesitation, “you’re okay with me coming along? I know… I know I’ve been a lot… I’d understand if you wanted some time alone.”

Kristoff felt something in his chest, felt an absolute warmth spread through his veins as he realized that, fuck, he never wanted alone time. Not anymore. Not from Anna. Everything was better by miles when she was with him.

“No, Anna. I always want you around.”

Her eyelashes fluttered as her cheeks darkened and a soft smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “... Okay.”

It hit him then, as she popped a forkful of pancake between her lips, still smiling up at him with a new glimmer in her eye, that he was ready. He was so fucking ready because any more time spent with Anna not knowing how much he loved her was time wasted.

But he needed it to be perfect. He needed the day, just the rest of the day, to figure out what he wanted to say. Then he’d tell her tonight over dinner and…

He just hoped she’d say it back.

—

Kristoff had been feeling a little run-down so he had settled in for a quick nap after their late lunch. He knew the both of them and knew very well that they wouldn’t actually go to bed until after midnight, so he figured a short little power nap at three wouldn’t hinder his ability to sleep tonight too badly. But he couldn't sleep anyway. His mind was going too quick and it was too frazzled to even attempt to settle down.

Maybe the focus and stress weren’t exactly good for him, but he could only imagine how much better he’d feel once she knew. He had been hiding it for months, locking it away somewhere he only knew, and it was about time he let her in on the not-so-little secret.

The problem was, how on earth was he supposed to tell her?

He couldn’t be casual about it, not now. The three little words were so important to both of them, and he knew he couldn’t just drop a nonchalant I love you. It wouldn’t be enough.

No, he had to tell her how much she changed his life. How much he admired her. How much she truly meant to him. And he had to do it in a way that didn’t make him sound so fucking stupid.

Kristoff dragged a pillow over his face and groaned. He had never been the best with words, not even when it really mattered, and he hated how much he knew he was going to fuck this up. How hard was it to formulate a coherent sentence letting someone know how truly special they were? How hard was it to just fucking tell a girl you loved her?

He could say, Anna, I know we’ve been dancing this line for months, but I need you to know that I love you.

No.

He could try, Baby, you’ve changed my life, and I’ve loved every minute of our time together.

Fucking no!

Anna, you’re the most beautiful, brilliant, amazing woman that has ever graced this earth.

Too much.

Anna, you’re the most spectacular person I know.

Better

I can’t imagine my life without you.

Close.

I’m in love with you.

Simple.

Good.

Throwing the pillow to the floor, Kristoff stretched just a little before he got out of the bed. He had a couple more hours to really nail it down, and he knew, deep down, that it didn’t matter what he said… It was the heart behind it that mattered most. With a sigh, he stepped back out into the hallway and padded down to the living room as quietly as possible. He was honestly surprised that he didn’t hear the television on. He was surprised that he didn’t hear much of anything, actually. Anna usually hated silence.

He peered around the corner, not wanting to risk waking her if she had fallen asleep, and was almost hurt by what he saw in front of him. She was sitting on his laptop at the table, red eyed and puffy cheeked, tearstained and sniffling as she scrolled downwards, wiping an irritated fist at her face. “Seriously?” she let out a heavy breath and rolled her neck back, jumping when she saw him.

“Oh, hi!” Her demeanor changed instantly. “You feel all right? How was the nap?”

“Anna.”

She pushed the chair out and turned her back to him as she wiped at her face. “Want some tea? I was just about to make some.”

“Anna.”

She darted into the kitchen, ignoring him completely. “Two sugar? Any milk? I like mine sweet but I know you’re not a sweets guy I just can’t remember if you want milk…”

Kristoff stepped forward and came up behind her in the kitchen, bracing one arm on either side of her petite frame. He was almost grateful she had stopped talking. He hated when she got avoidant and would do anything for her to just talk to him about what was going on. He leaned down just enough to rest his chin on her shoulder and press his cheek against hers. “Baby,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around her as she settled back into his embrace. “What’s going on?”

“I…” He closed his eyes when her fingers started scratching lightly against his forearms. “I’m worried that I won’t find a job, and if I can’t find a job, then I can’t afford my apartment, and if I can’t afford my apartment, then I have to move back home. And If I have to move back there, then my father was just right about me and about everything and then I’ll be far away from here and what if you only like me because I’m just here and if I leave what if everything changes and I lose all of you and --”

A hiccupping sob cut her off.

“Ah, jeez, Anna…” He started walking them towards the couch, smiling at her small laugh as he rocked her whole body back and forth as they walked. “All right, let’s…” They sat together, her immediately drawing her legs up to lay over his lap as she pressed her forehead into his neck. “Let’s talk this out.”

“Okay…”

Kristoff began tracing his fingers up and down her bare leg, every so often squeezing gently at her skin. “So… job.”

Anna sniffled.

“You didn’t really wanna do the whole television personality thing, right?”

She nodded.

“You’ve got a degree in… Graphic design, yeah?”

She nodded again, laughing. “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“Well,” he pressed a soft kiss against her hairline. “Things about you are hard to forget.” He smiled when she laughed, grateful for the positive reaction. “Right so… Is that something you wanted to do?”

She nodded. “I always thought I’d enjoy doing marketing and stuff like that. Or… like, concept work. I don’t know.”

“All right, well, why don’t you take some time then? Figure it out? You…” His arm wrapped around her back squeezed a little tighter. “You deserve to take time to figure out what you want, you know that right?”

A moment of silence and a nod.

“But… money… and my apartment…”

Kristoff shrugged, words tumbling from his lips before he even knew what he was saying. “I mean, I’ve got a spare room. You can just move in here for a bit if you want to. You…” Then it hit him, and he felt his whole face scrunch up. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

Anna was sitting up, her brows raised as she looked over his face, but he immediately turned his eyes to stare at the carpet. Fuck he was so fucking stupid.

“That… Do you mean that?”

He felt his cheeks grow hotter. “I mean. Yeah. If you want. And like, I’ve got the spare room so you’d have your own space. And you’re here most nights anyway?” Oh stop talking you idiot. “It’s, I mean, obviously,” a laugh, “up to you? But yeah I mean, it wouldn’t… put me out or anything and it would give you some flexibility? And… I don’t know. I just… yeah.”

Kristoff risked one glance up at her from the corner of his eye and felt like he was going to have a heart attack. He couldn’t read her, couldn’t even come close to figuring out what she was thinking.

“Can you say something now?”

Her palm was on his cheek and she was turning him gently to face her. “I’m…” She swallowed and let out a wet laugh before she smiled. “I’m going to say something and… And you don’t have to say it back, okay?”

Wait. Hang on. He was supposed to do this first. He wanted to be the first to say it, wanted to fucking say it before he asked her to fucking move in and shit, he was the worst at this.

He nodded anyway.

“I… am so in love with you… and I… shit.”

Kristoff let out a heavy sigh as he smiled. God, that was genuinely the most amazing thing he had ever heard in his entire life. He wanted to hear it over and over and fucking over again.

“I want to be with you all --”

“Wait.” He clapped his hand over her mouth before immediately removing it and apologizing at her shocked eyes. “Sorry. Okay, wait. I’ve… I messed this up.”

Her smile faltered just slightly. “... Do you not want me to move in? Because… that’s okay.”

“Oh, jesus, god, no.” He was shaking his head rapidly before realizing how dumb that was and that his headache had just slightly worsened from the movement. “No, I want that so much.”

Anna nodded, her eyes growing a little worried. “Okay. So…”

“I’ve… literally been trying to figure out how to tell you the same thing all day.” He pushed his hair out of his face and turned to look at her, the blush on her cheeks glowing under her freckles.

“... What?”

“You beat me to it. And I went out of order.” His hand lifted to scratch at the back of his neck. “I probably should have told you I loved you before I asked you to move in -- wait, god damn it.” He’d never get this right, would he?

“You love me?” That sparkle in her eyes was breathtaking.

“Fuck, wait. Of course I do. But I… was planning this whole… speech. Hang on.” He shifted them then, lifting one leg onto the couch so he could properly face her, and took both of her hands into his. “You’re… You’re genuinely the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met. Anna, you’re kind, and beautiful, and brave, and funny, and you… Well you put up with me which makes you patient as hell. And I… I never, ever thought I’d ever find this. But… it’s you. It’s only you. You’re perfect, and I don’t want to wait anymore. I’m… I’m not scared anymore, Anna. I am so, so in love with you I almost can’t bear it.”

He decided he had to be okay with how it happened. He wasn’t ever going to be perfect, but he knew he’d never meant anything more in his life.

And then her whole face contorted, and large tears started falling from her eyes, and fuck, he did it wrong, because now she was crying and sobbing and “Anna baby, Anna… What did I do wrong?”

She practically leapt off the couch, into his arms, and pressed her nose into his neck. “Nothing, god, you’re… you’re perfect. I love you so much.”

Fuck, he’d never get tired of that.

#btpfic #feistypantswrites

53 notes · View notes