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jisungsdaydreamer · 1 year

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Love Playlist #1: HOME (Han)

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME»

"For a really smart person, Jisung can be so dumb sometimes."

Pairing: Han x Fem!reader Genre: college au, friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, fluff, mutual pining Warnings: mild swearing Word Count: 7k

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You have three strict rules that you must follow. One, no going out after eleven. Two, never leave the house without your cell phone. And three, never, ever, fall in love with Han Jisung.

Unfortunately, you’ve broken that third rule already. In fact, you’re still breaking it, charring it to a crisp, and throwing it out like the trash you both begrudgingly take turns with. But how can you not? Because when it comes to your doe-eyed best friend who is serenely sitting in front of you, the whole rulebook is torn up.

Jisung quietly flips through his growing stack of manga, blissfully unaware of the way your heart accelerates whenever he reads a particularly entertaining segment and his eyes light up in amusement.You should remind him to stay on track, but you can’t bear to stop him because of how cute he looks, his legs unconsciously swinging under the table and his fifth banana lollipop of the day shoved into his mouth.

You’re both sitting together in the library at your special table beside the big window, the place that is always secluded no matter what, as if some higher power knows to keep it aside for you and Jisung for whenever you desire. Both of you are supposed to be studying for your finals, the objectively worst part of the entire year. You’re both seniors, so the slew of exams coming up should be a piece of cake for you, except both of you have grad school next year— you’ll be starting on your PhD, while Jisung, a computer engineering major, will be working towards a master’s degree— so you still have to worry about all of your final grades.

“I hate this.” Jisung looks up from the book in his hands, closing it shut. “I wish I didn’t have to do this.”

“It’s almost over. Then we’ll finally graduate and get to enjoy our summer,” you reply. “And then our lives begin.”

And the elation building in your chest is real, because although you have a tough couple of days ahead of you, the end of this year will be a testament to everything you have accomplished. You have your summer mapped out already; you’re going to be completing groundbreaking cancer research at an esteemed biologist’s lab, days filled with productivity along with exciting nights exploring adulthood and freedom with your friends. Even though you’ll still have school, you’ll only have to be doing what you’re passionate about, leaving behind the mandatory literature and calculus courses that brought you so many tears over the duration of college.

“Not for me.” Jisung sighs, leaning back in his chair and staring aimlessly at the ceiling. “It’ll never end.”

Lately, Jisung has become increasingly stressed about graduation. He doesn’t come from a wealthy background, with his mother being a grocery store cashier and his father out of the picture. You’re aware he’s under immense pressure to do well in school and then get a good job that will take care of both him and his mother, when she’s unable to provide for herself. Worst of all, Jisung had to ditch his dream of becoming a musician and instead focus on something more practical, which ended up being a profession in computers. Of course, like anything else he puts his effort into, Jisung excels in computer engineering, and he’s come to terms with giving up his passion, but you know it doesn’t hurt any less.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask softly, reaching for his hand. He accepts it, but he turns his head to gaze at the street beyond the window.

“It’s okay.”

You don’t press any further, because you know that it will just break him down, and neither of you can afford that right now at such a crucial time. Instead, you resolve to brighten his mood, like he does with you anytime you’re down. “Let’s just hope we don’t get food poisoning tomorrow.”

Your attempt works, because Jisung meets your eyes, a smile permeating his solemn expression and before widening into a full grin, at the memory of the time you both first met. Remembrance comes like the summer breeze you look so forward to, washing over you both like a tidal wave. And just like that, it’s freshman year and you’re standing at the bus stop near your old dormitory building.

You anxiously devoured the notebook pages in your hands, alternating between cramming the tiny text and scanning the road for the bus that was supposed to be here ten minutes ago. Your stomach ached from the food poisoning you contracted earlier that morning, an unwelcome byproduct of the dubious cauliflower and tuna tacos served at the dining hall the night before.

This was horrible timing too, especially because you had your first test of the academic year that day. When you should have been bent over your statistics notes, you were cooped up in the bathroom for the previous few hours, clutching the toilet bowl as you watched the clock above you tick menacingly.

You bounced on your toes anxiously, before a strange, squeaking sound met your ears. You whirled around to see a boy approaching you while struggling to pull a large, bulging suitcase along with him. He finally succeeded, collapsing onto the bus stop bench while coughing and wheezing up a storm that rivaled the ominous clouds in the sky. You reached into the side pocket of your backpack, pulling out your unopened plastic water bottle and handing it over to him.

He looked at your offering hand in surprise, before gratefully accepting. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes while he gulped down the cool water. You watched him finish the entire bottle with a dizzying speed and then recycle it in the bin next to the bus stop. The boy was lanky, sporting an oversized Pokémon t-shirt and battered sneakers, and overdue for a haircut, the locks flopping over his sweaty forehead.

“Thank you so much.” He said.

“Of course. What’s in the suitcase?”

The boy fondly ran a hand over the worn-out seams of the object of your curiosity. “I promised my roommate that I would give him all of my old books for his class project. I have no idea why he wants them, but then again, art students are weird.”

He looked up at you not even a second later, alarm in his eyes. “Unless you’re an art student! In that case, I didn’t mean what I said.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “No, I’m a biology major. And yes, I agree.”

He beamed. “I’m Han Jisung. First year, computer engineering. Anime and cheesecake lover. Spicy food hater.”

“Y/N. I’m a freshman, too, and I also love anime and cheesecake. Chocolate cheesecake, to be specific. And I can’t stand spicy food.”

“Chocolate supremacy!” Jisung gasped, clamping a palm over his mouth. “This is meant to be.”

You let out a hearty laugh at his theatrics. “Exactly.”

At that moment, the bus finally arrived, rolling to a stop next to you both. You helped Jisung push his suitcase full of storybooks up the steps of the bus and into the aisle. You sat on one of the seats in the back, and Jisung followed suit, plopping down right next to you. As he did, you noticed him wince, clutching his stomach. Concern bloomed in you for this precious stranger that you just met.

“Are you okay?”

He clutches his stomach once more, smiling embarrassedly. “I got food poisoning. I should have known better than to trust the dining hall food.”

You pause, as the ironic delight of the situation sets in, allowing the pain to fade away and leaving you to wonder about the odds of meeting Jisung. “No way! Me too!”

Jisung’s eyes widen in surprise. “That’s destiny. Mutual food poisoning. Now we definitely have to be friends.”

Later, after you had exchanged numbers and plenty of laughs, parting ways at your respective bus stops, you would meet again at the university hospital. Both of you had contracted a salmonella infection.

Unbeknownst to you and Jisung, that delayed bus and salmonella would determine the trajectory of the rest of your lives. Over time, you both emerged from the shackles of a hesitant acquaintance to the kind of bond that never breaks, even with time, distance, or the grievances of being young. You witnessed each other grow up, fall in love and out of love, and get drunk on piña coladas at the bar next to the college gym you both pretended to go to regularly.

Somewhere along the way, after Loser Boyfriend Number Three, as Jisung tried to cheer you up with his horrible jokes and the burned brownies that he nuked in the residence hall kitchen microwave, you realized that you were wasting your time on people who weren’t worth it. Because the only person who was worth it was the one who had been by your side all the time. Jisung.

Betrayed by your treacherous heart, you began to see Jisung— your person, your study buddy, your fake fiancé when you both were trying to score free dessert with a restaurant proposal— as more than just a friend. In fear of your feelings potentially ruining your friendship, something more dear to you than any form of romance, as you so believed they would, you swore to never speak to Jisung of it. But you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore about the worst. You fell in love with your best friend.

“What did the farmer say after he lost his tractor?”

“I have no idea, Jisung.”

“‘Hey, where’s my tractor?’ Get it?” Jisung bursts out laughing, slapping his thigh. He doubles over, his whole body shaking with laughter at the unimpressed look on your face, which makes everything funnier for him.

“That doesn’t even make sense!” You exclaim, trying to push him. Jisung just keeps giggling, dodging you masterfully.

You both have given up on your library study session, resolving to take a break at your favorite coffee shop and meet up with the rest of your friends in your circle. The setting sun has streaked the blue sky with its golden rays and puffy pink clouds, enveloping the entire campus in a hazy glow. It’s a pleasant May evening, with the scent of your college’s famed peonies along with the excitement of Spring lingering in the air. The street lights that line the sidewalk are already turned on, but not many people are outside enjoying the weather, except for a few students playing a game of Frisbee on the athletic field. Everyone else is locked away in their rooms or the library, grinding for their upcoming exams.

“Well, I have a better one anyway.” Jisung states, clearing his throat dramatically.

You roll your eyes as you near your destination, an unassuming red-brick building tucked away in a larger complex of stores. Purple morningstar blossoms border the door of the small shop in clumps of dainty vines, no doubt the namesake of Morningstar Coffee House. Fairy lights are strung around the glass block windows, which offer a glimpse of the inviting warmth inside.

“Let’s hear it.”

Jisung jogs ahead of you and opens the door for you, gallantly gesturing for you to go first. “What did Y/N say to Jisung when they went to the coffee shop together?”

The comforting smell of pastries and dark roast coffee engulfs you as you step into Morningstar. The strung lanterns and groovy jazz music playing in the background welcome you like a hug from a long-distance friend. You can’t believe it’s been so long since you’ve gone anywhere other than the library, the lecture halls, or the tiny apartment you and Jisung share.

“I don’t know.” You humor Jisung, still playing along and waiting for his ridiculous punchline.

He smirks at you. “I love you a latte!”

You feign disgust, but secretly, you are elated because of how genuinely touching his words are to you. Jisung hugs you like a baby panda, trying to get you to applaud him for his clever joke, as Jisung is naturally a very physically affectionate person, always wanting to snuggle up to the people around him. But your heart can’t help but jump a little every time you feel his arms snug around you.

“Well, I love you a latte more, Hannie,” you respond nonchalantly, but you mean it. You do love Jisung for everything that he is, even the cringeworthy SoundCloud rapper phase that dominated his sophomore year.

“You guys are weird,” your friend Seungmin says from behind the counter, where he’s busy working as the barista, while his co-worker, Soobin, a timid Psychology student, clumsily handles orders at the cash register. Seungmin’s parents own Morningstar, and he plans to take over it next year.

Jisung sticks his tongue out at Seungmin in defiance, before linking arms with you and dragging you to the back, where the rest of your friends are seated. There is Chan, or more famously known as Chris among his many admirers across his campus, clad in his signature black jacket. Besides him, the turquoise-haired baby of your group, Jeongin, and then Hyunjin, who as usual, is lost in his sketchbook.

“Hey guys. What are you up to?” You slide in next to Hyunjin, trying to peek at what he’s drawing. You catch a glimpse of a very pretty girl you vaguely recognize from around campus, before he protectively snaps his journal closed, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Eyes on your coffee, Y/N,” Hyunjin says, handing you the mug that they ordered for you ahead of time. Magically, it’s still hot.

You accept the coffee and drink it, letting the rich liquid warm your insides as you swallow it gratefully. “Alright, alright.”

Jisung tries to steal a bite of Jeongin’s apple danish, earning him a swat on his wandering palms. Chan looks over at you with a grin. “We’re just listening to Jeongin rant about his crush.”

Jeongin groans before continuing. “And I keep asking her out, but every time, she rejects me, bro! What am I supposed to do? Give up?"

“Yes,” Hyunjin says in his signature straightforward manner, prompting everyone but Jeongin to snicker.

“Whatever. I'll figure out a way.” Jeongin sits back in his seat, resorting to aggressively typing on his keyboard to deal with his frustration.

You look around your little corner in the shop, which is filled with textbooks and miscellaneous notebook sheets. “Where are the others?”

“Minho is studying with his girlfriend, and Changbin and Felix are apparently also working, but they’re probably gaming instead.”

Hyunjin bites down on the edge of his straw, glancing between you and Jisung thoughtfully. “Speaking of girlfriend, when are you both going to get together?”

You freeze up in your seat, tensing like you always do whenever someone jokes about your relationship with Jisung, but he’s unfazed, shooting Hyunjin a mischievous smile. “When you tell us about that girl you’re obsessed with.”

Hyunjin immediately forgets about teasing you, glaring at Jisung contempfully. “Shut up, Han. You don’t know anything.”

“Guys, let’s calm down,” you say while patting Hyunjin’s back, happy for the distraction but still cautious about him and Jisung. While those two love each other very much now, they used to fight like crazy when they roomed together in freshman year, and no one needs a repeat of bad history right now.

Jisung catches your eye, and although he doesn’t smile at you, you can see the appreciation in his eyes. You nod slightly at him, before getting out your own computer. Words do not have to be exchanged between you two for you to understand each other.

You all settle into a comfortable silence as you finish your coffee and resume studying, only looking up occasionally to ask each other questions about the material or an assignment. Soon, the evening begins to fade away, and you start packing up your belongings before closing time.

“Hey, Y/N! Can you come over here for a second?” Seungmin calls out, capturing your attention.

You put down your backpack and walk over to the counter, where he’s washing his blender. “Yes?”

“So what’s going on with you and Jisung?” Before you can interrupt him and deny anything, Seungmin wipes his hands and gives you a meaningful look. “I know you have feelings for him.”

You feel your face heat up, and you avoid his piercing eyes. “How would you know?”

“Look, it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. From the way you look at him, it’s a marvel how he hasn’t figured it out yet. For a really smart person, Jisung can be so dumb sometimes.”

You exhale, seeing no point in lying anymore. Besides, it feels good to get it off of your chest. “Well, why are you bringing this up anyway?”

Seungmin sets down his utensil caddy and rests his elbows on the edge of the sink. “Soobin likes you and asked me if you’re single. But, you know, I wasn’t sure if you are available. Emotionally, I mean.”

You glance over at Soobin, observing him counting all of the day’s revenue. The blonde cashier catches your eye, flashing you a shy smile before quickly looking away, turning a shade of tomato red. He’s handsome, good-hearted, and not to mention, very tall. Just your type. But he’s no Jisung.

“It’s been a while since I’ve dated anyone.” And this is true— over a year, to be precise. “I guess, I’m still hung up over Jisung.”

“Do you plan on making a move?”

“No way. I’m just going to wait for the feelings to dissipate. I would never risk our friendship like that,” you mumble.

“You could get to know Soobin, maybe he’ll help you move on,” Seungmin suggests, crossing his arms.

You consider your options before piping up. Jisung had gotten pretty serious with his last girlfriend by the end of your junior year, but he broke up with her a month later, telling you that she just wasn’t the one for him. He hasn’t dated anyone since, claiming that it’s not the right time. But for you, it is, and you realize that you can’t keep waiting for him.

“Maybe I will,” you say, toying with your jacket zipper.

Seungmin tips his head towards Soobin, but before you move, he leans in closer to you. “But personally, I think you should just tell Jisung. If he’s really your best friend, your friendship will stay the same no matter what.”

You nod. “Yeah, okay.”

You know Seungmin is right, but the truth is, it’s not just about losing your friendship with Jisung. Regardless of whether he reciprocates your feelings or not, you know that he would never walk away from you. It’s truly you who you are concerned about. You’re uncertain if you could bear to go back being your normal self around Jisung if you confess and get rejected. You don’t know if your heart could handle it.

You touch Seungmin’s hand in a quiet gratitude and approach Soobin, who immediately notices your presence and accidentally slams the cash register drawer closed, nearly shutting it on his finger. “H-hi Y/N.”

Watching Soobin get endearingly flustered, you can’t help but smile. “Hey Soobin. How are you?”

“I’m good, thank you.” Soobin bites down on his lip, wrapping his arms around himself. He looks so cute in his brown bib apron and converse shoes. “You look really pretty in that dress.”

Your cheeks warm, but you look him directly in his eyes. “That’s so kind of you to say. Actually, I was hoping you'd want to go out on a date sometime? Maybe after finals?”

Although you’re very reserved about your feelings for Jisung, in every other case, you can be quite forward with romance. Soobin’s eyes widen. “Wait, really?”

You laugh, getting out your phone. “Yes, really. What do you say?”

“Yes! I would love to. Could I please get your number?” Soobin stretches out his phone, which is covered in teddy bear stickers.

You think of Jisung’s phone, which has a clear case and a polaroid of you two at the beach inside. You shake the thought of him away. You type your number into Soobin’s phone, before wishing him good luck on his finals and then rejoining your friend group in the darkening outdoors, which has moved outside the shop while you were talking to Seungmin. As soon as he spies you walking out of the door, Hyunjin forgets his conversation with Jeongin and immediately launches into interrogating you.

“What were you talking to Soobin about?”

You shrug, trying to play it off, but can’t help the rosy blush that creeps up your neck. “Nothing, really.”

Now the others look interested as well, and Jeongin smirks knowingly at you. “You asked him out, didn’t you?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see Jisung’s smile falter, but you chalk it up to your own imagination and affirm Jeongin’s prediction. “Yes, but it’s pretty casual. So not a big deal.”

Chan and Jeongin both high-five you like seventh grade boys, while Hyunjin just cackles at your sudden agitation. Jisung, however, looks annoyed, a very new color on him.

“I didn’t know you were interested in Soobin,” he says, shutting Hyunjin up. “Why didn’t you tell me? You always tell me when you like someone.”

You know the answer to his question. But you can’t tell Jisung that the only reason why you asked Soobin on a date out of the blue is because you are in love with him and trying to move on. “Seungmin just told me that he had a crush on me. So I went for it.”

“Yeah, everyone knows Soobin likes you. But you could have told me first before making a move.” Jisung’s tone is slightly harsh, suspicious. You recoil in surprise, because he has never spoken to you like this, unlike the boy you know and love.

“Why are you getting so mad?” You ask him, hurt.

“It’s just that we tell each other everything, and this is pretty big.” Jisung crosses his arms stubbornly. “Unless you didn’t want me to know.”

Your skin prickles with a strange feeling, because while you two have bickered over stupid things in the past, it wasn’t anything serious like the look on Jisung’s face now. “What’s your problem, Jisung? What did I do to you?”

Your voice is raised, and boys instantly sense the tension in the air, stepping in to mediate. Chan, the eldest in the group, places a hand on Jisung’s shoulder, mutely imploring him to stay calm. Hyunjin, however, gets defensive on your behalf.

“Why should she have to tell you? Calm down,” Hyunjin says, frowning at Jisung.

“It’s okay, Hyunjin. We should get going.” Without waiting for an answer from the others, you grasp Jisung’s hand and pull him with you, while he comes along without saying anything at all.

The walk back to your apartment, which is seven minutes long from campus, is filled with an uneasy silence, a dreadful change from the playfulness earlier in the day. The air is charged, full of everything you both want to say to each other, but nevertheless, you keep your mouth closed. More than anything, you’re confused.

It’s been a long time since either of you were with anyone romantically, so maybe it is surprising to Jisung that you randomly asked Soobin out. However, you don’t understand his anger, especially because Jisung has always supported you in your dating life, even setting you up sometimes with people he knew. But you don’t think the problem is the fact that it is Soobin either, because Soobin is one of the most beloved people on campus due to his sweet personality. You don’t know what’s wrong, and that’s what bothers you the most.

Neither of you speak even when you reach your neighborhood, a suburban oasis in a big city. When there’s good weather, you and Jisung love to come outside and either take long walks around the block or pack picnics to share on the perpetually green lawn in front of your apartment building. Today, you head straight up to your flat, an indifferent pair of strangers standing in the elevator.

After unlocking the door to your apartment, you finally decide to break the silence, turning to look at Jisung, who trails a few feet behind you. “I’ll be in my room, studying.”

You want him to say something, anything, but he just nods, keeping his eyes trained on the grey hardwood flooring. Sighing, you pad across the apartment and enter your room, shutting the door you always keep open.

You and Jisung had signed a lease on your place last year, partially because you couldn’t afford off-campus housing on your own, but also because you couldn’t imagine a better roommate than him. People made plenty of comments about how you both— two people of the opposite gender— renting an apartment together would be a recipe for disaster.

While Jisung had assured you that everything would be alright, the weeks leading up to move-in day were filled with apprehension for you. But unlike what he believed, it wasn’t because of what others said. The thought of you and Jisung living together made you worry if proximity could potentially make it easier for him to realize your feelings for him.

However, when the big day rolled in, you couldn’t remember any of your fears as you and Jisung sat in your new apartment, leaned against a pile of half-opened luggage. Exhausted from dealing with delayed furniture shipments and sorting through the endless boxes of belongings, both of you had given up. Resolving to lay on the barren floor and play Go-Fish, you both laughed for hours about the annoyed look on the grumpy mover’s face when Jisung kept asking him questions. Before Jisung subsequently fell asleep on your lap, he promised you that you both would make a lot of good memories here. And you did.

Last Christmas, you both spent it together, huddled on the couch while gossiping and drinking hot chocolate, because both of your flights got canceled due to snow. Then there was the time Jisung forced you to stay awake with him all night because he was scared after watching some bad slasher film, but you told him Disney bedtime stories that eventually made his fear go away.

You can’t help but feel a small pang thinking of whenever he brings you strawberry shortcake from the bakery you like, or all of the times he spam calls you when you’re out late and haven’t informed him. You’ve never fought with Jisung like this, not without him immediately coming after you and begging you to forgive him, even if he wasn’t in the wrong. Being distant with Jisung is a new feeling, and you don’t get how you could ever accomplish that with your best friend in the whole world.

Shaking off your incessant thoughts about Jisung, you turn on your computer, hunching over on your desk in the artificial glow of the screen. You still have a few chapters of reading to get through, and then you have to solve ten long practice problem sets for Chemistry. For now, you’ll have to put off the deliberations that pull at you.

“Y/N.”

You feel someone shaking you awake, gentle hands coaxing you out of an uneasy nap. You lift your head from where it rests on your arms, blearily looking up from where you are slumped over your desk. Your laptop has fallen asleep, the dim glow of your lamp lighting up the room instead. And the blaring, unwelcome red of your digital clock signals an unfortunate time well past twelve. Rubbing your eyes, you finally notice Jisung hovering beside you hesitantly.

“I thought you’d want me to wake you up,” Jisung says, his hands shoved into the pockets of his pajama pants. “I’m sorry.”

He’s wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up snugly over his head, a few soft pieces of hair messily sticking out from underneath. He looks so cute you want to hug him, but then you remember the events that transpired before you accidentally fell asleep.

“It’s okay. I need to finish working, thanks,” you say dully, both tired from studying and being stuck in this bad day with Jisung.

He shakes his head. “No, I mean, I’m sorry for earlier. At the coffee shop.”

You bite your lip, melting at the regret and sadness in his eyes. Your best friend misses you too. “Can we talk?”

Jisung stays quiet before speaking, and you swear he can probably hear your anticipating heartbeat filling the room. “Are you hungry? We didn’t have dinner.”

He doesn’t answer your question, but you still fold at the thought of how he didn’t eat without you. “Yeah, I am hungry.”

“I’ll make us something.” He turns and heads into the kitchen, and after a second thought, you hurry after him.

Jisung takes off his hood and brings out a metal pot out of one of the cupboards. You watch as he rummages hastily through the fridge, before he shuts it with empty hands. He turns to you with a sheepish look on his face. “So we don’t actually have any food.”

Realization passes between the both of you: in the past few weeks, you both were so immersed in your preparation for your exams that you had completely neglected buying groceries, opting instead for easy pre-cooked meals or food deliveries. Your stomach rumbles loudly, and you rub it, embarrassed, but at least it breaks the tension, as Jisung snorts, an amused look on his face.

“We could go to the store and get something,” he suggests, from where he stands behind the kitchen island.

He fidgets nervously, a reminder of how any other time, you would have jumped at the opportunity to ditch your books and buy cheap junk food with Jisung. But now? You don’t want to go out. You want to stay here, you want to talk to your best friend, you want things to go back to how they were before your fight with Jisung. And yet, you nod your head in agreement, grabbing your apartment keys and wallet from the counter before following Jisung out of the apartment.

The hallways of the building are tainted a vivid yellow from the incandescent lighting, a sharp contrast to the gloomy night outside. The moon is high up in the sky, shrouding the sleepy apartment complex in a silvery glow. There’s no one outside except for a homeless man dozing on one of the benches lining the walkways. But the distant city lights tell you that not everyone slumbers, that outside of your bubble, people have their own lives and stories. The only story that matters to you, however, is the one with the beautiful boy who walks beside you, his step heavy and eyes downcast.

In a matter of wordless minutes, you and Jisung have arrived at your go-to place for midnight runs, a sketchy little convenience store peeking out from behind a cluster of drab office buildings. The neon lighting of the store glows in the dark and reflects in the pools of water left by a mild rain that had graced the land while you were sleeping.

Jisung quickly walks ahead of you and opens the door for you, a blast of air conditioning granting you solace from the humidity. The familiar sight of the plentiful arrays of colorful aisles and the broken fan hopelessly creaking by the entrance pulls you in. You scour the shelves of mouthwatering foodstuffs, before settling in front of one of the sections.

“I don’t know if it’s a noodles or sandwich kind of night,” you wonder out loud, picking up a pack of ramen. You don’t notice Jisung standing behind you, as you assume he’s already zeroed in on the ice cream freezer like he always does.

“Definitely ramen.”

You jump, hugging the packet to your chest as if it would protect you from the perpetrator. Jisung innocently watches you, a small smile playing upon his lips. He holds two wrapped popsicles in his hands, one melon-flavored and one mango-flavored, and stretches the latter out to you. You accept it, returning his smile, and it feels like things are normal again. You know you should bring up what lies unspoken between you two, but you want to preserve this moment for now.

Jisung selects ramen for himself as well, and you both go to the front counter to check-out, failing to exchange any more words as you both just continue to enjoy the calm. After, you both quickly exit the shop and start jogging in synchronization, remembering that a pile of work still awaits you. When you board the bridge that connects the rest of the city to the way back to your apartment, Jisung doubles over, panting.

You decide to take a break, walking over to the edge and drinking in the view. The blurred lights of the magnificent skyscrapers illuminate the midnight sky like lightning, and the river in front of you is littered with cargo ships peacefully gliding along on their separate journeys. You lean against the railing, closing your eyes and letting the wind ruffle your hair. Jisung comes up behind you once more, but when he speaks this time, it’s less of a surprise and more of a comfort.

“Everything is changing,” he says, resting his hands on the railing as well. “I’m scared.”

You open your eyes, turning to face Jisung. His eyes are filled with tears, and your heart reaches out for him. You tightly grasp his hand, trying to convey everything you can’t say to him.

“Talk to me. Please.”

“I’m not ready for all of this. Graduation’s getting closer, and I know you’re excited but… I don’t know, I still feel kind of stuck.” Jisung’s gaze fixates on one of the boats below. “Every time I type out a line of code, I want to smash my keyboard into bits. Every goddamn time.”

His words are strong, but his voice is rough with emotion.

“Jisung, don’t do this if it’s not what you want.”

“We’re literally graduating in a month, Y/N.” Jisung lets out a disbelieving sound. “But that’s not even a concern, because my grad school actually offers a joint program on computers and audio design for engineering students who want to go into music production. But I couldn’t do that, because you barely get paid unless you make it big.”

You frown, setting down the plastic cover of your food. “Well, why not? If anyone could break out, it’s you.”

Jisung shrugs, shaking his head. “I can’t take that risk. Just plain old computer science is the way to go.”

You stay quiet for a second, keenly observing his despairing expression. “Your mom would want you to be happy, Hannie.”

“I could be happy, maybe, one day. But not right now.” Jisung runs a hand through his hair, not meeting your eyes. “You’re moving away next year for your PhD, and I’ll still be stuck here, in a place where you aren’t there.”

“I’m only two hours away. You can get away from campus and visit all the time. We’ll be like the Kardashians taking on a new city!” You crack a watery smile.

Jisung sniffles sadly, and your heart sinks, because you failed to make him happy. Again. But then he looks up at you, a glimmer of humor in his eyes. “Only if I get to be Kourtney.”

You laugh, shoving him in the arm. “Fine.”

And then you both say nothing again, just gazing out at the world beyond this bridge and instant.

“What happened today?” You break the silence— questioning, not accusing.

Jisung groans. “It’s… look, I know we’ve both dated before, but none of them were it. And maybe you never felt that way, but I know for a fact that none of the guys you dated were right for you.”

“Jisung—” you start, but he interrupts you.

“And we’re graduating soon. So I thought you’d realize it by now.” Jisung taps his foot like he always does when he’s nervous, and your pulse quickens at his halting words.

“Realize what?” You ask him softly, trying not to come to any conclusions but betrayed by the treacherous beat of your heart.

The tips of Jisung’s ears turn red. “I- I need you to not say anything. Because I need to say something. And if you don’t like what I say, then I’ll walk away and we can forget everything that transpired here. Okay?”

You maintain your serious expression, although you want to swoon at his adorably flustered state. “Okay.”

Jisung is about to finally reveal what has gotten him so worked up, but then he sighs in frustration, shaking his head. “No. I can’t do this with you looking at me. Can you please turn around? Please?”

Hiding a smile, you oblige him and face the other way. “Okay. I can’t see you now.”

You hear Jisung take a deep breath.

“I’m never going to get this right. Y/N, I like you. And I mean like-like you. Like, romantically. Everything about you, I like. Even your disgusting food combinations, I like. Your smile? Oh god. Don’t go on a date with Soobin. Go with me. I like you.”

Even though the past few minutes manifested Jisung’s declaration, you still whirl around, shocked. “Say what?”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “Seriously? I pour myself out to you and you need me to repeat it? You’re really something, Y/N.”

You smirk, stepping closer and looping your arms around Jisung’s neck. You take in how Jisung’s eyes have widened and how his lips are parted at such an intimate gesture from you, wondering if this is how it feels in the movies, when the heroine finally gets the boy she’s been loving from a distance for so long.

You look up at Jisung, and your heart has never felt so happy. “I guess this is my time to be vulnerable too. I don’t just like-like you, Jisung. I love you.”

It’s Jisung’s turn to be surprised. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah. For a very long time.”

He smiles bashfully, his elation at your own confession evident. “I love you too.”

Jisung tilts his head to his right, as you do the same, almost about to close the miniscule space between you both. And then he pulls away.

You watch Jisung, confused, as he covers his face with his palms, shyly giggling. “I’m sorry, it’s just that I dreamed of this for so long. Can you give me a second?”

Never able to get enough of his antics, you watch as he pulls a stick of chapstick out of his pocket and swipes it on. He dabs his lips carefully before turning back to you.

“Now where were we?”

Before you can even say anything, he’s closed that gap. His lips are soft and sweet, the taste of cherry and vanilla chapstick lingering. You close your eyes and melt into the kiss as Jisung brings up his hands to cradle your face. The sweet scent of him clouds your senses and washes away your inhibitions, and there’s nothing besides you both in this moment. He kisses you like there’s no tomorrow, no exams, no school or anyone else. He kisses you not like a friend, but a lover that he’s yearned for, which certainly wouldn’t be a lie.

You can’t believe that you’ve been pining after Jisung for the mere duration of your college years. It feels like you’ve waited your whole life for this. The murky puddles of water around you and the pungent stench of a nearby dumpster are nowhere near romantic, but with the way you’re kissing Jisung, you might as well be in heaven.

If you dare to predict the future, you’ll have the rest of your life to look forward to moments like this, miss him even when he’s laying in your arms, love him when you both slow dance in the refrigerator light at midnight. And because you’re two broke peas in a pod, you both will definitely conduct more fake proposals with each other when you go out to eat. Hopefully before the real deal. You’ll just have to see who pops the question first.

“Wow,” Jisung breathes against your lips. “My dreams have not done this moment any justice.”

You chuckle, leaning in for another kiss. “Mine too.”

But Jisung dodges your lips, making you scoff as he raises his eyebrows at you. “And what are you going to be doing about Soobin?”

“You should be nicer. Poor Soobin. I wouldn’t have to let him down now if you’d just told me all of this earlier,” you scold Jisung lightly, cupping his chin.

He pouts, swatting at your arms with the oversize sleeves of his hoodie. “Never mind. Let’s stop talking about him.”

You roll your eyes playfully and wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him closer. You’re sure that the lovesick look on Jisung’s face mirrors your own. He may not be perfect, but he’s perfect for you. Your best friend in the whole world. And whatever the future holds, that will never change.

“I love you, Hannie. Love you so much,” you whisper, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. You’ll never, ever get tired of kissing him.

Jisung smiles down at you lovingly, slipping off his hoodie to put it on you, noticing the way you shiver. But you’re not really that cold; it's the way he’s looking at you right now. Not that you’d tell him that. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” You ask, still in a dreamy daze. This day has turned out to be better than any other you’ve ever had. Everything was worth it.

“Home.”

Check out the rest of boys' stories on Love Playlist!

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reverieaa · 1 year

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I need your guidance, i am a college student. I have been in loa tumblr since 2021, and i have been dealing with this problem since then.

you see, i am manifesting a completely new life for myself where i am not in uni anymore. But to make a state dead is to turn your attention away from it, how can i do that when i have to deal with uni everyday? how can i do that when i think of exams, homework, attending classes blah blah blah..

i used to be really good at studying and get extremely good grades when i did not know about the law. why? because i desired to live a different life for myself away from this home and the only logical to do so was to push myself in school. due to that, i am now in a major i absolutely hate because it was the best thing available to start a career with a steady income.

why am i mentioning this? because since i found out about the law my grades started getting bad. I do NOT want to push myself anymore. why would i? i absolutely CANNOT stand studying anymore, why would i push myself and put hours upon hours onto something that won’t matter anymore when i manifest my dream life…?

that was the “logical explanation” i told myself every time i got a bad grade. but the thing is.. my dream life hasn’t “manifested” yet.

consequently, i was extremely DESPERATE back in 2022. i tried everything under the sun to manifest my dream life whether that was in summer break before uni, i tried time crunches, working on my self concept, the vo*id.. i even deleted subjects because everything was so overwhelming so i deleted them to focus on “my manifesting journey”…

i feel like this ask is all over the place. but everything i mentioned was to better explain my situation. you may ask “if you’re manifesting your dream life and that doesn’t include being in uni why are you worried about your grades…?” because i am afraid. what if my grades become so bad that it do irreversible damage to my GPA while i still haven’t manifested my dream life????? I CANNOT turn my attention away from uni but at the same time absolutely hate it. I cant do it. so it makes sense why i would become so desperate and focus on time so, so much. I cant let go of time.

please, i am asking you help and guide me.

If it's one important advice I'd have to give, is do not ever ignore the 3D. I know it must be hard for you right now, but what you do in the 3D does not matter if u satisfy yourself within.

When Neville was in the army, he said he didn't want to be there. He wanted to manifest getting out and going home to his wife and daughter. He applied to be deployed but was denied, his superior told him if there's one person he'd like to go to war with it's him. What do you think Neville did?

He did nothing. He didn't break or accept that he was never going to make it home. He continued training and slept in a room full of other military men, In a small bed.

But in his mind he was not there, in his mind he said he was at home, with his wife and daughter. He accepted with no reasoning that he was already released and at home. He said in his mind he was in ecstasy, happy and relieved even if he knew physically he was in tbe military bc he was trained there everyday.

Soon after his superior called him to his office, and asked him if he really wanted to leave. Nevielle answered yes, and his deployment was approved. He packed his things and went home.

Do not ignore the way you feel, but do not accept ur 3D circumstances as the end. Go within you mind and stay there, to yourself u are the person u desire to be, afe u not? Who's going to say what u are and aren't in ur imagination.

The only way to satisfy yourself is within, nothing is going against u and the faster u realize that, the more power to you. To me it doesn't matter what the 3D shows, if I'm feeling good within bc that is what u desire. Your oiter reality is only a reflection of your mind and it's contents. Do not sabotage yourself and ignore the 3D and what's given to you in it, that only worsens things for u.

It's not your responsibility or business for things to show up in your reality or when. U need to learn how to be observant of your 3D rather than a reactor of it, it is possible.

I wish you the best, not only with loa but school in general. Please don't just completely ignore ur 3D and view as sth going against you or as bad, it is a gift for u to enjoy your manifestations. I hope this helps and that u don't stress yourself so much. There's time for everything.

#law of assumption #affirm and persist #loa #manifesation #manifesting #neville goddard #3d #affirmations #loa methods #void state

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turntechgaykid · 26 days

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My bnha Rewrite/Redesign:

(*I will be trying to keep this as close to cannon as possible while still editing it to make the story and characters more intriguing)

in my Rewrite Izuku grew up in a small apartment in Japan with just his mom, in between their apartment building and the bakugo household was a school that both izuku and katsuki went to, where they bonded over their love of heroes.

When izuku turned 4 he learned he was quirkless, but katsuki developed a very powerful quirk and because of that and the prejudice against quirkless people they began growing apart, by the time they were in middle school katsuki began actively bullying izuku.

but one day after school izuku was attacked by a villain, luckily tho he was saved by pro hero: All might, tho in his attempt to speak to the hero he had grabbed all might as he was about to fly away.

quickly all might realized he was being held onto and landed on a rooftop, during this izuku asked him if all might thought he could be a hero even if he was quirkless. all might said no and left izuku there but what neither realized was that during the commotion the villain escaped and ended up attacking an capturing another kid, katsuki.

A while later near a business street, many heroes showed to try stopping the villain who'd now started a fire as well. izuku witnessed all this and rushed to try and save his old friend.

afterwards izuku is confronted by all might and offered his quirk but Izuku decides he is going to prove he doesn't need a quirk to be a hero.

Izuku (who spent his summer training/studying) gets high points in the practical exam but gets only rescue points in the entrance exam (he meets Ochako an Iida same as he does in cannon) so when he gets his acceptance letter from UA it's to join the support course not the hero course

(* Izuku being in the support course means he won't be there for the quirk apprehension test or the Battle trial arc with class 1A)

(He an Mei become fast friends) Izuku is present for the USJ attack tho, bc he overhears Ochako discussing it an, being excited at the chance to meet Pro heros: 13 & Eraserhead, decides to sneak onto the bus and join the class.

The villains arrive as they normally due, Izuku gets caught in the crossfire of Kurogiri's teleportation an ends up in a secluded area surrounded by villains, he manages to get away an decides to try an help Aizawa when he arrives at the central plaza tho he sees Aizawa trapped under a villain (nomu).

Izuku also sees a villain (shigaraki) leap at a girl (tsu) nearby, he moves quickly to push her out of the way almost getting attacked himself before both students manage to get away.

Finally all might and takes on the villain while the students get Aizawa to safety, All might is overwhelmed by Kurogiri and nearly teleported away before Katsuki jumps in and incapacitates him.

Shoto jumps in an uses his ice to assist while Katsuki notices Izuku an is pissed and confused then tho the nomu attacks, the students being rescued by all might. All might and the Nomu go ahead to head an Izuku begins to panic as he knows about all might's time limit. Luckily tho the heroes arrive just in time an force the villains to retreat.

Afterwards izuku is taken to the infirmary and while getting patched up is ripped a new one by Nezu, Aizawa & Power loader telling him he should be expelled for such reckless behavior, Izuku apologies an explains himself he then begs to join the hero course and brings up how he saved that girl from the villain. Aizawa an the others conced an agree that IF Izuku wins the upcoming Sports festival as well as stay out of trouble he can transfer.

Part 2

#bnha #bnha midoriya #bnha rewrite #bnha redesign #mha #mha midoriya #izuku midoriya #mha deku #black Izuku midoriya #quirkless au #mineta is dead

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bluebellebarrett · 1 year

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Poetry and Red Wine

There’s just something about Albert, swirling a glass of red wine with a sanguine air and a languid smile, that makes me think of poetry. It wasn’t a habit his father would have allowed him to indulge in, but once he was free, well. He was free.Think about it:

Albert, age 16, swigging red wine straight from the bottle in a dorm room at Eton, surrounded by adoring sycophants who called themselves his friends. It’s the end of the exam period, after all, a time for a little celebration, and when the other boys on the hall brought a bottle of cabernet as an offering, well. Who was Albert to say no?

“The gods envy us. They envy us because we are mortal, because any moment may be our last,” Albert declaims, gesturing wildly into the cloudy summer night with his free hand, the wine making his movements loose and sweeping. “Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed.”

Albert, 20 now, between his classes, makes time to wander Oxford in search of the best cafes; this particular one had become his favourite. The girls behind the counter stared and giggled behind their hands and stammered when they replied to him, stealing peeks and glances at him while he sat at his favourite table, just outside the plate glass storefront.

‘The Ocean has its silent caves, deep, quiet, and alone,’ Albert read, sipping from a glass of particularly complex merlot, the canopy over his table shielding him from Oxford’s autumn sun. ‘Though there be fury on the waves, beneath them, there is none.’

Albert is 22 when he is sent to India with the Army. He is good at this, at being at war. He has already murdered more wicked nobles than he could remember; the blood and violence did not reach him the way it seemed to touch his fellows. The main trouble was that his preferred French wines were harder to find there, though one of his old school friends manages to get his hands on some with relative regularity.

“In this short Life, that lasts only an hour,” Albert mumbled, collapsing back onto his camp bed, letting the empty bottle of Bordeaux fall to the ground in favour of covering his eyes to block out the memories of death and dying men. “How much - how little - is within our power.”

Albert, at 25, is something of a celebrity in London society. He knows he is handsome; enough women had told him so, making eyes at him over their fans. Enough men had told him so, pressing him against the nearest surface with furtive eyes and wandering hands. He is charming, too, and that he has worked on, intentionally. Any advantage he can give the Lord of Crime, he will. Which is what landed him here, in a glittering ballroom, seeking a glass of something tolerable, a reprieve from endless hollow niceties.

“How my soul hates this language, which makes life itself a lie,” Albert sighed, downing the whole glass of mediocre Syrah in a single go and preparing to smile at the incoming Viscount’s daughter. “Flattering dust with eternity.”

27 finds Albert knocking on the Director’s door at nearly seven in the evening, a bottle of rich pinot noir in the other hand. He could tell himself he was doing this for Will, for their cause, but was that true? He thought of Director Holmes’ dark, sharp eyes and huffed. It was perfectly respectable, of course, to visit one’s superior. And the Director let him in without a fuss, guiding him to the green velvet settee and accepting the glass Albert poured him. Mycroft was warm beside him, their thighs close to brushing. When he asks Albert why he has come, Albert can’t help himself.

“Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea; the cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape, with fold to fold, of mountain or of cape;” Albert declaimed, laughter in his voice, swirling the wine in his glass. “But O too fond, when have I answer’d thee?”

The Director watched him for a moment, that gaze dragging over Albert’s form in a way that sparked shivers down Albert’s spine. The Director raised his glass to his mouth, his eyes glinting over the rim. “A truth that’s told with bad intent beats all the lies you can invent.”

Albert does nothing but sip his wine, savouring the complexity.

(Albert quotes, in order: Homer, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Emily Dickinson, Lord Byron, and John Keats. Mycroft quotes William Blake)

#moriarty the patriot #mtp #albert james moriarty #alcroft #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #poetry #and wine #headcanon #mycroft holmes #Albert quotes poetry #and drinks wine #mtp albert

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ruershrimo · 2 years

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genshin impact x reader: genshin characters with types of weather

features zhongli, childe, barbara, xiangling

warnings: THIS IS SO BAD I’M SORRY, not proofread, please read it though I’m finally back from buying the milk

notes: I didn’t do well for my exams :(

zhongli: calm rain

He embodies not rain itself, but tranquil rain, rain that can very possibly become stronger, mightier, fiercer- but does not change. It stays calm, just like he stays undisturbed, and each pitter-patter is gentle and light against every surface, just like his tender touch against your skin as you gaze through the raindrop-coated window. It brings forth a gloomy yet not unwelcome sky- it reminds one of home, or comfortability, and you feel as if you’re letting it embrace you by snuggling your face in your lover’s chest. The rain outside is peaceful, not violent, and you could very much dance in it if you’d like. Though, with zhongli here with you, as the rain continues to fall softly, you decide to lie in the soft shadows of the rainy sky and soak in its calming coldness.

childe: heavy rain/thunderstorms

He is an influx of emotions rushing to your mind, the sudden battering of raindrops on the floor reverberating through your surroundings. Yet, the sudden disturbances leave you unperturbed, the chaos around you soothing you so as it mutes all threats to your mind’s state of peace where you can stay inside and do whatever you enjoy to your heart’s desire. Childe- no, ajax- frightens you yet again with a gruesome show depicted on his blood-stained features, appearing before you like a thunderstorm beginning to rage, yet as it rages on, he opens himself to tranquility, drowning in you.

barbara: “weak” sunlight (better to be read as platonic)

Though the sun may not be shedding many energetic rays at the moment, it still shines through the clouds behind it, more relaxing and elegant than it usually is. Barbara may be clumsy, but her fair smile paired with her mellow personality and voice shine through the messes that occupy your mind. Like lines of sunlight peeking through the deep layers of the ocean, barbara is always visible and is always there to pick you up and refresh you on a messy day. She is never too abrasive, yet her voice has the power to lull you to sleep as if casting a spell on you or wake you up from a long, peaceful slumber. Even as all light is threatening to be blocked out by the curtains, her voice is still able to refresh you while you enjoy a pleasant chat over tea with her once more.

xiangling: brighter sunlight (better to be read as platonic)

She is what you’re gleefully greeted with when you leave the house on a sunny afternoon. The rays of her smile seem to lay on your skin like a sheen of sweat during summer. She illuminates every moment she is present in, her glowing grin bringing a rainbow after a thunderstorm and her passionate personality accompanying the arrival of a new day after a tenebrous night. Her cooking places a smile on everyone’s faces- especially you- and every adorable smile of hers seems to light up the world around you. Just by getting a simple glimpse of her or a squeal from her after she creates a new dish, you feel like going outside to scavenge new ingredients with her.

#zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli x reader #ajax x reader #genshin ajax x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #genshin childe x reader #genshin barbara x reader #barbara pegg x reader #barbara x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin xiangling x reader #xiangling x reader #ruer writes

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wrappedupinbooksblog · 9 months

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Ease Your Feet Off In The Sea: Call Me By Your Name

During the hectic period of non-stop flashcards and mind maps, I had little to no time to sit down and pick up a book. I either simply had no time, or my mind kept drifting back to memorised Othello quotes and dates of Thomas Moore’s influence over the King, to put it short, the only thing I read for pleasure in those months were the finishing pages of Mendez’ ‘Rainbow Milk’ in a week I had spare between exams. Then suddenly as those final seconds ticked down on the watchful digital clock on the wall of the exam hall on my final exam, I thought to myself: now what? I suddenly had a very large void taking shape in me that I had never experienced- it used to be filled with revision, homework, or even after-school clubs- but now everything I new was gone.

I’m still in that limbo stage between A Levels and University, but with results creeping up and the need to catch up with what I’ve missed it’s been easier to secure my feet to the ground. To be honest, I think having nothing to do for weeks is the perfect medicine for a reading drought. As soon as the sun shone over the Monday following my last exam, I packed my bags with the essentials (books) and left for my grandparents’ home: the ideal slow-paced lifestyle. And I exploited every aspect of that.

Sat with my legs curled up on an old sofa and cup of tea in hand, I opened up my first novel in over a month: Call Me By Your Name. As one of my closest friends had described it, this book was the perfect way to dip your toes into the pool of summer as it began to warm under the Sun’s rays. Setting a certain scene in the hotel bathroom aside, Aciman’s portrayal of the yearning soul under the strain of a fruitful and erotically blooming summer was everything I could have asked for at this time. It was serene and meditative, like listening to Sufjan Stevens for the first time or feeling the grass between your toes, completely suspended in the unreality of summer and refreshing breeze of being alive. Immediately I was captivated by Aciman’s raw strip back as the reader was not only invited into the story, but inhabited Elio’s own flesh (I noted very early on that we do not learn Elio’s name until a considerable amount of the novel has been read- as if Aciman is demanding loyalty to the story or an empathy that can only be found by subjecting you to the penetrating emotion before you can become acquainted with his surface).

This story of first and seemingly lasting love scaling the lengths and depths of time was a perfect combination of everything I desired after such an intense period of academic upheaval: it had the simplicity of a young romance (its ease to follow and smooth transitional feel much like that of the cello harp duet ‘The Swan’ by Sebastian Comberti and Miriam Keough I am listening to as I write) but also the literary depth of a classic I was so familiar with studying on an academic level that I could not only walk on the shallow clear puddles of a pool left by a Casey McQuiston novel, but also submerge my entire being in the sensual, passionate, and religious depths of an ocean of tears shed by unpronounceable tragedy.

It has now been over a month since I tidied Call Me By Your Name back in the A section of my home bookshelf, but as I sit leafing back through the pages graced not so long ago and rereading passages highlighted with an appropriately peach felt-tipped ink has, beyond currents of obsession and fear, uncovered the site of my heart’s burial: set for eternity in a restless summer on the Italian Riviera where a powerful romance will bloom between seventeen-year-old Elio and his father’s house guest, Oliver.

#call me by your name #cmbyn #booklr

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bri-to-the-future · 10 months

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Summer Reading/Writing/Arting

Thanks to @jowritesfanfiction for the tag! :D

Rules: Follow the directions in bold

Describe one creative WIP project you’re planning to work on over the summer.

In April (i think?) i started drawing Doc and Marty together from every decade they visit (including some fandom ones like the 40s or unused ones like the 60s) and I’d like to finish that this summer. I’ll also be finishing McFly July of course!

Recommend a book

The Iron Trial by Holly Black and Cassandra Claire is the first book in my favorite series. It’s about this boy names Cal who’s father used to be a wizard but raised him to be deathly afraid of magic, so when the time comes for essentially an entrance exam for a magic school called the Magisterium (which is what the series is named after) he tries on purpose to fail it, but one of the teachers notice and he gets in anyways. It has a lot of interesting takes on magic, for example the magic is element based so consuming an element makes your magic stronger (ex pricking your finger then sucking the blood for its oxygen before doing air magic, which a student does to cheat at the entrance exam), but if you overdo it you can become an elemental monster. I dont wanna get into too many specifics, but there’s an incredible reveal in this first book that completely shapes the rest of the series and helps it stand out from other fantasy series.

Recommend a fic

If we’re talking BttF I’d probably recommend a bubble, bursting by @penny-anna . It’s not a super long read since it’s a one-shot but it completely altered my brain chemistry (and also made me cry at work so thanks for that lol). Again, i don’t want to say too much, but if you’re interested in seeing some of the darker/sadder implications of time travel or just want some fantastically written McFly family bonding, i 100% think this is the one. Outside of BttF the Pen Pals chapter of Curreeus’ TF2 Valentines Week collection is one I come back to a lot, it made two characters I’ve always been more indifferent towards incredibly fascinating, and the struggle with a second language is one i can’t relate to personally but the way it’s portrayed here is incredibly well done.

Recommend Music

(Please forgive me I just saw BttF the Musical and Book of Mormon the first time this weekend)

1. Hello, is Anybody Home? from Back to the Future the Musical

2. Future Boy from Back to the Future the Musical

3. Hello! from The Book of Mormon

4. Turn it Off from The Book of Mormon

5. Honeybee by Steam Powered Giraffe

Im gonna stop there before I start recommending entire albums, but thanks again for the tag! I’m not gonna tag anyone just cause I’m in a bit of a rush but anyone who wants to do this is welcome to ofc!

#tag game #summer creativity tag game #bttf #back to the future #bom #book of mormon #the iron trial #bri buzzes #idk why this got marked as mature???

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ash-and-books · 2 years

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Rating: 3/5

Book Blurb: A gorgeously atmospheric contemporary fantasy by the author of The Devouring Gray and The Deck of Omens.

Six years ago, three Long Island teenagers were murdered—their drowned bodies discovered with sand dollars placed over their eyes. The mystery of the drowning summer was never solved, but as far as the town’s concerned, Evelyn Mackenzie’s father did it. His charges were dropped only because Evelyn summoned a ghost to clear his name. She swore never to call a spirit again. She lied.

For generations, the family of Mina Zanetti, a former friend of Evelyn, has worked as mediums, using the ocean’s power to guide the dead to their final resting place. But as sea levels rise, the ghosts grow more dangerous and Mina has been shut out of the family business. When Evelyn performs another summoning that goes horribly wrong, the two girls must navigate their growing attraction to each other while solving the mystery of who was really behind the drowning summer…before the line between life and death dissolves for good.Beautifully written and just the right amount witchy, The Drowning Summer is a deliciously eerie story perfect for reading under a full moon.

Review:

Two ex-best friends, a murder mystery, and ghosts that have come back to haunt them. Six years ago three Long Island teenagers were murdered, their drowned bodies discovered with sand dollars placed over their eyes. Nobody knows who killed them and the murder is still popular to this day. Evelyn Mackenzie’s father was the main suspect... but his charges were dropped when Evelyn summoned a ghost to clear his name with the help of her then best friend who also happens to be a medium, Mina Zanetti.... but that summoning was the straw that broke the camels back and the reason their friendship ended. Evelyn had promised never to summon another ghost after what it did to Mina, causing her to become sick, throwing up for days, and landing in the hospital... but what Mina didn’t tell her was that from that day she has had nightmares of ghosts and it has left her with a permanent scar of a sand dollar on her arm. But years later... Evelyn has once again summoned a spirit, this time to help her clear her name after she got caught stealing and cheating on an exam for her boyfriend. Mina Zanetti comes from generations of mediums who use the ocean’s power to guide the dead to their final resting place. Mina dreams about not only taking over the family duties but helping her mom and getting into fashion school... but one night of trying to help her mom leads her to being nearly choked by ghosts and her sand dollar scar lighting up again, Mina knows that Evelyn has broken their promise and has once again summoned a ghost... and that Mina and Evelyn are in far more danger than they realized. Now both girls will have to face each other after years of silence and broken friendship to solve the murder mystery that broke apart their friendship if they want to make it out alive because ghosts have begun haunting them and things are only going to get worse. That means opening both of them up to each other again... and opening up the feelings that they might have for each other. I’ll be the first to say I really didn’t like either of the characters that much. the mystery was okay at best, but overall this one did not live up to my expectations, especially since I’ve liked the authors previous works so much. This was suppose to be a dark murder mystery with sapphic romance but it just felt kind of like an episode of Nancy Drew (from the CW). Overall, it was an okay summer read, though I definitely will be reading the author’s future work.

#book review #bookish #sapphic reads #lgbtq #sapphic horror

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narutocharacterpolls · 8 months

Text

ROUND THREE

ROCK LEE vs HYUUGA NEJI

Reasons for submission under the cut

Lee

ROCK LEE VS GAARA

kind as can be; willing to jump to action to help his fellow comrades even after going through a life-threatening, major surgery

practical and fashion-forward with his bright green onesie. Function over form, and is prepared at all times by carrying around a spare onesie he will give without question to anyone - even complete strangers

has a surprising edge to him at the beginning of the series; he was ready to severely maim anybody that he saw as a genius

more dedicated than anyone. Was forced to face his own mortality and make a life-or-death decision in the name of his dream, after a literal crushing defeat, and he chose to fight for it. Inspiring

embodies the ideals of original series Naruto. True underdog, had nothing going for him, came from nothing with no legacy or powers, was so disadvantaged that he physically could not meet the bare minimum abilities of his peers. But he worked harder than everyone else and proved that he can be a great shinobi despite all the adversity he faced

Sasuke had to copy Lee’s moves with his Sharingan to succeed during Chuunin exams

cute as a button. Come on.

his fans are dedicated and make amazing work, fanart and fanfic

Kishimoto said he was his favorite character to draw. Boom. Favoritism. Love to see it.

pairs well with everyone. Platonic or romantic, Lee has a great dynamic with other characters

his summer outfit from Guardian of the Crescent Moon Kingdom was the best outfit in the movie

gave us Metal Lee! Blessed us with Metal Lee, really

was the character to beat in the early series if you wanted to show how strong you actually are

Gaara vs Rock Lee was one of the most iconic fights in the series, and everyone remembers where they were when they first saw Lee drop his weights. He owned that fight so hard that people forget he lost.

was wronged by the series. He deserves to win as justice.

got [submitter] personally through the worst times; his ability to persevere face of adversity convinced me I could do it too. He wasn’t special and neither was [submitter], but we didn’t need to be. We can make ourselves great. If no one else got me, Rock Lee’s got me

he’s one of the first non-jutsu using ninja so make such a big impact

was the first person to actually harm Gaara

played a huge part in Gaara becoming a better person

he’s one of the only people that can catch up to Sasuke and easily rivals Naruto in Taijutsu

his kind, determined and cheerful attitude is a joy to watch

Rock Lee removing his weights is easily one of the most iconic moments in the entire anime

has helped several submitters feel better by simply thinking about how he wouldn’t want them to think like that

objectively would’ve made a better protagonist based on the themes alone

KICKS MAJOR ASS

wrecked Sasukes shit, I like Sasuke but that was really funny

he looks like a frog. Who doesn’t like frogs

inspired Sasuke

fights are always entertaining, they’re very well choreographed

he forgave Gaara for nearly killing him and nearly ending his dreams; he was never even mad at him

Rock Lee vs Sasuke was iconic

his heart is so full of love

never did anything wrong

had a squirrel befriend him

hard worker

good friend

rises to any challenge

when he does diss people they are the most brutal yet entertaining disses you ever hear

positive, weirdo, energetic, enthusiastic, joyful, chivalrous, motivated, dedicated, sweet

Lee and Neji had something homosexual going on

YOUTH !!!!

Neji

very tragic character

has so many layers

has a great arc (if you ignore the. yknow)

the eye imagery is very good

the inherent queerness of rebellion

carried the Hyuuga clan

awesome hair

disrecpected by the narrative

could've easily been a revolutionanist if the mangaka wasn't a coward

#bestnrtcharapoll #naruto #polls #rock lee #hyuuga neji #neji hyuuga #id in alt text

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chimney-cake · 5 months

Text

For the one person, who'd always made, makes and will keep on making an appearance in my books. For simplicity, let's call him Jack.

So.

For Jack.

So. Jack was quite something.

And I loved him. Honestly? I still do and I won't ever be over him. Never. I tried...

There's a thing that I love in English grammar: the difference between the past simple and the present perfect tenses. Even their names are telling you something. When you use past simple, you describe a moment that was. One moment, maybe repetitive, but it has no effect on the present. It's a simple event. On the other hand, the present perfect is used for 4 things: an event that hasn't occurred yet (I haven't seen the see yet), a recent event (I've just mopped the floor); and the other two are those I'd like to emphasize: a thing that started in the past and continues in the present (I've been living here since 1884), and a thing that happened in the past and has a consequence regarding the present(I've broken the neighbors' window). That's why I can say this:

He loved me, I've loved him.

And it's not that I want to. I've been trying for ages to forget Jack. But when we parted, he and I both disappointed me. I want to forget forever that the happiness we shared ended. But, and I hate the human brain for this, every time I experience a minor disappointment with anything, a barely passed exam, help I expected and didn't receive, I recall the heartbreak we caused me. Over and over again, more and more often, more than I'd like to admit.

I ran out of his time and of opportunities. And what really hurts, physically, that I had those, opportunities. Millions of them. (We've never been together together.) But nooo. I thought it's better I cut things off. So I did. Later on came another guy (let's not call him anything), and I realized I wasted energy, time and love on him after two years. During this two years I convinced myself that I loved him and he was the one for me. During this two years, I felt something missing, but it didn't even occur to me that it was Jack. During the second of the 2 years I wrote multiple poems about a bat that would comfort me in the darkness. When Jack and I chatted it was usually between 11pm and 3am. We just talked via the internet, several miles apart, yet so close to each other. Frankly, I filled in the empty space he's absence made in heart with poems I didn't even know were about him. I thought it was the other guy not being with me.

And after two years I realized. It was Jack. It was the dark prince of the Night and the Moon, and I was his princess he'd dance with at a wild, masquerade-macabre. I remember breaking down to tears when I saw the connection. I cried because of how stupid I had been. I could've use the years to step into the relationship but I spent them on a (now) priest.

Yes, a priest. The moment he told me planned on becoming one and he already enrolled. I felt stupid. I saw it coming yet I ignored it completely with all my conscience. When he told me, we were on the phone, so he couldn't see my reaction: I slumped into the couch like a sack of potato, with all my weigh and without any power. Of course, I congratulated him and was glad I was the third person he told. Excluding his parents.

That summer, I started texting Jack again. I exploded with euphoria as he texted back (immediately) for the first time in 2 years. And every night we chatted it was like drug. He was like drug. And, every morning, I woke up after a chat, I was so happy for the whole day.

But every night felt different than two years ago. It wasn't the same but wasn't less lovey. I decided to confess. We managed to find a place and time to meet at, and we talked and walked. We were walkie-talkies. For 4 hours we chatted about nothing and everything. But then we had to speak. I did, he did. He said he had time but not for me. Not for a romantic relationship. He said that he was selfish, he thought he was a bad influence on me and he wants to focus on his future.

In my mind I said "Boy that's what I want, I want to care for you, take care of you, to back you up, to help, love, admire, encourage, worship you. That's what lovers are for! To rely on each other! And I don't care about finance, I don't care if you're selfish, seriously, that's your only error! I want to rely on you emotionally, I know you can give my mind and soul support!... And I know you love me too." I know.

That was one disappointment.

But at that brilliant moment of extraordinary stupidity, I whispered:

"It's getting late, I should head home." That was the other disappointment.

He accompanied me to the bus stop and on the way there he asked what I expected regarding this meet-up. I told him I wanted honesty and I got it. I said I was sorry for not being able to talk about my feelings. It's very hard for me.

(I can write about it.)

He agreed.

The bus left and we haven't talked since.

And I'd like you to remember the paragraph about English grammar...

...I think this is why we say right person at a wrong time.

#fiction #heartbreak #right person wrong time #rant #that's why I write #short story

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kingvettel · 2 years

Text

« Silent Love »

Charles Leclerc

SUMMARY : you’re invited to Monte-Carlo for the summer break and things start changing between you and your best friend Charles.

Word count : 3.2k of soft Charles because I do whatever I want

You hadn't been to Monaco in over six months after moving to London for a students' exchange program. But your exams were finally over and you had planned to take a few months break before deciding which path to take for your career. And this little break included spending the first few weeks in your hometown with your childhood best friend, Charles. You two had grown up together but, soon, Charles' career made your time together almost impossible to plan as he was constantly travelling for races.

You still vividly recalled crying yourself to sleep at night when you were around fifteen and thinking your friendship would never survive the distance. You could still feel the intense twisting and crushing of your insides whenever you two would see each other after a few months, wondering if you just didn't belong in his life anymore because you didn't fit in the glamorous lifestyle that came with Formula 1. But the moment you always dreaded -Charles giving up on you, never happened and, in fact, your friendship grew stronger over the years.

Because, for the "Pop Star" of Formula 1, you were exactly the one he needed to stay grounded. You were like a breath of fresh air at the end of a suffocating and painful day. More than any of this, you weren't just someone to rely on when he needed to laugh or to feel better, you had just become his favorite person in the whole universe because you had never hidden behind a mask to impress him or keep him by your side. He had been there through all your highs and lows, just like you were there for his, and he was purely and simply in awe at who you had become after all the trials life had put you through.

You walked past the gates of the Monte Carlo train station and dropped your sunglasses from your forehead to your nose to protect your eyes from the bright sun as you squinted when you realized it was shining and flashing all around you. Quickly, you understood it wasn't the sun but cameras flashing from all over the sideway when you recognized Charles stepping out of his car with a huge smile on his face. He squealed in happiness and ran in your direction before crushing you in a hug and spinning you around.

"Finally!" he let out loudly, "I'm so happy you're here!"

The boy put you down and squished your cheeks before pressing a kiss on the tip of your nose causing you to giggle and push him away in embarrassment, "It's been so long! You haven't changed one bit."

"Same for you, still as beautiful as always!" Charles replied as he grabbed your suitcase and bag before walking towards his car.

You bit your lip and looked down, feeling your body getting warmer at the compliment. You swore you even heard some fans scattered all around -explaining the camera flashes from earlier, swooning at Charles' words. Some of them actually called your name and you waved and greeted a few of them before sitting inside Charles' car as you patiently waited for him to take some pictures and sign autographs.

Being a familiar face in Formula 1 was never once on your mind when you were younger. You were certain that Charles would be, at some point, but you never saw yourself in the equation. Probably because you never thought that being best friends with an F1 driver would bring any attention. You had underestimated the influence of social media and the power of a strong friendship. You couldn't count how many times you had stumbled upon videos of you and Charles on YouTube titled "Charles Leclerc & (Y/N) being freaking adorable for ten minutes straight", or how many fan accounts in your honor had been created on Instagram as you kept constantly gaining new followers on the platform even though your page consisted on uploading what you called "dumpster posts". They were basically collections of moments that you loved, including ugly photos of you as well as your friends, and that you just wanted to share because you liked them. And, you didn't understand why at first, but it made the entire F1 community love you even more. Because you didn't fit in the "mold" of F1 and you couldn't care any less.

Charles finally joined you in the car, making the engine roar with a childish smile painted on his face. He patted your thigh, "So, what do you wanna do?"

You frowned, "You didn't plan anything?"

He opened his eyes wide, suddenly feeling like he was a bad host and should've prepared your visit more carefully. You started laughing and he gave you a confused look as he started driving away from the train station.

"I was joking, you silly!" you said, "Let's go for lunch, I'm starving."

The rest of the day consisted in you two going to your favorite pizza place where you used to go all the time with your families when you were just kids before going back to his place and chilling for the rest of the day as the boy played some soft music on the piano for a few hours.

When you opened your eyes, you realized you had fallen asleep on the couch. You tapped on your phone and gasped at the clock. It was already 6pm and you couldn't believe you had wasted your first day back in Monaco sleeping on Charles' couch. You jolted up and looked for your suitcase. You knew you were invited to a barbecue with Charles, some childhood friends as well as a few F1 drivers who decided to spend a part of their summer break in Monte-Carlo and you hadn't changed. You noticed Charles sitting behind the kitchen counter, his phone pointed at you as he laughed uncontrollably at your frantic behaviour.

"Look who's back!" Charles said, confirming he was actually filming you.

"Where's my suitcase?" you asked seethingly, "And get that camera off my face."

Charles flipped the camera, looking at his phone as if he had just been scolded by his mother before shooting you a quick look, "In the bedroom, where else?"

You stormed off as Charles cackled at his phone, knowing this Instagram story would drive many fans crazy, "I think she's already done with me."

. . .

When you arrived at the 'event', you felt underdressed. Well, the men didn't put too much effort into their outfits as they were all wearing a shirt with trousers or jeans. But for some women, on the other hand, it looked like they were attending a wedding or prom. They wore gorgeous dresses, some wore such fancy jewellery that one simple look in their direction could blind you for days. And it all looked absolutely wonderful but it made you feel extremely out of place. You were quite literally wearing vintage denim overalls with a red bodysuit under and a bunch of colorful jewelery.

You could see Charles was about to melt into the crowd of people so you grabbed his arm and he instinctively turned around to face you, his hand covering yours, "What's going on?"

You couldn't deny the constant care he had for you was making you feel extremely soft on the inside. You knew the place he held in your heart wasn't one of simple platonic best friend. It had always been more than platonic on your side. And it all came from these small gestures, the longing looks, the real interest he had whenever you would tell him all about your day when the two of you were apart.

You pushed those thoughts away and stepped back, "I didn't know we had to dress up, I... I feel weird here."

Charles frowned, "It's a barbecue, (Y/N), nobody's dressed up, look!"

You sighed in defeat and gave him a small smile, nodding in agreement before recognizing Pierre's voice calling out your name as he jogged towards you both before giving you a warm hug, "Long time no see! How've you been?"

"I know right!" you replied, "Well, I officially graduated so I guess my real life starts now!"

"Yeah! Let's celebrate!" Pierre cheered as he pulled you and Charles towards the bar, ordering beers for all of you. "Gonna work in England or stay in Monaco?"

You shrugged, "I don't know yet. I got a few job offers in the UK but I turned them all down, I really feel like a break will help me pick."

"Well... I already know I'd have to pick this one up from the floor if you ever moved permanently in the UK," Pierre said, pointing a finger at Charles.

"At least he'd have someone to do that," you said with a small laugh as Charles pouted at the simple idea of you living so far away from him, "But, I didn't make any decisions yet so..."

You spent the next couple of hours enjoying your time with the boys, catching up with Daniel and Max as well, eating and drinking as you tried not to pay too much attention to all the women gravitating towards Charles every now and then, trying to engage a conversation with the Ferrari driver.

You knew something like this was bound to happen, especially during parties. The Formula 1 world was highly coveted for its glamorous side and it often involved PR stunts with models, social media influencers and overall high class women. In a sense, it benefited both sides but the relationships rarely lasted long and it looked like an endless circle as you constantly witnessed the same game unfolding during events involving F1 drivers.

Charles was never really one for PR stunts. He did date some gorgeous women coming straight out of magazines in the past but he never looked fully committed and soon the excitement would fall flat out on both sides, leaving Charles with the reputation of being the "hopeless romantic of the Paddock" unable to find the one who would make his heart skip a beat. Sometimes, you secretly wished it would be you.

You gulped when you saw Charles looking over at you and you quickly turned away, finishing your beer as you tried to focus on the discussion the boys were having. But the task was difficult considering Charles' knew you by heart and had probably sensed a ting of sadness in your eyes when he caught you staring.

You let out a small sigh, causing Pierre to look at you and raise an eyebrow knowingly, "(Y/N)..."

"What?" you spluttered.

"Nothing's gonna happen with this girl," Pierre informed.

This phrase caused Max and Daniel to stop talking as they smirked at you, making you regret being so easy to read.

"Also, he's been staring at you since you got here," Max pointed out as Daniel nodded.

You shrugged, trying to ignore the tingly feeling erupting inside of your chest, "Yeah, he's just making sure I'm having a great time, that's all."

Daniel rolled his eyes, punching your shoulder slightly, "Nope, that's not that."

You shook your head, not liking where the conversation was heading, "Whatever. I need another drink," and you got out of your seat, walking towards the bar as you heard the boys chuckling at your reaction.

But once you were in front of the bartender, you didn't want another drink anymore, you wanted to go home. The night had turned sour and you almost regretted saying yes to come in the first place. You felt out of place once more and dreamed of rubbing that feeling off of you as quickly as possible. So you decided to tell goodbye to the boys, who pouted and begged for you to stay, but you knew you would most certainly hang out with them the following days so they quickly let you go.

You let out a refrained yelp when you bumped into Charles on your way out, "Fuck, you scared the hell out of me!"

He protectively placed a hand on your arm and squeezed it, "I'm sorry."

You chuckled, relaxing, "It's okay."

"You having fun?"

"Hm... I'm actually leaving."

Charles' face changed and he suddenly looked worried, "Why?"

"I'm just tired, it's okay," you said, "Don't worry about me, I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."

"Hell no!" Charles blurted out, "I'm going home with you."

"No! I don't wanna ruin your night," you gulped with guilt, "I'm okay, really."

Charles pointed a finger towards his friends, "I see them all the time. You? It was six months ago," he explained, "Let's go now."

As you two walked out, Charles didn't hesitate and grabbed your hand, entertwining your fingers as you silently walked towards his car. But your eyes caught a small park where you used to come and play when you were younger, "Charles, look! We used to come here almost everyday before, remember?"

And Charles tugged you towards the empty park as your fingers lingered against his touch before you went exploring the place that brought back so many memories. You spotted a wood bench painted in blue where you caught Charles crying when you were probably around eight. A kid from his class had made fun of him because he was wearing a bracelet and had compared him to a girl. You recalled asking him who he was and slapping him when you caught him the next morning. It had gotten you a severe punishment and from that moment on, Charles was never once hurt whenever someone would try to mess with him at school.

A little further, you recognized the tree under which your two families would gather to have a picnic on Sundays. All of your siblings would be there and you would be the loudest in the entire park but it didn't matter because it filled the place with joy and echoes of loud laughters, especially when you and Charles would end up rolling around in the grass to see who would reach the opposite tree first.

Walking towards that tree brought you to the swing set which was yours and Charles' favorite place. You would spend hours swinging around, hoping to go as high as possible to have the nicest view of the sky when your trip to the park would last until sunset.

Charles popped next to you, "Remember how I used to push you?"

You nodded and were quick to stand on the swing as you were now slightly taller than Charles who, instead of walking behind you to push you, stayed planted in front of you with a smile painted on his lips.

"You're not gonna push me?" you puzzled.

"You're not gonna tell me what happened earlier?"

You faltered, "What do you mean?"

"I know you lied," Charles said as he stepped forward to be a little closer, "Did I do something wrong?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What? No, absolutely not!" and placed your hands on his shoulders as he made eye contact with you, "Why would you think that?"

He shrugged, "That look you gave me. When this girl was talking to me," Charles said, "I've seen you look this way before but... you never looked at me like that."

When you said people could read you like a book, truth was, Charles could better than anyone else. And, even if it was scary at times, just like right now, it just proved how deeply connected you two were.

"I just felt out of place," you confessed, "You know... sometimes I wonder how you still want me in your life. I'm not like them, I'm... normal. And I know it's not bad but you're Charles Leclerc, you can have everything you want and I'm just this girl who doesn't like fancy events, I don't know what I wanna do with my life and it shows cause it's a mess."

Charles tried interrupting but you were so deep in your rant that he had no choice but to stare and listen.

"But, but I like this mess! It's who I am," you chattered rapidly, "But I'm just scared that one day you might wake up and realize you just don't need me in your life anymore."

"You need me in your life?" Charles asked with a tremble.

You fluttered your eyelashes rapidly, feeling your heart racing in your chest at the tone of his voice, as if he was suprised you cared this much about him. Gently, he placed his hands on your hips, as if he wanted to reciprocate the physical contact you had initiated with your hands on his shoulders. As if he held you, as if you steadied him.

"Yes, of course," you breathed.

A few seconds were spent in silence as Charles wanted to see if you would ask him the question in return. But he could tell he had pulled a sensitive string tonight and his eyes caught your bottom lip shaking ever so lightly and your fingers tensing on his shoulders as he realized you had probably caught him staring at your lips.

He would do that often, whenever you smiled brightly, whenever you laughed or whenever you spoke. Everything was an excuse for him to stare at your lips. He often wondered how they would feel pressed against his neck, against his chest or simply against his own lips. He had had goosebumps all over his body thinking about your lips near his ear, breathing heavily. But you had never noticed these looks, never until tonight.

He breathed out and made eye contact with you, "I know you're not gonna ask but I need you in my life too," he confessed.

He shifted slightly before speaking once more, "Actually, it's not just that I need you... I want you in my life, (Y/N)."

These last few words had made your heart stop entirely for a few seconds. Time froze on the spot and your grip on his shoulders relaxed, now letting your fingers travel from his covered shoulders to his exposed neck, feeling goosebumps covering his warm skin as you touched him. It caused Charles' grip on your hips to tighten unvoluntarily, a breath getting stuck in his throat as your hands found their way to the back of his neck, playing with his hair as you used your thumb to lift his chin towards you.

Charles had never seen you look at him this way before. Your eyes glowed and he had never felt more desirable than right now, under your lustful gaze and against your burning touch.

You kissed him. Slowly and deeply. You didn't hesitate, not anymore. Your ragged breaths filled the quiet and empty park and you melted against Charles when he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling himself closer even if it meant lifting his head even higher to keep kissing you on top of the swing.

When you pulled away, you were both smiling like idiots and Charles carefully lifted you before putting you down as you ruffled his hair, laughing when he pressed kisses all over your face.

"I'm glad I left the party, not gonna lie," you confessed with rosy cheeks.

You caught Charles biting his lip as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, "Me too..."

You giggled when you felt him tickling you on the hips and you let out a small shriek as you got out of his grip before grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the exit.

"Where are you going?" Charles asked, confused.

You swiftly turned around and smirked, "Home... Do I have to explain why?"

Charles gulped and you laughed as he was now the one tugging you out of the park and towards his car.

#F1 #f1 imagine #F1 preference #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc preference #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc gif

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masterwords · 2 years

Text

the powers of time

Summary: Time parallel: Sean comes to stay with Hotch after Foyet / Hotch takes care of a monster in Sean's closet.

Warnings: post-Foyet pain, implications of past abuse, cigarettes, mentions of drug use

Pairings: none

Words: 3.7k

Notes: More Sean content! Let's do this.

Read on AO3: (soon)

"Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win."

‒ Stephen King

Sean is six the first time he sees the monster in his closet. He's not really sure he sees it with his eyes, not at first. He's only six but he's not an idiot and he hasn't grown up in a house that encourages make believe. Any imagination he has is owed to his brother pulling him out into the woods and breaking branches off of trees to play pirates or cowboys. He's too old to be any good at the games, but Sean is grateful that he tries. All of this leads him to believe with all his heart that the monster he sees in his closet is real, very real. He knows better than to call out, to make a sound after dark, because there is more than one monster in the house, and he's not trying to trade the one in his closet for the one with the flaming whiskey breath.

“Aaron?” he whispers, entering his brother's room on the balls of his feet, careful to miss the floorboards he knows creak. That startles Aaron and he doesn't like to startle his brother. “Aaron? There's a monster in my closet...”

The room is silent for a moment, and then he hears a low rumbling hum come from beneath the mound of blankets on the bed. The fabric shifts and out pops a foot first, one arm flopping a moment later. He's gotten so much taller over the summer; he towers over Sean now and as he emerges from beneath the covers, he wonders at how grown up his brother is. He's the only person who can get rid of the monster in his closet.

“Not again...” he moans, running one sweaty palm down over his face. “I have exams in the morning, Sean.”

“I don't think it cares.”

Aaron grunts his disapproval but can't argue with that logic. “Okay. Okay. I'm coming.” He doesn't move, though, and Sean stands sentinel with his hands folded over his chest. Soon he hears the deep breaths and tiny snores that tell him his brother has gone back to sleep and he frowns. Aaron isn't coming and he doesn't want to go back to his room alone, so he does the only logical thing.

He crawls into bed with his brother, right under the covers that smell like sweat and something green and skunky, buries his face in the too thin pillow and tries to forget about the monster. It can have his room tonight.

…..

From his perch on the couch, wrapped inside of an over-sized blanket that actually covers the entirety of his large frame, he listens to the knocking on the door as if it is happening down the hall. It's someone else's door, certainly not his. He isn't expecting anyone, and he'd just about told everyone he knew to leave him alone in far less graceful terms. He'd always been happier on his own, but this was something new, this intense need to be entirely alone, not to hear voices in his space or see anything moving in the murky shadows. The knocking continues, and when he pushes his face out of the blanket, it becomes loud enough that he recognizes it as his own door. He groans, considers just letting it go but too many people had covertly managed to make themselves keys to his apartment lately (a fact he'd have to remedy sooner rather than later) and he didn't need them letting themselves in.

“Coming,” he mutters, knowing they can't hear him. He lets one foot slip out first, and then an arm, testing the warmth of the room. His bare skin erupts in goosebumps at the temperature change and he rubs his face to try and wake himself up. He hadn't really been sleeping, just existing in some half-awake half-dream state where nothing felt real and yet his senses were on hyperdrive. It was miserable. He was miserable.

He pushes himself off of the couch. It's more of a fall than anything, his legs don't want to cooperate and his stomach is still searing pain beneath fresh new skin. Pressing his palm flat against the worst of it, feeling the knots of scar tissue, he guides himself toward the door using furniture to support sleepy legs and glass knees. The peephole lies, he thinks, or maybe he's still on the couch and he's fallen into real sleep...he must be dreaming.

“Sean?” he asks, his voice groggy and hoarse. Sean regards him cautiously, notes that their usually small height difference feels somehow enormous right now, and offers a benign smile. He means no harm.

“Sorry to show up unannounced, but I need a place to stay. My apartment building is being fumigated, fuckin' rats the size of alley cats...cockroaches, too. Can I kick it here for a week?”

Aaron cocks an eyebrow and tries to clear the fog from his brain enough to understand what's being asked of him. He's a patchwork quilt of agony and his brother wants to sleep on his couch? Classic. Still, he nods, he's not sure how to really understand what's going on, he's only half awake even still. His mind is somewhere else, it lives in the murky shadows behind the washing machine that seem to creep and shift in the corner of his eye. Even now he feels them moving, the cold emanating from their presence.

“You been sleeping on the couch?” Sean asks, breezing in and taking in the sight of the place. He was putting on airs, and in no small amount of shock that his brother didn't call him on it. If his apartment was being fumigated, he certainly wouldn't buy a bus ticket all the way down to Virginia for a week...no, Derek had called in a favor, Dave paid for a ticket, they conspired behind Aaron's back and so far he seemed none the wiser. That was not comforting to Sean in the least. The gust of air as he passes sends a shiver up Aaron's spine and he blinks against the nausea that follows, rubs mindlessly at the pain in his belly.

Sean wanders through the place, poking around in cupboards, running himself a glass of lukewarm water from the tap. “Your water pressure sucks.”

….

“Sean, there isn't a monster in your closet, it's just your toybox lid and the clothes hanging. Look.” It's the third night in a row that Sean has woken Aaron, and he's finally had enough to get himself out of bed and pad as quietly as he could down to Sean's room. Of course he knew the monster wouldn't be real, but there was something really scaring his brother and he couldn't figure out what it was. “You want to sleep with me again?”

“One more night?”

Aaron turns and leads the way back to his own room and closes the door tight behind them. With a wayward smile he tucks Sean in beside him and goes to sleep.

….

“You can have the guest room,” Aaron says, gesturing down the hall. “Last room on the right.”

“The couch is fine.”

He glares at Sean, always arguing with him. He's trying to offer some hospitality while his life is falling apart, while standing takes every ounce of energy from his already depleted reserves, and Sean isn't even hearing it. “I insist.”

“Seriously, Aaron, I'm good on the couch, don't need to mess up a perfectly nice bedroom. I got a TV, the fridge with all your good beer...” That's all there is in the fridge. A six pack of Stella Artois, an open jug of milk and a box of take out noodles half-eaten. He hasn't explored the cupboards yet but he knows it's bound to look the same. That's an adventure for another day. Aaron says it's because he was out of town, and then he was in the hospital but it's more than that. He's not eating and Sean can tell. The first day stretches out into evening and Sean is starving to death, so he slips out while Aaron showers. It's a short walk to the little grocery on the corner, their selection is paltry at best but it's better than the nothing in Aaron's kitchen. He grabs a dry and tasteless heating lamp burrito and a pile of mozzarella sticks that have seen better days, hungry enough not to be picky about how he fills his empty stomach. Plus, the sight of his brother had unnerved him and he needed a smoke or two before he could muster the courage to go back inside.

They don't talk much, Aaron isn't up for a lot of conversation. He's still exhausted all day, body feels like he's run a marathon or been hit by a MAC truck, but he can't sleep. Not really. He can smell the pungent scent of fear, of rage, it's sour and overwhelming...sometimes he's certain it's Foyet over his shoulder, other times he knows it's his own and he retreats, again, to the comfort of his shower.

The second day, Sean eats Jack's cereal, it's all there is in the apartment. (Sometime in the night he'd been brave enough to eat the leftover noodles after inspecting them for mold and coming up reasonably sure they had been put there recently and most likely not by his brother.) He pours a bowl and sniffs the milk, deciding it's worth the risk. When Aaron comes out to announce he's going to take a shower, he finds Sean perched on the kitchen counter thumbing through a copy of Ranger Rick and crunching on some organic version of Cocoa Puffs, chocolate cereal to make parents feel less guilty about feeding their kid candy for breakfast. Haley insisted, he didn't argue.

“We make food on those counters...” Aaron mutters and Sean lets out a loud bark of a laugh.

“Yeah. Right. You're not doing any cooking in this kitchen.”

Aaron doesn't argue, just fills a glass with tap water and stares at his brother. He's still not sure why Sean is there or how he knew, though he had his suspicions and none of them involved an apartment being fumigated. Sean could lie with the best of them but not to Aaron.

He cries in the shower, and Sean pretends not to hear it. Outside for a smoke, he sits on the steps and watches traffic crawl by. The pace is different here than in New York and he misses the speed, the way people don't look at you, he misses being a smudge on the landscape. Everyone here that passes by locks eyes with him, some smile, others scowl but they all see him. He hates Virginia. Stretching his legs, he crosses his feet at the ankles and stares back, deciding one more cigarette won't hurt. Aaron takes long showers and he thinks Sean doesn't know why.

Inside the apartment is silent, at least at first. After a moment, the hiss of the shower was detectable, and then the sound of his brother's gasping sobs beneath the spray. He can't take it, his mother always told him his meddling would get him in trouble but he was nosy and he just couldn't help it. He knocks a few times to announce his entry before barging in. Taking in the sight of his brother sitting with his head in his hands beneath the shower, he feels his lungs turn to dust, his heart stops pumping blood and he can feel only air in its place.

“Aaron?”

“...hurts...” he whimpers, holding his midsection tight behind arms and legs drawn up, he's pulled himself into a ball and he's crying. Not crying, sobbing, gasping like his lungs were in spasm. Sean crouches beside the tub and places his large hand on the back of Aaron's neck, it rests there solid and firm. He can feel the sharp jab of vertebrae against his palm and the empty kitchen glares back at him, jeering I told you so.

“Are you okay?” he asks stupidly, knowing the answer but he doesn't really mean it like that...he just wants to know if he's hurt himself somehow or if this is just how it is now, and he feels Aaron shake his head before resting his cheek miserably against his knee again. It's never really going to be okay again, Sean realizes maybe for the first time.

“Just hurts,” he whispers, sucking in air, trying to catch his shaking breath. “Sorry. Didn't mean to alarm you.” Sean squeezes the back of his neck a little rough and nods before standing up and leaving. He's not eager for an eye full of his naked brother, but he's ready to pounce the minute he's dressed.

…

Aaron figures out, after two weeks of the monster's constant presence, that Sean is upset about him leaving for boarding school in the fall. He's afraid of his brother being gone, though Aaron can't fathom why. It isn't like they spend a lot of time together outside of just existing in the same house. He's doing his best not to think about it, himself, just hides in the woods and smokes with his friends every opportunity he gets because it beats the hell out of the reality that is barreling fast in his direction.

“Sean,” he's tried to say about a million times since he realized this had to be the problem, but he couldn't bring himself to speak it to life. Take away this thing from Sean. So he starts sneaking into Sean's room at night once he's brushed his teeth and finished getting ready for bed. He doesn't make Sean ask anymore. He positions himself carefully between Sean and the closet on the bed, goes through a whole ordeal making sure the door is closed and a chair is wedged beneath the handle. Some particularly bad nights, they've erected a system of booby traps just in case, but mostly Aaron just lays with his back to the closet door and snores beside his brother. It seems to help.

…

Aaron manages to get himself into bed once he's pulled himself together. Into a bed he hasn't slept in for weeks, not since before going to Canada, long before Foyet violated his home. He curls around the deep ache in his chest and shuts his eyes tight, tries to settle his breath and feel the blood pumping through every tiny tendril of his circulatory system.

“Sean?” he whispers as his brother makes for the doorway, his t-shirt wet, his nerves on fire. “Leave the door open?”

He opens his mouth to ask why...Aaron has always been a door shut guy. Always. But he nods his understanding and offers a smile in the dark.

“No problem. Get some sleep...I'm gonna watch a movie and drink all your beer. Maybe tomorrow we can walk down to the corner store...you're gonna need more beer and I'm outta smokes.” He makes good on the promise, he drinks all the beer and finds a poorly edited version of Striptease on some late night channel that has more commercials than movie. He checks on his brother twice and finds him sleeping, completely covered by his blankets, and for a split second he looks to Aaron's closet and thinks about their old house. He's almost drunk enough to consider crawling into his brother's bed but it wouldn't be nearly as funny to Aaron as it was to him, so he slips back into the hallway and passes out on the couch in his underwear with beer bottles and a half eaten bowl of mushy cereal littering the floor around him like some kind of burnout booby trap.

In the morning he convinces Aaron to leave the apartment, and the way he shields his eyes when they walk into the sunlight tells him that this isn't something he's been doing much of. “When did you go out last?”

“Doctor's appointment,” he mutters, pulling his jacket close around him. It doesn't really answer Sean's question, but to his credit, Sean doesn't dig further. They walk side by side and the way Aaron curls around his sore stomach almost makes Sean uncomfortable with their height difference.

“You want some snacks? Your cupboards are empty.”

Aaron narrows his eyes at the selection in front of him and feels his stomach twist at the thought. “I'm okay.”

“It's shocking.”

“What is?”

“How bad a liar you are. You were a lawyer and I can see right through you,” Sean groans, dumping piles of barely food into the basket he hooked over his arm. It's loaded down with calories by the time they approach the counter, between the case of beer and the piles of sweets and chips, beef jerky and other prepared chemical laden calorie bombs. He would love to drive to a proper grocery store, cook a real meal, but hadn't gotten up the nerve to ask Aaron if he could borrow his car yet. Maybe tomorrow. Aaron produces a box of licorice, the only thing he'd grabbed and only because Sean wouldn't leave the store until he had something in his hand. Stubborn Hotchner genes.

He nearly doesn't make it back; his sight narrows to pinpricks and his breathing is labored. He's just trying not to pass out, either from pain or anxiety he isn't really sure, this is new. Sean notes that their pace slows considerably the further they walk, and he can see how pale and drawn Aaron's face has gone over the last block. “You need to take a minute?” Sean asks, and he's met only with a glare so they keep moving. He hands Sean the keys and he leans against the wall while he waits for Sean to open the door, there was no way he was getting the key in the hole with his hands shaking the way they were. The ache is deep, throbbing hot and angry. He would pay for the walk later.

Sean unpacks the groceries while Aaron eases himself down onto the couch. He pulls one of Sean's dirty socks out from between the cushions and decides today is laundry day, it has to be. The two of them are slipping into something that could only be described as slovenly. As soon as he can stand again, he's tackling the washing.

…

Aaron packs what few belongings he has into an army canvas bag given to him by his uncle. It's grimy and dusty, has been tossed in a basement for twenty years and it smells like rot but it's the best he's got. He doesn't own much that he's willing to take with him anyway, a few pairs of jeans and some t-shirts, his favorite sweater and treasured books. He packs light. Sean watches him with tears in his eyes, has the look of a child who is certain he's never going to see someone again.

“I'll be home for Thanksgiving,” Aaron offers, cramming a wad of socks into the bag. “And Christmas break.” Sean doesn't believe him. He can't fathom how long that is, linear time is beyond his shallow reasoning ability. It could be tomorrow or ten years from now depending on the mood he wakes up in.

“What about the monster?”

“I'll take him with me. He's already packed.”

To Sean's surprise...the monster disappears with Aaron. He couldn't tell you why or how it worked, but Aaron seemed to take it with him and they never spoke of it again.

…

Sean's nest on the couch is an eyesore, but Aaron finds it strangely comforting. Dragging a small trash bag around the room he collects the empty beer cans and crinkly plastic wrappers while Sean showers, and he folds his brother's blanket up neatly atop his pillow. Sean isn't going to stay forever, and aside from the incessant bickering that couldn't be avoided among them, he was loathe to admit that Sean's visit had been good for him. He'd been sleeping in short bursts, real sleeping, knowing that Sean was out on the couch. A beating heart between himself and the door, another set of eyes to watch the shadows for movement.

“I know what you're doing.”

“What am I doing?” Sean asks, offering the second twinkie in his package to his brother. Aaron isn't going to say it, but he gives Sean a knowing look that strikes fear into his heart. “You don't know shit. Wanna watch a movie with me tonight?”

They watch Dirty Dancing after far too many clicks of the remote. It's more commercial than movie and Aaron's head is pounding.

“You know I own movies...” Aaron grumbles, wishing that Sean would stop fiddling with the remote every time a commercial break happened. He's a channel flipper, can't abide by ads so he'll find something else to watch for exactly two minutes and then flip back. If he misses part of the movie, so be it, but he won't watch the ads. Aaron is sick to his stomach, and he finds himself curled up around his cramping midsection hardly paying attention to the movie anyway. It's been a steady go of eating real meals (small, but Sean is actually a good cook) and good nights, mostly pain-free nights, so this hits him like a freight train. He'd overdone it earlier, cleaning the apartment, being on his feet too much. The change in his behavior isn't lost on Sean.

“You want me to get you something? You got meds or your heating pad maybe?”

“I'm fine.”

Sean knows better than to believe his brother's lies, but he won't push it. He loops his arm around Aaron's shoulder and pulls him close, it's not tender or gentle, he manhandles him into a comfortable position and tugs the blanket up over him. It's almost like magic, Aaron's eyes are trailing from shadow to shadow, owlishly watching them for movement while his brother drums mindlessly with the movie soundtrack on his arm and then he's asleep.

“Don't worry,” Sean says, slinging his backpack over his shoulder the next morning while Aaron shuffles himself around nervously. He returns to work in a few days, and he's got to get his suits pressed, make sure everything is in order, and he can't seem to find his badge. Memory of the pain from the night before still haunts his steps, he's moving slow but determined. Sean stops him forcibly with one large hand on his shoulder and pulls him into a hug. The kind that is suffocating, and Aaron can smell laundry detergent covering the now faint smell of kitchen grease that's ingrained in the fabric of Sean's being. Sean smirks, holding his older brother inside the folds of his leather jacket. “I don't think I can take your monster with me, but I can come back anytime you want.”

#aaron hotchner #sean hotchner #criminal minds #brothers hotchner #foyet aftermath #hurt/comfort

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seriouslysnape · 3 years

Text

The End of the Week

Cedric Diggory x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Language. Slight sexual implications.

Word Count: 1,856

A/N: Requests are still being written! I’ve just had this idea foreverrrrr. I gotta show my golden boy some love. I don’t even know what to name this.

“Hey! It’s just hot in here.”

Cedric was as perfectly content as he could possibly be in this moment. He couldn’t even begin to imagine something better than where he was right now. You were curled up next to him, and the way your head was nuzzled into his neck was spreading extra warmth all over his body with each gentle exhale through your nose onto his skin. The Hufflepuff common room was as still and quiet as could be, considering that everyone else had gone to bed for the evening.

It had been a hectic week for the both of you. Your schedules had been overcrowded with long Quidditch practices and impossibly difficult exams all while trying to throw in some social time into the balance. You hadn’t seen much of each other that week, only sharing loving glances when you passed in the halls or stealing quick kisses and small conversations between classes.

The end of the second term was just around the corner, which meant that your workloads would only increase until it was time to leave for summer break. Cedric had made it a priority to spend every free moment that he had with you. He was hoping for you to spend summer vacation with him and his family, but in case his plans fell through, he wanted to be sure to see you as much as possible.

Friday night had presented a break in the week’s chaos, both of you jumping on the opportunity like a hungry cat on a frightened mouse. Cedric basically snatched you out of your last class of the day when his Quidditch practice was canceled, which opened up his entire evening. The two of you were practically running hand in hand as your feet involuntarily made their way to his prefect room, the serenity and silence of it was calling your names.

Cedric had tossed you onto his bed, attacking you with sweet kisses and doing everything he could to draw laughter out of you. Not being able to be with you or touch you over the course of his stressful week had been killing him. You were his comfort, his single source of solace when life became too much for him. He always felt a little piece of himself missing when he strayed from you for too long.

Cedric had shown no mercy when your waist was between his knees as he tickled and teased at your sides and wherever else he knew you were ticklish. The sound of your happy giggles were music to his ears, which is how he could never bring himself to stop until your lungs were gasping for air and you were desperate with your pleas.

“Ced, stop!” You shrieked through strained laughs.

Cedric’s smile never left his face as he withdrew his hands, chuckling lightly as you wiped the tears of laughter from the corners of your eyes.

“I’m sorry, sweet girl. I’ve just missed you.” He admitted, lowering his head and kissing you again once you had caught your breath.

You smirked under his soft lips, bringing a hand to cup his cheek. His heart fluttered at the feeling of your thumb stroking his slightly flushed skin and the way you pushed him onto his back to deepen your kissing.

“I’ve missed you too. I hate this time of year.” You remarked, resting your chin on his chest.

Cedric’s hand was resting on the back of your thigh, his fingertips fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

“Oh, come on. You love springtime.” Cedric corrected.

“Yeah, I love seasonal allergies that kick my ass every year,” You grumbled sarcastically; “I mean because we hardly see one another this time of year.”

A knowing sigh fell from Cedric’s mouth, allowing his hand beginning to run lazily across the exposed skin on your leg.

“I know. But we have summer to look forward to,” He mewled; “You know it gets so hot at home that you have to strip down to next to nothing...” Cedric purred.

With a shocked gasp, your arm swung out to playfully smack his shoulder at what he was insinuating.

“Cedric Diggory!”

He laughed with his usual hearty, light voice, gripping you under your arms and pulling you up next to him from where he was lounged up on his pillows.

“What? I can’t think about my pretty girlfriend wearing nothing but her knickers?” He teased, kissing softly on your neck.

“Not if we’re going to be staying with your family. You have to keep your hands to yourself when they’re around.” You instructed.

Instinctively, your hand came to the back of his head and your fingers buried in his fluffy hair to direct him to your more sensitive areas on your neck. Cedric hummed happily, securing that you were flush with his body and entwining one of your legs between his.

“Quick nap before dinner?” Cedric suggested, noting that dinner was in an hour and a half.

You perked up at that, eagerly snuggling up to him ever further and draping the covers over the two of you. You and Cedric were exhausted. You could feel the tiredness creeping its way into your bones, and even Cedric’s muscles were much more tense than usual. A small power nap was definitely in order.

“Yes, please.”

Cedric wrapped his arms around you, his warmth cascading over you in a heavenly way. You were out like a light, your eyelashes fluttering every few minutes or so. Inky darkness had begun to paint the sky over Hogwarts, making the half-moon much more visible as stars began appearing alongside it. Cedric had to wrestle you out of bed, fighting your begs for five more minutes under his warm sheets, because he knew good and well you’d stay curled up for the rest of the night if he didn’t get you up now.

Once you were dragged away from your slumber sanctuary, he persuaded you to follow him to The Great Hall for dinner, walking with your fingers interlaced and whispering sweet nothings to one another.

You and Cedric had very well become the power couple of your year. If Cedric was around, then you likely weren’t far away. Adolescence wasn’t an easy stage of life for anybody. Cedric considered himself lucky every single day that he had someone to take the journey with him. You and Cedric had blossomed into incredible young adults together, braving the wizarding world with the other in tow.

Cedric’s future revolved around you, and there wasn’t a single aspect of his life that he hadn’t made sure you were a part of. He had decided long ago that he wanted to marry you soon after graduation. Later down the line, he wanted to have little Diggory kids running around with your eyes and his hair. His life was yours, and yours was his.

You had protested going to dinner because staying cuddled up with Cedric sounded much better than choking down chicken for the fifth time in a week. But Cedric told you that he wanted you to get some food in your belly before any more shenanigans, so denying you kisses until you had eaten supper was the only way to put his foot down.

He swept you away once you had both eaten, carrying you off into the Hufflepuff common room. Cedric usually would hang around the common room after dinner to make sure that no one was out after curfew, or until he was too tired to care anymore. Cedric never put too much energy into keeping an eye on mischievous Hufflepuffs, considering there weren’t many anyways and they were always far sneakier than Cedric could keep up with.

Hufflepuffs of all ages straggled in and up the separated staircases to their dorm rooms, some of them sauntering past you and Cedric and some stopping to rant about their stressful week. Turns out that you weren’t the only ones who had been through the wringer.

It was late now, you and Cedric being the only ones still up and energized from your nap a few hours ago. Cedric was soaking up every second of this moment, not wanting to forget this feeling in his heart. If he could end every day like this then he’d be the happiest man on Earth.

“It’s a Hogsmeade weekend,” You announced, carefully breaking the silence; “You want to go tomorrow and I’ll buy you a Butterbeer?”

Cedric snorted and looked down at your huddled frame, amusement clear on his face.

“Since when have I ever let you buy me anything? As long as I’m breathing, I pay for meals.” He proclaimed.

“It’s a Butterbeer. I’d hardly consider it a meal,” You said; “I just want to spoil you like you do me.”

The bubbly laughter that came from the Hufflepuff boy’s chest sent a flash of care through your cells, your heartbeat speeding up at the sound of his joy.

“Oh, but I love spoiling you. I have to take care of my favorite girl.” He confessed.

A hot rush went straight to your cheeks, a shy smile appearing on your face that Cedric couldn’t possibly miss. His lips left a small kiss on your cupid’s bow, his voice lowering in the sweetest way.

“After all these years I still know how to make you blush.” He noted with a grin.

“You are very charming, Ced,” You complimented, fidgeting with the collar of his sweater; “And handsome.”

Now it was his turn to blush, his cheeks flooding red with a bashful smile. He caught your look of entertainment, and he was quick to defend himself.

“Hey! It’s just hot in here.” He half-lied, motioning towards the crackling fire in the fireplace just a few feet in front of you.

“Is it now?” You laughed, crawling over and placing a knee on each side of him. Your hands rested on his shoulders, a shudder going down your spine at the feeling of his grip on your hips. Your lips just barely brushed over his, a new mood taking over the room; “It is getting rather warm in here...”

Cedric let out a groan of temptation when you kissed him and rolled your pelvis into his, creating the most delicious friction. It didn’t take long for Cedric to dominate over you, pushing you into the cushions of the sofa and pinning you underneath him. His lips were hot wherever they sucked or left kisses, his aura and familiar feel was your favorite thing ever.

“I’ve always wanted to make love to you here.” He mumbled, removing his belt from his pants before pushing your skirt up past your hips.

His hair fell onto his forehead in soft tufts when he lowered himself again to look down at the girl he had fallen so in love with. The only person he’d ever truly love with every ounce of his being.

“I love you.” He murmured passionately as he always did.

“I love you, Ced.” You returned.

His kisses and touches resumed, arousal growing and hearts beating with one another’s. It was a perfect moment.

And an even better way to make up for lost time.

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory x female reader #cedric diggory fanfiction #cedric diggory x you #cedric diggory x y/n #cedric diggory imagine #cedric diggory blurb #cedric diggory oneshot #seriouslysnape

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