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alliterative-albatross · 3 years

Note

So, I sent you (@disgruntledspacedad) a pretty long ask a while ago (back when you had anon on) and I'm decently sure Tumblr ate it (or maybe you ignored it, in which case, feel free to ignore this one as well). But then I saw one of those "writers appreciate feedback no matter how long" posts, so I'm back here. Here is my mediocre attempt to rewrite my original review of your work. Bear in mind that English is not my first language, so if at any point my phrasing sounds weird to you, you know why. Mandatory disclaimer/apology: this might get a little too long 😅

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

I remember being SO mad at myself for not finding this sooner. I binge read it one afternoon with no thoughts for any real life responsibilities I might have had (and no regrets). Javiears is one hell of an unconventional relationship in the beginning, and I really love what you did with them. The whole premise of your story is quite refreshing, and you somehow manage to convey the trust and mutual respect there two feel for one another without explicitly showing us the beginning of their "entanglement".

Also, fuck you for what you did to poor Emilio, that man was a saint and he deserved better! I honestly can't believe that I got so attached to a character that appeared so little in the story, but it happened, and his death kind of broke my heart.

But the Javiears reunion + mild confession was lovely, and felt completely deserved. And of course the sex scene. I won't lie, I expected a bit better from Javi there, but I did like how utterly /human/ it was. Capturing that humanity, the imperfections in each character is something you're really good at (more on that later).

AFTERSHOCKS

Ah, my emotionally constipated babies who really need to work out their communication issues. I do love them, though. And this short series did a really good job of delving a bit deeper into Ears's and Javi's psyche. Kudos to you for dealing with the medical "aftershocks" of living through an explosion AND using that experience to move your emotional plot forward. These two need to grow a lot before they can get to a stable point in their relationship, and you really manage to convey their insecurity and fear of commitment/intimacy while making it clear that they're in it for the long run and that theirs is a relationship that WILL work out so help them God.

IF I FALL

Ouch. Punch me in the gut while you're at it, why don't you?

But seriously, "If I Fall" is SO FUCKING GOOD. Don't get me wrong, it's angstier than an image of Jesus on the cross (don't judge me, it's Holy Week and I just got home from accompanying my grandma to church), but it somehow works beautifully. You, my dear, play heartstrings like they're a fucking guitar and I AM HERE FOR IT.

You're doing an amazing job at making me feel everything these characters are feeling, which is both awful (bc pain) and impressive.

Also, if anything happens to Ana I will cry, because she is adorable and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Also also, if anything happens to Ears I will cry, because she is badass and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Also also also, if anything happens to Javi I will cry, because he is loving and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Basically, I am really invested in the well-being of these characters and can't wait until they're happy and safe again (please tell me they will be, my heart can't handle much more pain).

A quick note on the angst complaints: yes, this story is way angstier than most other fics out there and it can be a bit too much at times, especially considering how many chapters of pain it's been. BUT it's obvious that "If I Fall" NEEDS this amount of angst to get where it's going, to send the message it wants to and to properly develop its characters. The pain is as important to this story as flour is to bread. You may not like eating flour on its own (I don't think anyone does), but you love bread (because bread is amazing) and you must recognize that bread NEEDS flour to work. It wouldn't be bread otherwise. And eating the flour as part of the bread even makes you like the flour because the bread is just DELICIOUS.

I fully understand and sympathize with the people who have elected to table "If I Fall" until it's completed so they can binge read it knowing there's a happy ending in sight, but in case you're feeling a bit self conscious about all the angst, please know that your story is beautiful not in spite of the pain, but rather /because of it/.

PS: No, I'm not high/drunk, I just really like bread

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Silly thing to comment on, I know, but I do feel like it's important that you know how useful your ANs have been. There are many details in the story that I simply wouldn't fully get without reading your comments at the end of each chapter, and I appreciate your writing a hell of a lot more knowing how deeply you understand and care for each one of your characters. Plus, it is obvious how much work you've put into researching a country and a time period that are (from what I gather) unfamiliar to you, and I really do believe you've done an amazing job of it.

JAVIER PEÑA

My boy. I love your characterization of this complicated character, and I have eagerly read each and every one of your headcanons about him. I can't really say if your version is fully faithful to the source material because it's been a while since I saw Narcos, but your Javi most definitely reads like a real person. He's fairly consistent as a character, and I feel like everything he does is perfectly natural for him to do as a character. He makes for an unconventional yet deeply interesting romantic lead, and so far I have thoroughly enjoyed all his POV chapters/scenes.

OCs

I know you've gotten some flack for making her into an OC halfway into the story, and while I get why the sudden change may have felt like a disappointment for some, I don't share that sentiment. I firmly believe that this fandom is unfairly harsh towards Original Characters and their creators, and I don't really understand why. Listen, I love Reader fics, and consume many Reader fics. I have read dozens, maybe even hundreds, and I can safely say that I've only ever "inserted" myself in approximately 10% of those stories. Reader characters are not as blank as their writers may want them to be. They can't be. They're characters, and character have personalities and moral values and senses of humor and a bunch of other things. Reader characters may not have a backstory or a physical description attached (and even that's not guaranteed), but they're still characters.

And on a more personal note, pretending they're actual blank slates is naive at best and insensitive at worst. Reader characters are American coded 99% of the time, and white coded 95% of the time. Not every readers is white nor American, even if that's the predominant demographic on Tumblr. When I read a JavixReader fic about a woman who speaks exactly zero Spanish, I know she's not me. The story may be beautifully written and have an amazing plot and character development, but the Reader *isn't me*. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, and some of my favorite xReader stories feature a "reader" who couldn't be more different from me, but it's something that enemies of OC fics should take into account. Particularly if they are white and/or American. But I digress.

HANNAH AARONS

Your character is amazing. She's strong, smart, confident, independent and an all-around badass. She gets kidnapped while pregnant and still focuses on problem solving and survival. But she's also overly guarded and mistrustful, and really needs to work on her communication skills. There are times when I absolutely love her and even admire her, and other times when I want to whack her with a slipper. She's no Mary Sue, but remains interesting and likeable throughout the story. She feels wholly human and real, and that's no easy task. I like her, I am invested in her, and I can't wait to see what's next for her. She's a compelling and three dimensional protagonist in a complex story who never fails to draw me in. I love her. She's your baby, and you should be proud of her.

Also, quick question about personality types: I know you've typed Javi as ESFP and Ears as ENTP (100% agree on both, btw), but have you given any thought to their enneagram types? I personally have always seen Ears as being somewhere on the thinking triad, maybe a 7 or even a 6w7, but I'm not too sure about Javi. 9w8 maybe? He could also be a 6w5 🤔

PARTING THOUGHTS

Basically, I love your story, your characters and your writing in general. You are a fantastic storyteller and wordsmith. You get into the heads of incredibly different characters personality-wise (Ears, Javi, Berna...) and manage to capture all of their complexities and quirks every single time. And it doesn't feel like it's something innate for you either. To me, it seems that you have put a lot of work and effort into understanding each and every one of your characters, who they are, why they do what they do and what they want. And let me tell you, all that effort has been more than worth it. "Better Love" is a fanfic, but it wouldn't be out of place in a regular bookstore, if I'm honest. I don't know what you do for a living or if you've ever considered writing professionally, but you clearly have the skills and the drive to create some masterpieces.

You are amazing and your writing is a gift. Thank you for sharing it with us, and have a nice day! ~ 🍪

My friend, I apologize for hoarding your first ask. I’ve been sitting on it because I’m not gonna lie, I enjoy going back and rereading it. It gave me a lot of comfort when I was in a pretty dark place, both personally and in regards to my writing, and I was reluctant to send it out into the the abyss of Tumblr where I might never see it again.

That’s not fair, though. You put just as much effort into sending me that review as I put into my writing, and I apologize for never responding to you.

Okay, anyway, so twice now, you’ve made me cry. In a good way, I promise!

I absolutely love your bread/flour metaphor. It made perfect sense. I want the emotional release of Javi and Hannah’s reunion to be earned, and in order to do that, the angst has to come first (there are also a few plot “ingredients” that have yet to make their appearances). Thank you very much for understanding that, and for voicing it so eloquently.

I appreciate your comments on my research and characterization. You’re correct that I’ve put a lot of time and effort into crafting a universe. In a lot of ways, I’m doing my best to stay true to the source material (regarding culture and timelines in particular), and in others, I’m branching into my own territory.

On that note, I’ve never once regretted fully embracing Hannah Aarons’ identity as an OC. She’s stayed consistent in my mind from the beginning, and it was a relief to finally share my vision of her with the audience. And for the record, I totally agree with you regarding “reader” characters. Every reader insert echoes the perspective of their author, no matter how vague the physical description. I can only imagine how grating that must be from the perspective of a non-white, non-american reader. Thank you so much for sharing your insight! I will certainly keep it in mind the next time I write a “reader insert” fic.

Okay, enneagrams! I am much less familiar with enneagram than I am MBTI, but I agree 110% that Javi is a 9 with a strong 8 wing. I waffled back and forth on Ears a little, but eventually landed on 8w7 for her. It came down to the eight’s deepest fear, which is being controlled. That’s Ears all over, and the fact that she and Javi share that eight willfulness means that they might butt heads a little, which also seems very appropriate for them. Big thanks to @remusstark for her insight into the eight frame of mind - our conversations helped solidify my decision on this. :)

Anyway, I’m just rambling now. The big take-away point that I want you to get is that I am so, so grateful to you, both for your insightful feedback and your dedication in making sure that I actually saw it. You are an absolute gem and a deep thinker, Cookie-Anon, and if you ever feel like sliding into my DM’s, I’d welcome the opportunity to get to know you better.

Mad love and soft hugs,

~ Jay

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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

Text

Le Bien Qui Fait Mal - Dave x Reader (Lost River)

GIF Credit: X

@mandy23b @wltz-bby @happyskywhale #mendotagsquad

Dave + 27 - “No. Regrets.” Requested by @sufferthesea

Author’s Note: Special mention to @crawlingmist for building on my plot. It’s with great pleasure that I get to bring you this, with a song from my favourite musical! 😏😁

I barely needed to edit this one either. Sometimes, sometimes I get it just right... The translated lyrics to the song are below, but really you need the song. No matter that it’s in French. It’s very Dave. The whole Aesthetic.

Le Bien Qui Fait Mal - Mozart L’Opera Rock Disclaimer: MoR lyrics not mine / Lost River and all associated things not mine / gif not mine / some direct quoting from ‘Lost River’ used 😅

Premise: You’re the first singer that Dave has employed at his club, you also have a ‘je ne sais quoi’ that floods his thoughts. His curiosity can only be sated one way...

Words: 2530

Warnings: Sexual Connotations/Pre-Amble / Swearing

--- Where is this strange feeling coming from? It fascinates me as much as it unsettles me I shiver, pieced by beauty It’s like a knife in my soul The wound goes through my heart And I take joy in the pain Intoxicated by this poison Until I lose my mind! It’s so good it hurts When you love, your hatred is perfectly normal Take Pleasure It’s so good to suffer Succumb to the spell Shed your tears It’s so good it hurts (hurts me) When you love, your sorrow is perfectly banal (it’s so good it hurts) True delights Come from torture Lower your weapons Shed your tears I feel violent urges It seems like I’m slipping into the depths If I ignore the source of this curse I love letting it under my skin Bewitched by mad ideas Suddenly my urges arise Desire becomes my prison Until I lose my mind!

---

The world was spinning. Like he was drunk, or maybe high. Or maybe he was something else...

Whatever he was, Dave was out of his head. He was going crazy; he was confused. Because he didn’t know why. You? The sound of your voice? What you were wearing? All of it? All of that in this setting? He wanted so badly to look away but Dave couldn’t tear his eyes from you. The pleasure was insane, but it almost hurt just as bad. Wasn’t that the point, after all. Wasn’t that why this club existed?

Dave didn’t have a singer at his club. He didn’t see himself as counting, he didn’t sing every night. It was a rarity; his treat and gift to everyone. Until you. And Dave wasn’t here every night to listen to you sing - but right now he felt that was going to change. He had heard you sing before - your voice sweet and pretty, gently melodic. One that - in his opinion - would sound good mixed with his (no matter what way that would be). But a short one song audition for him and a voice he liked wasn’t this.

This was a culmination of all of that. Yet your voice tonight? Oooh... this was deeper, richer, sultry. With the music and lyrics too? Dave thought about loosening buttons. He relaxed the way he was sitting and tried to take a calming deep breath. It helped nothing. He wondered if you’d been nervous before - a job you desperately needed? - now you were in your element; but it couldn’t have been him that had made you nervous. Because, as if feeling like this wasn’t enough, your eyes hadn’t moved from staring at him.

Usually Dave would love to have a gorgeous woman stare at him like this. He was a typical ‘love them and leave them.’ People didn’t steal his heart - the only relationship Dave was ever really after was physical. And yes, yes, you were affecting him like that. He’d make sure you knew you didn’t get to give him such a stare without being pinned up against something, somewhere. Still, his heart. His pulse was running wild - Dave didn’t blush, but if he thought he was capable… He didn’t know what was happening, but he felt sick. Dave shifted again, finally able to prize his eyes away from you. He squeezed them tightly shut, feeling lightheaded once more. Rob leant over, “You okay?” “Yeah...” Dave counted himself lucky that his voice managed to be that steady, then he nodded “Yeah.” Then waved towards the stage, “After she’s done. Send her to me.” He cleared his throat, eyes drawn back to you. “I think we need a little talk...”

** The club was emptying by the time you got a chance to go to him. That was mostly because Rob, with his own duties, was delayed in getting the message to you, and you had a few things you had to attend to yourself before you heeded Dave’s call. By that time it was getting late anyway, so you preferred to wait until the club was quiet to go to him. Dave found the waiting time more agony than he could possibly imagine. He was supposed to be enjoying everyone else’s performances, but he simply couldn’t. His mind stirred and always sent him back to you – the way it felt like those eyes of yours were reaching into his very soul and uncovering the darkest secrets he held, it was more than just seeing through him – you were undoing him, piece by piece. And sitting here waiting for you, Dave was forced to relive it. He closed his eyes trying to block you out, somehow, but you were already in his head. You weren’t about to let go. With realisation, Dave knew that he wouldn’t let you go either. Not until he had what you had him aching for. When you walked smoothly back out onto the stage, Dave was still sitting at his top table. One leg crossed over the other he was tipping his chair back – taking long, slow drags from his cigarette. His blue eyes flicked to you as soon as he noticed your presence. Even without the lights and the ambiance, you were still striking standing up there. He couldn’t ignore that; it clearly wasn’t the club, it was just you – and you were setting him on fire. Dave kept his eyes on you as he placed his cigarette to his lips once more and you swallowed hard, you weren’t sure that you could trust him. You weren’t sure about a lot of things, this job and the people that worked here. But you were sure that you wanted him, and nearly just as sure that he felt the same. Even from way up here, it wasn’t hard to see your effect on him considering you’d been watching him for your entire set. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise- Would you like me to come and sit with you?” You were gentle and polite, and moved towards the steps down onto the floor. Dave stilled you as he set his chair back on all four legs and rose, taking one last drag before he stubbed out his cigarette. “Stay.” He walked across the room, not breaking your eye contact. Dangerous. Yet, you were attracted to that danger. Dave joined you on stage, wasting no time; “Pick a song.” “Sorry?” “A song. Pick one.” It was more of a demand than anything, yet it still left you confused. “May I ask why?” He wasn’t sure if he was impressed with you or annoyed. Why would you not just do as he asked? And yet he admired that you weren’t shying away from him with a timid stammer. “Sing with me.” Your face flushed, but your nerve held; “You sing?” Then before he could respond, which meant Dave was reduced to nodding, “Why ask me to perform if you can sing?” “Why wear out my talents every evening?” Dave turned his eyes to the empty room and flashed a smirk, “No. I’ll only sing on occasion, my dear – not everyone out there deserves to hear me.” You dared to look away from him to find some kind of music player – the lack of one would mean he wanted to sing with you acapella. You regarded him again, wondering what his singing voice was like. What it might feel like to hear it for the first time – if he’d be able to harmonize with you. What if it was you that couldn’t harmonize with him? He stared at you again, curiously, awaiting your answer. “What if you don’t know it?” “You’d be surprised. What’s your choice?” “There’s no music.” “You best not be trying to get out of this…” He walked forward to the microphones, beckoning you with him – and you followed. Unnervingly eager to hear this for yourself. “With a voice as intoxicating as yours, you hardly need musical accompaniment.” Dave’s eyes flashed and your lips parted – but you realised he was daring you to retaliate to such a seemingly forbidden piece of information. “Now come on.” He placed his hand to the shell of his ear, “I still haven’t heard a name…” You gave him one and for a moment you wondered if you had found something he didn’t know, as Dave stood in silence staring at the ceiling. You nearly jumped as the eerie silence was suddenly filled with a hummed melody at his recollection. The smirk returned as his gaze fell back to your face. “Am I right?” “…Yes…” You breathed, stepping to the mic. He took a step away and nodded, indicating that the floor was yours. Convinced that none of this could have been for a good reason, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes; imagining the opening notes in your head, imagining there was really a band behind you and crowd in front. All here for you, but also him. You opened your eyes again and with your confidence, incredibly, sky-high you began singing. Dave lost it almost immediately. You were still dressed as you had been when you’d performed; to be honest with the level of attraction he was still feeling towards you – whether that be purely lust, or something more, he didn’t know – it would have been enough. But when there was no music to focus on, when it was just your voice, it was almost worse. Beautiful and haunting, as you hit every note; Dave didn’t even think you’d have needed a microphone what with the way it echoed around the deserted building. You had no pressure here, no one was focusing on you, you didn’t have to be the source of entertainment – just to sing whatever you wanted. Then he joined you, and were you not in the zone, you would have tripped on your notes – you certainly nearly lost key as he brought his up to yours. His voice was smooth and rich, a little different to that semi-raspy tone he usually talked with. And as you continued to sing together, playfully pushing him into high and low sections, between softer sequences and real power notes you couldn’t help but be shocked at the range he had. A voice that was persuasive, seductive, but, like him, not quite true and trustworthy. A voice that didn’t ask you to do something, but gently implied you should do it – until it was all you could think about. Until you wanted to do it for him. Not ‘will you?’; ‘You will.’. You weren’t sure what that thing was either, but it certainly had a hold of you – and you had a distinct feeling you were now looking at each other in exactly the same way. You were both asking for trouble. As the song and your voices faded out, and the room lapsed back into silence, your ears were ringing. The tension you felt in your body surrounded you, it was in the very air you were breathing – and Dave crossed the stage with purpose before grabbing you. You expected it, the way he pulled you into him, and your fingers dug into his arms as his kiss engulfed you. It felt better than the sound of his voice insisted that it would, and you were sure you were going insane at the feel of him this close to you. His pull back was quick and violent – and although his blue eyes were dark and telling you exactly what he wanted, his glare was also hard. But you were smirking; because you had Dave right where you wanted him. “Who are you?” “Too much for you to handle.” You stepped back into him, letting him know that you were hardly afraid of him – nor to admit what you wanted. His intake of breath was sharp and he shook his head, eyes searching yours for a sign that you were teasing. You best not be – you best mean it. “Y/N. Let me tell you something, right now. I like to fuck and when I meet a bad bitch, it drives me crazy. But you drive me crazier than any other fucking woman I’ve ever known. And I want you NOW.” He wasn’t sure what he would see in you as he gripped you a little tighter, but your smile was not it. It didn’t look like it belonged on your face, sinfully wicked, to accompany your small laugh. You very nearly took Dave’s breath away. Your eyes ran his body as you replied, drawing up slowly, the lip bite was teasing – but the kind he wanted to tolerate; “I’ve been here enough times to have seen you sitting on your little table. And you drive me crazy.” You pulled him closer to your body, wrapping your arms around his neck and locked your intense stare with his; “Coincidentally - you’re the only man in this club I’m here for, and the only one I’d let put his hands all over me.” Dave bit his lip, this hum not of notes but of satisfaction. You meant business. You craved him as much as he did you. With your arms around his neck the decision was already made, he hoisted you off the floor and walked you from the stage to the first table he saw. Though the patrons had vacated the premises, drinks glasses and bottles still adorned nearly all the tables. But with your body pressed up against his, and the feel of your heart beat – erratic in anticipation – Dave couldn’t care less about that. Holding you strong in one arm he cleared the table with one sweep of his other, before laying you back on it. The crash of breaking glass deterred neither one of you. But he paused for just a second as his hands found either side of your waist. “Promise me something.” You tilted your head to the side, wondering what exactly Dave – of all people – would want you to promise now. Why he’d want you to promise anything. You weren’t exactly sure you cared if this was a one-time thing. “What is it you want me to promise?” “That you won’t regret this.” You raised an eyebrow, wondering if that was something he should be saying. Did women often regret sleeping with him? Instead you simply smiled, pulling him down to kiss you. “No. Regrets.” His eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he accepted your kiss, and then he straightened. Hooking your legs around himself Dave held you there, gaze locking with yours again. It was clear he wanted you to know exactly what you were doing to him with the way he pushed himself against you. You didn’t see the point in holding back your groan – Dave already knew you craved him. His fingertips grazing along your skin, taking your dress with them, was something else altogether – and as he rolled his hips over yours, your eyes fluttered closed. “Oh… Dave…” Your voice was soft, whispered just for him. His fingers brushed down your thighs as your dress climbed higher up your body. Dave paused again, with a delicious little smirk before he bent to kiss you once more – liking the feel of your fingers running through his hair to mess it up. He figured he’d quite like you to be pulling it, but Dave would save that for later. “You are so fucking beautiful.” He placed his hands on your hips, and had the audacity to wink at you. He got the feeling you’d be feisty. He liked that. Dave hooked his fingers under your lingerie, and pushing them to one side. His blue eyes flashed once more, darkening as they flicked back to your face. All he wished to know then was if your sex was as torturous as your presence. What that gorgeous voice of yours would sound like now. So good it hurts… You bit your lip, moving your hips eagerly in anticipation. You got the feeling by the look on his face, that regret wasn’t even going to remotely factor into this.

---

8/16 - We are half way there!

Thank you for reading! 😁🙏

#Dave #Lost River #Ben Mendelsohn #/Sven Voice/ Oh! David!#Linzi Writes #Linzi Writes Requests #Smol Bean Drabbles #I love this man toooo much #OH! MoR songs! I need to use a bunch more #There's one I want to use for Martin that translates as /solos beneath the sheets/#(but is definitely NOT about being solo!)#Dave is fic 160! Woo!#160 #Add this one to the: fics I wrote with lines that blow me away #i have so much inconsistency with the way I post these oh my god...

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eltanin-malfoy · 4 years

Text

Epilogue (Kill Or Be Killed VI)

pairing : draco/fem-collegestudent!y/n

word count : 3.8k!

Table Of Contents

warnings : my sad sense of humour, cursing, a bit of a plot twist

a/n : okay i know IM SORRY I HAVEN”T POSTED IN SO LONG I HAVE NO EXCUSES. i have a bunch of fics fully written which i feel super insecure abt. (even a spicy drarry one) at this point i’ve kind of gotten into this circle of being overly critical of what i write and overanalyzing every detail to the point i can’t really tell if what i wrote has any worth. nevertheless i’ve been putting this off way too long so i’m finally gonna post this! and i hope that y’all like it. this is def gonna be different than what you may have been expecting but i implore you to read all of it!! up till my author’s note at the bottom.

taglist: @acciodracoo @drawlfoy @war-sword @lilyreachelcassidy @socontagiousimagines @andreasworlsboring101

What does one do when they’re on the run, you ask?

Well, Draco doesn’t really know either. It’s pretty obvious. In fact, he isn’t even sure whether you’d call wanting to hide from someone you almost murdered who now wants to kill you “being on the run”. He thinks it’s somewhere between hiding and just.. being a right coward.

He runs a few blocks, takes a shortcut to his house, packs up his belongings and wipes any clear identifiers of him off the place. Driving licenses, passports, just anything. Even those little clear strands of hair he’d usually just ignore. Then he covers his hair up with one of those ridiculous beanies, slips on a turtleneck sweater and covers his mouth with it. (He would have covered his nose up as well if it hadn’t been for his.. giraffe-like neck)

It doesn’t take him very long to start to venture out of his house, scoping the vicinity for any prying (Y/N) eyes. He’s alone in the alleyway, except for a homeless man sitting at the edge of the road. Covering himself with a blanket. He seems to be asleep until, well, Draco very gracefully stumbles against some cracked up bitumen. The man sits up, stirring slowly. His eyes blink rapidly as he comes to, the sun shining down bright just at the spot he’s decided to rest at. His eyes are a brilliant blue and they almost glitter in the sunlight. He meets his gaze, just for a second. There’s something so nostalgic about it. Something so familiar, yet so very strange.

Nonetheless, Draco is still very much supposed to be getting out of there. So, he turns to the side, and starts to.. jog. Running would be abnormal at this time of day after all.

He jogs and jogs and jogs. His skinny, dainty looking legs are strangely useful for this task. He gets to a tube station just far enough from his place to avoid suspicion. Then, he does what anyone would do, and heads into the public restroom for a nice, long (and mostly silent) cry. He rushes into a cubicle, locks it behind him and then turns to face the door, covering his face. He weeps and weeps and weeps.

He was in love with her, wasn’t he! He was so stupid! How couldn’t he have known! How could he have idolized someone and somehow have completely missed out the fact that the man had had kids! Should he have just left her like that? All alone in her apartment after she’d been crying about him? Well.. it was true that she was planning on killing him. But oh dear god, she’d definitely been near changing at that final moment… oh dear god, what was he going to do? Where was he going to go?

He thinks he sniffles too loud at one point and an oddly gruff voice in the cubicle to his right just goes “That shit not going too well, son?”, and then he laughs. Ugh.

Draco waits until he’s pretty sure that that man is gone and then he steps out, heading straight for the washbasins at the front. He’s wiped his face with toilet paper enough that he hopes it isn’t too obvious to anyone outside. A man, somehow even lankier than him, is standing at the washbasin beside his, rubbing at his hands so hard with soap you’d think there was something stuck to it. His hair.. isn’t looking too good. Neither is his face. The man notices him step to the front and seems practically captivated by him, keeps staring at him for 10 seconds straight, until he finally says, “You know you’re not allowed to do crack in here, right?”

Draco then blushes a fierce pink.

***

Draco’s quick after that, topping up his Oyster card and calling his broadband provider to cancel his wifi subscription. He even gets his number changed while he’s on the train. There’s more people there than he’s used to, but he looks ridiculous enough in his get up that most people sit as far away from him as they can. He’s thankful Y/N hasn’t found him yet though. Although, as he’s thought about it now, she probably wouldn’t follow him. At least not too far.

Then he changes lines a bunch of times and rides the train all the way to Heathrow Airport. Aha! Do you think he’s about to take a flight out of the country? Because he isn’t! Instead, he calls up Blaise and almost cries about needing help.

“It’s an emergency, mate, I swear!”

“Oh my god, Malfoy.”

“Please, Blaise, for old time’s sake. I’m not too far from your house too. I’m at Heathrow. It’d take you five minutes…”

“Are you kidding me? I’ve just woken up, and this is what you’re calling me for? After months of not speaking?”

“I texted you but you never responded, mate. Come on… please? I thought we’d be buds forever.”

Blaise scoffs.

“Fine, blondie. I’ll be there in half an hour. Be at the pick up place when I get there, or I’m leaving. And you really fucking owe me, you know that.”

Draco sighs. “I know… thank you so much.”

“Yeah, bye.”

It isn’t long before Blaise shows up right where he said he would. And Draco is right there! His turtleneck pulled down now. He runs forward as Blaise steps out of his car and throws his arms around his abdomen.

“Oh, god, bruv.” Blaise pushes him back gently. “I was only coming out because I thought you’d have luggage or some shit. Were you travelling light for once?”

“I… I wasn’t here to catch a flight. Or get off one”

“So.. you were going to drop someone off?”

“No…”

“Oh god, you came here just to get me here, didn’t you? Jesus fuck-” He turns around, assumingly getting ready to leave.

“Bini, please.” He puts a hand on the top of his beanie.

“I should literally just run you over for that one.” His face knits up slightly and he pauses, before soon beginning to smile. “Okay, I guess. I’ll drop you where you want me to..”

“I.. I kind of don’t have a place to be dropped off at.”

“You don’t? Where you planning on going then?”

“I was… kind of hoping…”

“Draco… always a needy little fuck, aren’t you?” He brings a hand to his temple, pressing his fingertips to it.

“Please, Blaise.. I let you stay over all those times as well.. all those times at my manor when we were kids… ”

“Christ, you don’t stop with the sentimental stuff, do you? Why do you have to know all of my weaknesses… okay. But only because Mum’s out of the country at the moment. If she knew you were staying over.. she would have gotten real mad.”

Draco doesn’t really say anything after that. He supposes Esme has somewhat of a reason to not want Draco around. What his Father had done wasn’t exactly... good for the reputations of those associated with him or his bloodline. But it was definitely nice of Blaise to offer him a place like this.

“Thank you.”

Blaise looks over at him at that.

“Did roughing it up on your own teach you how to be nice, Draco?”

“Maybe it did.”

***

So, yes, Draco does stay at Blaise’s place for a while. He does come clean to Blaise about everything that happened (“You… tried to what a girl, mate?”, followed by Blaise running out of the room and attempting to hide from Draco, while Draco running after him, trying to apologise and explain himself) And yes, he does agree to go to a therapist. A nice, motherly one who allows him to cry in front of him with little interruption. (Just a little “D’you want some tissues, love?”) And yes, he does spend a lot of time thinking about Y/N. He cries and listens to Harry Styles and Frank Ocean some. (Even though he hasn’t actually had his heart broken or anything of the sort! Draco is one hell of a dramatic little bitch, huh?)

What he does begin to understand is his own constant self-victimization. He’s always found a way to find someone to blame for every little trouble in his life. His parents were why he was so bitchy and spoilt all the time, Potter was why he wasn’t as popular as he deserved to be at school, Granger was why he wasn’t the best student at school, his mum was why he wasn’t so open to having a girlfriend much too different from him and… well.. this was all bullshit, wasn’t it?

He was being childish. He was so bitchy and spoilt, well, because he thought he was better than everyone else. He did for so long, all the time. He could only play it down when he needed to, but if he really didn’t like anyone he made it very clear that he thought they were inferior to him. He wasn’t popular at school because he treated everyone like he was better than them and Potter was just… nicer and understandably more famous than him (Draco still hates him though). He wasn’t the best student at school because Granger.. was simply more hardworking than he was. (Hey, he had to accept it at some point, didn’t he?) He wasn’t anywhere near how damn good she was… at everything.

And he wasn’t so open to having a girlfriend much too different from him because… he was too used to everything being the way it had always been for him. He had grown up in the same house, stayed in a similar friend circle his whole life, always had the same taste of.. basically everything. That’s why he was so goddamn angry when everything just blew up for his family. Everything he was used to… was gone. He was no longer rich, no longer privileged the way he had always been. And again, he reacted by… well… channeling all his anger towards the person who had seemingly been responsible for that. He didn’t need to be as angry as he had been at his father. Sure, he was smuggling artifacts and even keeping some illegal works as decoration for their estate, but it’s not like Draco hadn’t known about it for as long as he had. He’d even been an adult when he… enabled everything that he knew happened behind closed doors.

But his father did do everything he did for him. He did thinking he would best be able to provide for Draco and his mum that way. It was true that he was never much too generous, but he wasn’t only because he wanted to invest the money towards his own family’s wellbeing. He supposed he could understand that. And his parents were always, always mindful of his wants. Whether it was buying every boy on his secondary school house’s team a new cricket bat so he could get on with them, to what he wanted to study at uni, his parents always had his back.

Obviously, their “work” hadn’t exactly been safe and Draco wasn’t properly insured to be able to keep up his lifestyle without them or their accounts, so that had been irresponsible on their part. But his childhood could not be considered less than good. At all. He was only ever upset because of problems he kept making up himself. And because of him distancing himself from others by thinking he was too good to mix with them.

This whole change in lifestyle had done more harm than good in terms of his personality, in a way. He’d grown a conscience. It had started by him getting angry at everyone in the place of privilege he’d once had. First, he’d gotten mad at his father for getting him where he was, then he’d hated his friends from pulling back from him, and then… well.. he’d begun to hate Y/N for being able to study and afford nice things for herself.

His stupid fixation on Hoyt was him looking up to someone he really, really shouldn’t have. Instead of looking up to actual great chemists like Lavoisier or Avogadro, he’d idolized... someone who’d used his knowledge of chemistry for all the wrong reasons. Again, him trying to get back at people who’d stayed rich while he’d lost all his wealth. Instead of working to be more successful than them or anything of the sort, he’d gone straight to the extreme and tried to think about how best to kill one he’d grown envious of.

The interesting thing is, he doesn’t come close to seeing (or even thinking about) Y/N for a while. He lives harmoniously. He writes to Oxford and tries to get back into his second year. He writes to his college there and even applies for a need-based scholarship.

What’s surprising is, he gets it! He gets back in! His grades back then were reason enough for him to be readmitted into the program, and he just feels thankful for a second that Granger was never interested in taking up Chemistry at uni. He gets himself a job near Blaise’s place, rents another apartment, has a birthday party for Blaise there and meets up with his old friends again. They’ve all grown apart a bit now (understandably so, he was sort of.. the one who bossed everyone to be together most of the time). He even grows closer to them than he ever has before. Actually feels like they’re his friends.. rather than his minions.

It’s springtime and there’s still a lot of time until he has to get back to Oxford that fall. Somehow, even with his parents still in custody, everything seems to have somehow fallen back in place. Even better than before. Everything seems… peaceful.

That is, until he runs into Y/N at his therapist’s office! (Yes, you read that right! :)

He’s only sitting in the waiting room, reading something silly on his phone when he hears… that voice. Stepping out of the therapist’s office.

“Thank you so much, again.”

The woman inside mutters something inaudible in response and Y/N giggles softly. Oh, dear god.

He looks straight up at her, slowly pressing his phone into his lap. Oh no, oh no? Should he be here right now? Should he have told Molly Y/N’s name when he was explaining everything? Has Y/N told her about him? Has she connected the dots at all? Has Y/N followed him here? If Y/N actually has no idea he’s here, how on earth is she going to respond to the sight of him? Should he hide, for her sake? Would Y/N think he was stalking her again? Would Y/N think he was doing the same thing now and have some sort of attack in the office? He quickly looks to his lap again, trying his best to somehow hide away from her. Even though he was alone in the waiting room… and he was quite a bit taller than the seat he was sitting in.. and his blonde hair wasn’t exactly subtle. Maybe he really should have dyed it darker, that time he was considering it, maybe he was right about that. Maybe it’d even su-

“Draco?”

Oh, fuck.

He looks up at her, meeting her gaze a little slowly, eyes scoping out every plant pot in the back before they finally… reach.. their.. target. His ears are burning now, and it’s so quiet there that he can hear the blood rushing through them. Neither of them says a word, until, well, she does.

“Either this is everything all over gone or this one mother of a coincidence.”

She grips her purse a little tighter but she smiles at him brightly. Draco… then… smiles back. He should be careful, shouldn’t he? She’s lured him in once like this. And there’s no reason for her to be so nice to him. Not… after everything. She should hate him. She really should. Is she on something? Does she take meds? Or is she nicer when she doesn’t think worse of you? But shouldn’t she be thinking worse of him? If anyone should be doing that, it should be h-

“Hello?” She’s waving her hand in front of his face. Her nails aren’t manicured as they were before. “Why do you keep spacing out? Should I call her or something?”

“N-no. I’m just- I wasn’t expecting this today… not exactly… prepared. I- I guess I never really got to say it to you then.. I’m sorry. For everything… I-”

“Draco, maybe this isn’t the best place to… you know… just openly talk about this.” She gestures towards the receptionist in the corner, who looks up for a second, then, noticing the gesture, quickly looks down again. “Why don’t I.. um.. I’ll wait for you outside, yeah?”

“Y-you will?”

“I- well, yes. I don’t see why not. Not really in a rush to get anywhere right now. I have some chores to do round here. Why don’t I meet you at the cafe round the corner after your appointment? It’s an hour long, right? The one facing the Waitrose?”

“Yeah, um.. you’re not scared or.. anything like that? I totally understand if you are.”

“No.. I mean.. we know whom between us is that much better at self defense anyways. And I suppose it’d be best for me to take it in my stride after everything.”

“If you- if you really think so, I’m down for it.”

“See ya then. Good luck.”

And with that, she heads out. She’s wearing a light pair of jeans this time. With a full sleeved green top. The jeans are tight. In the best way possible.

He shakes his head and gets himself out of it. What the fuck is wrong with him? He is not seventeen anymore. He needs to get back to himself. He can’t just get hormonal at the sight of a pretty girl.

He rushes into his therapist’s office, and very soon, begins to pour his heart out to her. He tells her explicitly what happened with Y/N herself. And Molly, oh dear me, is a little overwhelmed. She’s just as lovely, though.

“Oh my. You’ve gotten yourself into something, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I suppose-, well, what do you feel you should do about this?”

“What do you mean? What do you think? I’m confused!”

“I- you have to decide what to do, don’t you? I’m here to listen, clear your head about it and let’s help you make a judgement.”

“Molly!”

“Draco! Now, go on.”

***

Somehow, within that space of an hour, Draco does come to a decision.

The decision to risk it all and try to go out with her again!

He does stay much safer this time around, though. He sends people he’s close to his location. And tells them what to do if he doesn’t wish them goodnight that night. (“just call the police”)

He sits down with her at the cafe and he pours his heart out to her as well. God knew this morning would involve him literally having to do this with two grown woman! Well, at least the one of them was expected. The other… however… also seems to empathise with him as well. To some extent.

“I… well… I suppose I can’t exactly forgive you for just deciding upon killing me the way that you did. That’s mighty fucked up. But… I see the position that you were in.”

“I- yeah.” Draco just shrugs, offering a sort of tightlipped smile. “I get it.”

“It’s amazing to finally be able to wrap my head around it somewhat, though. For so long, I thought you were still lying to me about… the… my father thing. But now I can.. somewhat grasp it. I suppose.”

“It was extremely messed up.”

“It was. But it’s not like I didn’t-”

“I mean, that seemed more like self-defense to me than anything. Yours made a lot more sense than mine.”

“Oh, that’s for sure. I’ve… kind of always been super paranoid about anything to do with… him. My mother always tells me to be careful so I kind of… took it much too far. That’s sort of why I started going for therapy. I would get such bad anxiety from the simplest of things. I’d taken a long self defense course last year, even though my mom's already had me doing Tae Kwondo since I was in primary school. And you saw what I did with you. I had knives, pepper sprays, everything and anything I would need. I’d set up an alarm system in my apartment and always spoke to someone when I went to sleep and when I woke up. I was just… constantly on edge. And you kind of just… tipped me over it, you know.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry about it. Still. I have no excuses.”

“I appreciate you saying that.”

She smiles at Draco. And he does the same. Something flutters up and down his stomach.

“I’m so glad we could talk this through, yeah? But I should get going. I do have to study and everything.”

“I-” Should Draco give up on this chance. Is this worth it? Could she ever even say yes? Perhaps she would. “Should we trade numbers? Just so we can keep in touch about it.”

“I’m-” She sighs and looks down at her lap, then up at him again. She sets her elbow on the table and leans forward the slightest, setting her chin on her palm. “I’m really sorry… but with the way things went last time… and with my recovering mental health, I just- I wouldn’t feel comfortable with it. I’m so so glad we could go over everything and come to some mutual understanding but… I don’t think I could-”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry. It’s all good. I totally get it.”

To his surprise, his heart didn’t sink. She reaches over and gently squeezes his forearm.

“Maybe we’ll meet again, huh?”

“Maybe we will.”

And Draco walked out of there, not unhappy, but finally feeling like he’d received some closure. He’d erred greatly and he really did deserve what he’d gotten (or not gotten). He’d really tried to get over her already, so it really didn’t sting when she said what she did.

For once, he knew what to expect. And he felt happy about it. Maybe he didn’t get to do bits with her, but that hardly mattered. At least now she knew the truth about him.

What mattered most was that the next chapter of his life was only leading him forwards.

a/n: thank you so so sos os so sososososososooooo much for reading through this series. this is very close to my heart and i appreciate each and everyone who’s managed to keep up with all of it. This final part i also chose to end without really bringing the characters together because… Y/N does not deserve it. for her, that would be the bad ending. i did this because i just think that girls often do not realise that they deserve more than the attractive guy who tries to be bad. this sounds hypocritical coming from well… me… someone who runs a draco blog, but what i’m trying to say is, we shouldn’t settle. a lot of times i feel like we forget to place ourselves in the shoes of the actual character. for what reason would you ever go out or sleep with someone who had ever planned to kill you! their good looks just won’t cut it if so, no? i feel like this is the best ending for the both of them, because draco learns to actualise his potential and to stop blaming everyone else in his life for all his problems, and y/n learns to heal from the struggles she’s had and both their endings are left pretty open. also, i feel like a lot of fanfic endings/plot developments are compromised just to get the main pairing together in the end. so. yeah. also mental health is something i really prioritise, and i thought doing this just does so much justice for both of them mentally. i’d be happy to hear your thoughts and any feedback you have! thank you so much for reading through you all of this as well. love you so much <3

#draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco #hp #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #hp imagine #angst #romance #murder

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milkygcf · 4 years

Note

Hi! Can I maybe request a Seokjin X reader story where they argue about something dumb and realise it straight after?

//credits to @kimseokjin for the gif//

Pairing | ksj x reader

Genre | fluff

Warnings | food! if you’re not comfortable with the subject of food then this is not for you :(

Summary | ❝ Hi! Can I maybe request a Seokjin X reader story where they argue about something dumb and realise it straight after?❞

Word Count | 1.3k

Author’s Note | this has taken so long to finally post. it took me a while to finalize a plot, and once i figured it out, i rush wrote it so i wouldn’t keep you waiting! 🥺 i hope you like it nonetheless ❤ ________________________________________________________________

You’ve been looking forward to that subway sandwich since the moment your stomach betrayed you during work. Right - just as you’re about to take an order, your stomach lets out the loudest, most embarrassing sound.

Your feet exhaustingly stomp up your apartment stairs, keys jingling lightly as you finally arrive home. Ah, the bliss of entering your humble abode after a long day of painful work. A gentle smile braces your lips as you spot your dear boyfriend splayed out on the couch playing god knows what on his phone.

“Jinnie! Did you prepare my sandwich?”

He looks up at you from behind the back pillows, fingers morphing into a thumbs up. “Right! It’s on the kitchen counter.” And you’re ever so grateful for his very existence. You could pronounce him your life and saviour.

But to your disdain, the only thing laying on the kitchen counter was one of your porcelain plates, crumbs littering both the island and the plate itself. Your well-desired subway sandwich was nowhere to be found.

You frown. “God, the least you could do is make me something to eat if you went ahead and ate it all,” you scoff at him, crossing your arms over your chest at the scene before you. Seokjin sits up to look at you in perplexity, eyes flying over to the empty plate.

“What? I didn’t eat it…?” He tries to reason with furrowed eyebrows. The situation was quite palpable - why else would your beloved subway sandwich be left in crumbs? He was the only possible culprit. “What?” Seokjin continues as he approaches you, his lips tugging downwards.

A sigh drags out of your lips. “It’s fine, yeah? I’ll just whip myself some instant noodles.” You place an affectionate kiss atop of his cheek, raising an eyebrow at him. “Just make sure you don’t eat my food next time.”

Seokjin stands there, utterly flabbergasted. He still can’t fathom how or why there was absolutely nothing on your plate when he was confident he’d prepared it about 40 minutes ago. Not only that - you were blaming him for the felony.

Well, in truth, he could’ve been the only culprit.

His love and devotion for cuisine goes deep, but Seokjin would never repress you from your subway sandwich - he knew better than to do so.

It’s left at that - he decides it’s best not to think much about it, more so when you are dead tired and want nothing but to sit in peace and quiet. His mind still whirls in utter disorientation, unable to wrap himself around what just happened.

However, this somehow doesn’t come to an end.

You’re laid back on your bed flipping through an old magazine you found haphazardly lying around on your desk. Having nothing better to do, you figured you’d throw a face mask on and read whatever silliness your past self decided to waste money on.

There’s a distant sound in the kitchen, you brush it off as Seokjin coming back from whatever errand he had to do.

He doesn’t greet you or anything and you can still hear the shuffling in the other room. Although you were too engulfed in the obnoxiously pink pages of the magazine to pay mind.

About an hour or so later you’re lazily scrolling through your phone, your eyelids drooping exhaustingly. You’re just about to turn it off and sleep, when a distraught Seokjin bursts through your bedroom door, evidently upset.

His hand wraps tightly around your bedroom door knob. “Listen, I know you blame me for eating your sandwich, but that doesn’t give you reason to eat my food.”

What was he talking about?

“Your food?” You prop yourself up onto your elbows, lips tugging down in a frown. “I haven’t gotten up from this slump since you left.”

Now, Seokjin understands your position. He’d been in the same one last time as well, and even though it doesn’t explain whatever happened to his scrumptious meal, he figures he shouldn’t be so rough.

“Are you sure?” He pushes, “There’s literally crumbs, Y/N. I can’t satisfy my hunger from crumbs!”

“I’m positive, Seokjin. Why would I eat your food?”

There are many instances in which you’ve actually done this, so frankly, you can’t really be blamed for being pinpointed with these accusations. However this time, you weren’t the one behind the felony.

Well, unless you unknowingly fell asleep and sleep-ate his food. Was that even a thing?

“It couldn’t have just disappeared all by itself…” The reason in his voice is uncertain. He lazily leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms atop of his chest. “Well, in that case, this makes us even, doesn't it?” This makes your lips tug downwards even more. “You thought I ate your lunch last time, and now I do too.”

Yikes.

Despite how much you tried to understand whatever was happening, whatever was making your food suddenly disappear into thin air, you couldn’t put a finger on it. It kept happening over and over again, and with each time came a more heated argument with your boyfriend.

“You can’t keep on doing this!”

Your voice booms across your shared apartment with Seokjin, frustration eating you up whole. The same problem had been happening over and over again and both of you were unable to put a stop to it, even though it was neither of your fault.

“No, you can’t keep on doing this! Can’t you make your own food?!”

Seokjin is utterly livid. He keeps on trying his best to practice culinary at home in hopes he’d ace his classes at school, but every time this happens, the result always ends in heaps of crumbs decorating his plate.

This counted for your side of the story as well.

There wasn’t a time where you came back from work to find something to satisfy your hunger. It’s always the same exact outcome - an empty plate.

“I’m telling you it wasn’t me! What’s with you?!”

“What’s with you?”

As your voices merge, none of you notice the tiny feline creeping in from your kitchen window, watching you both with wide eyes as you point towards something that piques its interest.

A plate with some leftover pizza doused in salami.

Oh, what a time to be alive.

Whilst you’re busy at each other’s throats, it takes the opportunity to scarf the piece down, lapping at the salami pieces draped over random corners. You let out a loud huff, before turning to the exact same spot and laying eyes on the tuft of gray sitting calmly on your kitchen island.

Ah, so it wasn’t Seokjin afterall…

“Oh.” Your boyfriend suddenly says, pursing his lips tightly as his voice simmers unlike his loud tone earlier. “Oh…”

“I told you it wasn’t me. It’s been this little rascal all this time!”

Despite you nearing it, the cat doesn’t budge. In fact, it keeps on eating to its heart’s content. There’s no stopping it.

You coo at the sight, your fingers softly brushing its fur. Your gaze then falls on Seokjin, who bestows a frown upon your lips as he looks down with a clear pout and his fingers fiddling nervously.

Ah, even if he does eat all of your food, you can’t just not love him, more or less not forgive him. He’s too endearing for his own good. “I’m sorry,” you mumble upsettingly, making him look up at you with shiny eyes.

“You’re sorry? Imagine how I feel… You must feel so terrible.”

“Well, at least now we have proof, don’t we? I don’t have reason to suspect you of such a horrible crime.”

Your comment makes a smile brace his plump lips. He joins the two of you shyly, his arms finding comfort on your waist and his chin atop of your head. Seokjin watches as your fingers course through the feline’s fur, whereas the cat itself purrs happily.

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nad-zeta · 4 years

Note

Hi can I please have a ikevamp matchup? I'm goth/emo and pansexaul. I dislike rude people, too much social interactions, people harming animals and loud children. Often can be found listening to music, playing games or with animals ao reading. I'm mostly a loner, have major trust issues, can be cold and vindictive, sarcastic to the fullest, insecure when people point out the scar over my right eye and notice my selfharm scars, tend to observe more than speak. Number 1, will send in nr 2-anon🐺

Number 2, people say I'm polite and wise and tend to notice smaller details and conversations more than others and also say I'm kind as long as people don't get on my bad side upon first meeting. I can hold a grudge but can also easily forgive and have an unhealthy obbsesion with drinking black bitter coffee. Hobbies are drawing, reading, writing, listening to music, chatting with my bestie, playing with animals, gardening and daydreaming.-Anon🐺

Hi hi, love! 😊I hope you are doing well. 🙌Thank you so much for the request and sorry for taking sooooo long with this!😱🙈❤ I hope you have a super good day and enjoy this!❤❤

So I match you with.................. Arthur

The first time you meet Arthur, he was hella intrigued.

You couldn't sleep that first night you came to the mansion due to some crazy scary nightmares. You made your way down to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee. As you entered into the dark kitchen you noticed a figure by the fridge, it was the mystery writer himself. At the sound your your footsteps entering into the kitchen he promptly shut the fridged and closed the distance between the two of you. He stared down at you with his ocean blue eyes gleaming in the darkness. That is when Sabastian joined the two of you in the kitchen carrying a clear crystal bottle with what appeared to be a thick red liquid inside. You eyed the bottle curiously, and that's when Arthur had revealed the Mansions secret to you as he downed it. You were honestly pretty shocked, but when Arthur got up close to you, you instantly believed him as staining the collar of his shirt was undeniably the crimson red colour of blood.

You rushed back to your room freaking out, coffee long forgotten and somehow throughout the evening, you managed to pass out. You woke up to Comte sitting beside your bed with some breakfast. He spent the morning telling you all about the residence and the exact situation that you had managed to find yourself in. As Comte continued to explain the situation to you, you drifted off into a world of your own, replaying the previous night's events. You thought about Arthur and decided to low key forgive him for scaring you that previous night, as he was simply being honest, even though he could have done it in a less dramatic way.

You spent the day in your room, reading and writing. You didn't exactly feel like interacting with the residents, not cause of them being vampire but simply because you just didn't like social interaction in general, plus it had been a while since you last had time to completely relax.

The next morning you woke up and made your way down to the kitchen. You started a fresh pot of bitter black coffee, just the way you like it and who should walk into the kitchen and steal the very cup of coffee you had been excited to drink…. Non-other than Arthur himself. "Hey, that's mine, if you want coffee, then I suggest you make your own," you scolded the author with a frown and grumbled sarcastic remarks at him under your breath as you move to make yourself a fresh cup. Arthurs's eyes gleamed in excitement you certainly were a feisty little creature. The two of you took your sarcastic banter to the dining room as breakfast was being served. You weren't really one for social interaction, but you did enjoy the back, and forth you had with Arthur. Usually, no one could keep up with your quickfire of witty remarks and sarcastic comeback, but here Arthur was, holding his own against you.

When the next morning rolled by the exact same thing happened, Arthur yet again stole your freshly brewed cup of coffee, you let the first time slide but this time you narrowed your eyes at him plotting your revenge. Little did this mystery writer know, you were a rather vindictive kind of person. The next morning just as you predicted, Arthur showed up to steal your morning cup of coffee, except this time it wasn't coffee that he found himself drinking but a concoction of warm sludgy, muddy water. He spat it out and started rinsing his mouth under the kitchen tap, "serves you right," you legit couldn't hold back your laughter and hosed yourself laughing, watching the expression of disgust form on Arthur's face, "oh revenge certainly is sweet." This, my dear, is how the revenge war started between you and Arthur. Since that day, he would pull small pranks on you to get revenge, and you would plot a prank twice as good to get him back. You honestly enjoyed this little game the two of you played and even though you never like social interaction if it was with Arthur, you honestly didn't mind.

Speaking of games, one day, you walked into the game room to find Arthur and Isaac battling it out over a game of chess. You stood in the doorway next to Theo to watch the intense match between the two. Theo had warned you never to play a game against Arthur unless you wanted to lose, as he had never lost a single game in his life. You low key scoffed and laughed as it seemed he was losing at your little game of revenge, as his pranks were becoming more and more predictable. Issac hung his head in defeat, having lost yet another match against Arthur and now earning himself the nickname A-chan. You patted Isaac on the back and challenged Arthur to a game, winner takes all loser takes non. He simply shook your hand and smilingly accepted the bet

You challenged him to a game of rummy, and for the first time in Arthur’s life, he was sweating. You were definitely a tough opponent, and your observational skills were like his, second to none. The game had ended in a draw, so the two of you played another round one which you had managed to win by the skin of your teeth. You stood up, smiling triumphantly, and that's when he challenged you to a rematch. The two of you spent the afternoon playing various board games and trash-talking each other. You honestly loved playing games and playing against someone who could provide you with a good challenge definitely made it more enjoyable. You and Arthur actually added this to your list of fun activities to occasionally do together. It was always something which both of you looked forward to as it was always filled with laughter and witty banter.

Arthur quickly realized that you were incredibly smart and had a keen sense for picking up on finer details. So he invited you to tag along and play detective with him, helping him to solve some cases around town. TBH he pretty much pestered you into helping him, until you finally cracked one day. However, after having so much fun using your combined skills to solve a case you and Arthur teamed up and became the towns mystery solvers. Two of you work many a case together. Arthur legit loves working on various cases with you as this means he can spend more time with you and get to know you even better.

You guys stumble on a case where the owner of a beautiful Germain Sheppard had kept the poor dog chained up in the backyard. As Arthur chatted with the owner, you went over to pat the dog, and that's when the blood drained from your face in horror. The poor dog was incredibly thin, and you could see scars all over his body from being abused. To top it all off there had even been fresh wound on his leg. You looked over to see that the poor had no access to fresh clean water, and looked incredibly thirsty. You opened your bag to retrieved your bottle of water, you poured some water in a small dish for the dog. The poor thing must have been incredibly thirsty as he drank up every last drop of water. Your heart broke in two, and you didn't want to leave the poor animal in this cruel man's care. Just then, the man came out with Arthur and was incredibly rude with you telling you to get away from his dog. That afternoon as you and Arthur walked back home, the poor dog had been on your mind. Arthur stop abruptly and stared down at you curiously, "you know luv, I would do anything you ask, all you have to do is say the word. I do hate to see you looking so down. So tell me what is it I can do to bring that beautiful smile back to your face." You had never seen Arthur look at you with so much love and worry before, he had always been a bit of a pain in the ass, but during the past few weeks, you couldn't help but fall in love with him. And at the moment with him staring at you so earnestly, you had realized you really had fallen for this man standing before you.

Once the two of you got back home, you made your way to Arthurs room where you poured your heart out and told him that you hated rude people and you couldn't stand it when animals were being abused. Arthur simply nodded and smiled, "well then, what do you say we go and rescue that sweet dog from the clutches of the evil villain." You nodded and rolled your eyes slightly, trust the writer to create a story out of every situation. The two of you now sat side by side at the dining room table, each with a cup of bitter coffee in hand, planning the poor dog's daring rescue.

That night the two of you had successfully managed to save the poor dog. It took no effort at all for you to convince Comte to let you keep the cutie. After speaking with Comte about keeping the pet as your own, you walked back to your room, smiling at the memories you had created that night. Not only had you managed to rescue an animal in need, but after your daring rescue, you and Arthur were so excited at a job well done that he kissed you. On the walk home, you and Arthur had confessed your feeling for one another, and thus a new chapter in your life had officially started.

Often you could be found in the garden playing with your new pet. The second Arthur would hear the excited barks of the two dogs, he would put his pen down and rush downstairs to join the fun. He couldn't help but smile like a fool at the scene before him before joining in. The two of you would spend most afternoons playing with the animals while laughing and just having the best time together.

You had actually been the one to introduce Arthur to gardening, as a therapeutic way for both of you to relax and unwind. Plus this pale British boy had never seen a drop of sunshine in his life, thanks to always being cramped up in his room writing, so it did him a world of good to get out of his room once a while to soak up that sweet vitamin D

Arthur, like you, has had to deal with a lot of pain from the past, so he never ever did mention anything about your scars to you. He knew that if you wanted to talk about them, you would. And you did, one day after he had told you all the traumas of his past and why it had taken him so long to confess his feelings for you, you told him about your past. That day the two of you completely let your guards down and let each other in. Arthur did everything in his power to be by your side whenever you were feeling insecure about your scars. You best be sure this boi will hold you tight and tell you how perfect and beautiful you are. If that doesn't work to quieten down your insecurities he will show you with action how much he loves and adores every inch of you.

Often the two of you cuties can be found just chilling together in Arthur's room. He would be slouched over his desk, writing the newest chapter, and you would be cuddled up on his couch reading about the latest topic of interest. When Arthur discovers that you also dabble in writing, he was legit over the moon. He would always insist you read your latest piece of writing to him as he rests his head on your lap, while you lazily pull your finger through his ocean locks. The two of you cuties would also sit and talk and talk for hours in deep conversation about anything and everything.

If the two of you aren't engaged in some kind of battle of wits, you are nestled in Arthur's arms as the two of you just enjoy a peaceful moment together wrapped in each other's warmth, each in a daydream of their own. Don't be surprised if this playboy drops a few sneaky kisses on your face as you comfortably rest in his arms, daydreaming away.

Other potential matches................. Vlad

I hope you enjoyed this dear and I hope you have a super good day!❤❤😊🌻

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