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jhope-jchokeme · 2 years

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writers in the dark | part 1

summary: you are secretly one-half of a famous author duo. he's an international superstar. when he wants to produce the music for the television adaptation of your book, you jump at the chance to work with him. will you be able to keep yourself compartmentalised, or will your facade crack the moment it's under scrutiny?

pairing: hoseok x reader (nicknamed)

genre: fluff, angst, smut (later chapters)

rating: M [+18]

word count: 3.8k

warnings: list is for this chapter. [ past pregnancy loss | low self-esteem | blood mention ]

notes: i couldn't bring myself to type "y/n" in dialogue, so reader (that's you!) is nicknamed Lulu -- short for Delulu.

links: [ part 2 ]

1 | STRANGERS

Going back to the beginning is hard. There’s a murkiness - a damp fog - that bends the memories until they twist around themselves and they coil and writhe like a snake. They threaten to lash out, venom-soaked fangs at the ready. Going back to the earliest untainted memory? Well, that might prove possible — to a point. Memories are such curious creatures: easily manipulated, quickly lost, nearly sentient in their own right, but always so easy to trigger; a smell, a touch, a taste — anything can spur the mind into forming something to attach to it. That’s probably the easiest part. Recounting that attachment? Well, that can prove futile.

If we’re starting at the beginning, there are few things you need to keep in mind: one, you have never had the best luck in love; two, while you have a good relationship with your family, they can sometimes be unbelievably cruel; three, while it’s taken you a long time to get to where you are, you are mostly pleased with your trajectory.

All of your memories seem to ebb and flow; the rawest memory you can extract from the distorted static is a small fragment from six years ago, but you can recall it — vividly — as if it were merely hours ago. The striking details: the shock of red blood on white linen, the sickly-clean smell of the hospital, the sea-foam green walls. They stir together, swirling with the sobs (or were they screams?) that emanated from deep within your body.

A touch can spur a range of emotions, namely: anger, repulsion, nausea. A comforting pat on the arm is useless. A hard kiss on the mouth drags the beast from within, moaning and writhing with falsified passion. The grasping of wrists drags the demons out, shrieking with terror showing in the whites of their eyes.

A certain cologne dredges up memories you wish you could bury. He smiled like a waning moon, swept you off your feet. Red blood on white linen. Your walls never crumbled so quickly. That sickly-clean smell of the hospital. You dated briefly, married quickly. The sea-foam green walls. You only held your daughter once she was lifeless, wrapped in pink. Her little eyes are closed, her mother’s tears fall on her face, and the demised child weeps.

Past the divorce, the sorrow, the attempts on your own life, you found your footing again. Rekindled an old friendship that you thought you had let slip through your fingers completely. The two of you were thick as thieves. Part of you — the saddest, touch-starved parts — thought you were in love with her. She was your soulmate, but also your truest friend. While there were nights that you held her hand, and nights where you sobbed in her arms, the love you had for her was a platonic enigma.

But the two of you were always creatives, dreaming up fantasies and fairy tales and stories. Each of you had published before — you had your poetry, short stories, and a novella. She, two novellas and an anthology of intertwined short stories. When she suggested the two of you team up, a fire lit inside you that you hadn’t felt in years.

While neither of you were particularly well known authors, you decided to merge two identities into one, separating collaboration from independent works and thus, Ducky Castor was born. The pen name you two shared was nothing more than two random words. A hoax — convincing the general public you were both one person was easy at first. The first book you released together, one-third of a trilogy, started out quietly.

“The Moon is My Mother” was a book of little magic, intertwined vignettes of overcoming grief, the balance of magic, nature and the universe, and starting a ten-year war in the name of love. The reception was positive, but mostly quiet. Then, almost as if overnight, the series exploded. One review of the book on the TapTap app from three months ago finally went viral. As if everyone who had bought the book and finally finished it at the same time, decided to share the review and agree.

Earlier that year, it had been nominated for a Graeber-Collins award for “Best New Fantasy.” Just last week, you won the award, and while you both wanted to accept in person, to rub it in the faces of everyone who said you couldn’t, you didn’t want to accumulate a level of fame that felt overwhelming. Instead, keeping up the charade, your literary agent — Alexa — kindly accepted the award on your behalf, reading a written statement, thanking a fictitious family, very real editors, and the musical group who inspired the story with their title track, “Black Swan.”

Which now explains your current circumstance: sitting in a conference room of your publishing house’s London branch, next to your best friend and co-author — Lala. The shoutout to these seven boys was so under the radar, you weren’t expecting them to reach out when they heard about the television adaptation, wanting to produce a few songs for the OST.

Had you and Lala — sweetly — requested that the first Korean translations of the book be sent to them? Yes. Had you gently referenced them within the pages of your book? Also yes. But, to compare yourselves to the monolith, you didn’t think they’d actually read it.

They’re busy. However often they wondered aloud in videos what their fans did on a daily basis, or what their fans' lives must be like … you also knew they were businessmen. Marketers selling a product. Essentially selling an entire experience. The venn diagram of how these men marketed themselves and how sex-workers marketed themselves was a circle. They would say anything in the most genuine voices, but deep down, you knew they didn’t actually care. Why would they? They were laughing all the way to the bank.

But now, the anticipation of waiting for two of them to show up was going to kill you.

“Stop bouncing your leg, you’re shaking the table,” your friend teases, breaking the silence.

“Sorry,” you laugh, crossing your legs at the ankle to keep the nervous energy from collecting there. “What time is it?”

Lala taps her phone screen twice, glancing at the time but getting distracted by several notifications. Several moments later, she swipes one of the notifications and begins furiously texting a friend, before locking the screen and setting it back down.

“The time?” you inquire again, a fond smile spreading across your face.

“Oh, shit,” she laughs easily and checks her phone again. “11:11, make a wish,” she jokes. An old, silly pastime, but it helps calm your nerves.

You close your eyes tight, making a silent wish that they show up soon.

“Peanut butter,” you say, and watch Lala’s left eyebrow quirk up as a question mark. “You know, to make it stick.”

Lala’s eyes roll so far back in her head, you can only see the whites. This sends the both of you into a fit of giggles. There were only a few minutes left until the meeting was about to start, but you had showed up grotesquely early — for once — due to your anticipation. You didn’t know which two members you and Lala would be meeting with, but you had a sneaking suspicion one of them would be Yoongi. The other member? Either sad-art-ho Namjoon, or pop-culture-icon Hoseok. You had no complaints or preference either way. All seven members were, to put it bluntly, daddy candidates.

Your mind-numbing scroll through social media was interrupted by two knocks on the door. Your head snaps in the direction of the noise as the handle turns, your stomach mirroring the twisting motion.

Three men enter the room, two of whom you recognise immediately, despite the face masks: Yoongi and Hoseok. The third man who joins them must be their interpreter. You rise from your seat and smile warmly at them, before realising you’re also wearing a mask and they can’t see your smile, idiot. Hopefully the gesture reaches your eyes.

They greet you with polite bows and introductions, and you mirror their mannerisms, giving a polite bow in return.

“I’m Lala,” your friend jumps in with her own introduction. “One of the head writers for the adaptation.”

As their interpreter translates and they greet her, you prepare to introduce yourself. Just as you open your mouth to give your name, a large group passes by the still-open door, chattering loudly. Hopefully, they hear you give your name.

“… but everyone just calls me Lulu,” is all that you can hear leave your mouth. “I’m the other head writer for the adaptation. Thanks for making the trip to meet with us.”

“Lala and Lulu?” Hoseok asks, the smile reaching his eyes. He must think this is a joke. In a way, it is, but despite the differences between you and Lala, you wanted everyone to know that the two of you were a team.

“Consider LULA the western version of SOPE,” you say with a smile, hoping it doesn’t come across as corny as it sounds in retrospect. Lala rolls her eyes, but the boys smile at you both, and you feel your legs getting weak.

The meeting goes well, the boys asking thoughtful questions and taking notes. There’s one question that’s been burning in the back of your mind since they reached out, and finally with a lull in the conversation, you glance at Lala and this gives you the strength to ask it.

“Did you guys read the book?” you hope the question doesn’t come across as rude, but you know if you try to contextualise it within the chaos of how your mind works, you’ll only dig yourself into a deeper hole. Both boys glance at each other.

“I started it on the plane,” Hoseok admits with a laugh. His carefree demeanour makes it hurt just a little less.

“I read it,” Yoongi says, almost proudly.

“Namjoon read it twice, I think,” Hoseok adds, “He was mad he couldn’t come.”

“Ah,” is all you manage to say. Part of you wants to know why he couldn’t come, but the other part of you knows it isn’t your business. There’s a third part of you that is still a little disheartened that Hoseok only just started the book. He seems to sense this by the way your eyes glaze over.

“I’m almost done with it,” he says, offering a smile. “I just started ‘The Magician’ chapter, with Theodore? The back and forth of the timelines with the upright and reversed interpretations of the major arcana is really well done.”

You find a smile spreading across your face. He’s almost done with it.

“I had to explain what the major arcana is to him,” Yoongi says, not looking up from his notebook where he finishes writing a few notes. You still smile behind your mask, you know, like an idiot.

“You work closely with the author, right?” Yoongi asks, his eyes settling on the space between you and Lala. Your stomach twists — does he know?

“Yeah,” Lala says, effortlessly cool in these situations.

“What can you tell us about book two?”

“What can you tell us about your next comeback?” Lala asks, and that seems to put a stop to the prying questions. They both nod with a smile.

The meeting wraps up after a few more details are hammered out.

“So, we can meet up in the next week or so with a rough demo, and go from there,” Hoseok says, gathering his things up and packing them neatly into his bag. His phone is immediately in his hand, and he’s swiping through apps until he pulls up his calendar. You flip through your planner until you land on that month’s calendar.

“So, book two is launching next week,” you say, staring at the full days of the upcoming week, some of them amended with post-it notes. “And the pilot script is due by the end of the month,” You say as you rearrange a couple appointments and cross off another, making a note to cancel and reschedule them. “I can free up about three hours on Thursday, after lunch. Let’s say from one to four?” you ask, pen at the ready. He gives the affirmative and you block off that part of the day with a flourish and a pink highlighter.

“My Father Wept at Dawn’s First Light” is an excellent sophomore publication from mysterious author, Ducky Castor. Readers will be drawn back by the same compelling, wistful narrative of the struggles of war, love, loss, and magic. This dazzling sequel to “The Moon is My Mother” will keep you turning pages, even after it’s done. – Simon Lionel, Marie Claire Book Club

“Gripping, devastating, haunting.” – Sam Winters, BookBub Magazine

“This book oozes more talent than I have in my entire collection of work. Outstanding storytelling from my new favourite author.” – G. R. Mathis, author of “Windowless House”

“When did publishers start putting reviews on the back of books instead of the book synopsis?” you ask, mouth half-full with a bite of yoghurt. In front of you lies a copy of the second book, the back of the dust-cover full of glowing reviews.

“Whenever you decided it was okay to put your feet on the table,” Lala says, giving you a sideways glance. You smile and pull your feet down to the chair next to you instead.

“Floor,” Lala says.

“Yes, mommy,” you say, cheekily, and set your feet on the floor.

“Reviews on the back of books are just publishers calling consumers and readers, ah, not very intelligent. It’s like a content creator being sponsored,” Lala says.

“No, I know that. But why can’t they put the reviews on the inside of the dust cover? Why are they taking up valuable real estate with an info-mercial of the book?” you press.

“Specifically to bother you,” Lala replies.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you lean back over your laptop to finish writing an email. After several minutes of looking for the word you want to use but cannot — for the life of you — recall from the depths of your memory, you close the lid with a soft snap and push it away from you.

“I guess we should get ready for meeting part two,” you say. “Think I have time for a shower?”

“Is it just a hair-and-face shower, or whole body shower?” Lala asks, looking over the rim of her teacup at you.

“Whole body, lite?” you offer.

Lala grunts. “They’re not going to take us on the conference room table, no matter how hard we manifest it, bestie,” she says.

“… Then just a hair-and-face shower,” you say.

“I think dry-shampoo and deodorant would suffice,” she says. “You’re running on Lulu-time today.”

You groan. She’s right. Notoriously late and scatter-brained due to your packed schedule (that excuse only works for the next few weeks, until things settle down), you know that your brain doesn’t process time properly the minute you unplug and step into the shower.

“What if I —" you start.

“No,” Lala says with a bright smile. “Throw it up in a bun with some dry shampoo and take your whore-bath.”

You pout and head to the bathroom to freshen up. Between stretching yourself too thin and general mental health issues, your personal hygiene sometimes fell to the wayside. Once in the bathroom you check the time on your phone. You have forty-five minutes before you have to leave. It’s risky, but you set an alarm for half an hour and start the shower.

You and Lala arrive with only minutes to spare. She’s mad, but you’re clean and that’s good enough in your book. The boys haven’t arrived yet, and you count that as the day’s second little blessing. You quickly unpack your laptop and notebook, and the little gifts you prepared for Yoongi and Hoseok.

You’ve only just set their gifts at their seats when they knock and enter the conference room. Their eyes settle on the gifts with fondness. You greet them with a small bow and gesture to their seats.

“We come bearing gifts for you, as a thank you for the work you’re doing,” you say. “You can open them now, if you like,” you add as you sit back at your laptop. You pull your mask down low enough to take a long swig of your coffee, before replacing it on your face.

Hoseok is the first to settle in and peek into the bag, extracting the card from the tissue paper. The words inside are typed — as if done on an old fashioned type-writer.

Hoseok — J-Hope: Thank you for lending some of your genius to the soundtrack. It’s an honour for me to know that you liked my book enough to help with the adaptation. I had hoped (ha!) that I could have given this to you in person. Alas, my privacy is very near and dear to me. Perhaps one day we can meet and you can tell me your favourite parts, and I’ll tell you my favourite songs. Please accept this gift as a token of my gratitude. Light and love in all aspects of your life, - Ducky

You watch his eyes grow wide as he pulls away the tissue paper, revealing the hardcover, first editions of both “The Moon is My Mother” and “My Father Wept at Dawn’s First Light”. Yoongi’s gift is the same, though his card is different:

Yoongi — SUGA: Thank you for lending some of your genius to the soundtrack. I know it will be a hit, even if the adaptation flops. I never expected my little book of stories to get to this level, but I am thankful for it. While I had imagined giving you this gift myself, the thought of revealing myself to the world seems too great. Perhaps another time. Please accept this gift as my unending gratitude. Love and light in all your endeavours, - Ducky

“I bet those are signed,” you say off-handedly, taking another long sip of your coffee, knowing full well that they are signed. You and Lala signed them yourselves, last night. Each book has a scrawl on the inside title page (Lala’s handiwork), and the name ‘Ducky’ printed beneath it, with a small doodle of a duck-head (your handiwork).

Both Yoongi and Hoseok are quiet for a moment, marvelling at the gifts they received. At some point you wonder if they don’t like the gifts.

“How do we thank her?” Hoseok asks, after a long pause.

“Them,” you gently correct. “You can send them a thank you card by addressing it to the publishing company, or you can hand us the card and we’ll make sure they get it.”

They nod, and after a few more moments of silence, Yoongi clears his throat.

“So, we have a rough demo of the opening track,” he says, clicking on his laptop. “We have two versions, actually,” he amends. “One is just the instrumental, and one has lyrics.” Before you can acknowledge this, he’s opened the instrumental track and handed you a headset. He waits for you to put them on before he presses play.

“This is the instrumental,” he says before your ears are flooded with the soft, rich sound of a cello. You close your eyes to listen to it. Slowly, it crescendos, and various other string instruments layer in with rhythmic runs, percussion marking time. Above it all, two violins swirl a melody; simultaneously a dance and a fight — two separate themes becoming one in harmony. While you don’t know the lyrical version yet, you can imagine the violins emphasising two voices. Somewhere along the way, your musical knowledge from university takes over, and you find yourself conducting an imaginary orchestra until the final notes release their hold and you open your eyes.

You can feel the smile on your face, and a small reservoir of tears pool in the corners of your eyes.

“This is beautiful,” you say, passing the headset to Lala to allow her to experience it. You wait until she sets the headset on the table before you continue your thought from earlier.

“It almost reminds me of …” you pause to rack your brain for a moment. “Frank Ticheli’s compositions,” you say, recalling the name of your favourite contemporary composer. “Very ‘Angels in the Architecture’ meets ‘Vesuvius’. This is exactly what I envisioned,” you say, using the guise of adjusting your glasses to wipe the tears from your eyes on the sly.

Neither Lala, Hoseok, or Yoongi give any inclination that they know who or what you’re talking about. It doesn’t matter. If they wanted to know more, they’d surely ask. … Right?

“The lyrical version is just me crowing into a microphone,” Hoseok says, trying to remain humble. “We don’t need to show them that,” he adds, turning to Yoongi.

“Why would you deprive me of my favourite vocalist’s vocals?” you ask, grabbing up the headset again. “I want to hear it,” you reassure him as you settle the headset over your ears again. Yoongi presses play and you hear the familiar instrumental rise in your ears, this time joined with Hoseok’s deep voice crooning Korean lyrics with the strings. You needed this version of the track for … deeply personal reasons.

“Can you send me that?” You ask, unabashed, when it finishes. “I want to listen to it again later, maybe with some candles lit and a fancy dinner,” you go on to explain, making a light joke but also insinuating exactly what you’ll be doing later. They laugh, and from there you fall into a comfortable conversation about the track, the adaptation, and the second book release.

“Lulu and I were each asked to read a chapter at the launch party,” Lala says, humbly boasting about the honour you bestowed upon yourselves.

“Oh, that’s exciting!” Hoseok says, the smile behind his mask lighting up all of his features. “When is the launch party?”

“Tomorrow, starts around five,” you say, then lean forward with a conspiratorial look on your face. “We each have a plus one, if you boys would like to join us.” Did you just shoot your shot? Hell yeah you did.

Yoongi and Hoseok look at each other for a moment then nod.

“It’s a date,” Hoseok says, and you can feel your heart melt and pool somewhere behind your stomach. “Where should we pick you up?”

#hoseok fluff #hoseok fic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok drabble #hoseok imagine #jhope fluff #jhope fic #jhope fanfic #jhope imagine #jhope drabble #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #writers in the dark #witd #lulu - short for delulu

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dolene · 2 months

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TYING YOU TO ME!

summary: nobody knows where the invisible strings could take you to. no one could ever see the threads, but the clues were surely there. you just don't realize it.

four times charles said his happy birthday, one time y/n said it back.

anonymous requested: Hi, sooo since it's my birthday in a couple of days I wanted to request a smau with Charles Leclerc's birthday post for his gf through the years like a childhood friend to lovers kinda thing and the internet is just being obsessed with them.

pairing: charles leclerc x childhood friend!reader

author's note: this is such a sweet request from you nonny! i wish you a happiest and sweetest birthday whenever it is<3

FEBRUARY, 2019

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, and 467,213 others

charles_leclerc It's been a long time since you're becoming my best friend, Y/n. But unfortunately your mama doesn't trust me with your childhood pictures, so she gave me this.

But I wish you the happiest birthday, Mon loulou😉🎂

view all 274 comments

yourusername Since when did you becoming poetic like this?

yourusername But OMG thank you, Cha! I LOVE YOUUUUU

username MON LOULOU DAAAAANGGG

username i need to scream to my pillow she's so adorableeeee

arthur_leclerc Believe it or not, I have more of her embarrassing photos

⤷ charles_leclerc Send it to my phone now

⤷ yourusername You're dead

username i can't believe today is her birthday. happy birthday, y/n

username AWW TOINY Y/NNNNN

landonorris she looks so little (same as today)

oscarpiastri I've never knew this was Y/n until Lily told me it was her. Happy birthday, Y/n. I hope you can be in McLaren next time.

⤷ scuderiaferrari Not until we do it faster.

⤷ mclaren I love to see you try

username she's so adorable 😍

username I wish my best friend does this

FEBRUARY, 2020

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, and 594,355 others

charles_leclerc Wishing the happiest of birthdays to the coolest person i know my entire life🎂😄 ＠yourusername

view all 824 comments

carlossainz55 I bet that she's cooler than you

⤷ charles_leclerc NOBODY is better than the original.

username Shes really cool, now I know why is she called the coolest person he know

⤷ username she got that tiktok style

luisinhaoliveira99 Feliz aniversário!!! 😙😙

mickschumacher Thanks for cropping me off the picture 😔👍🏻

⤷ yourusername Sorryyyyy

username HAPPYYYY BIRTHDAAAAY

username LITERALLY OBSESSED W THEM

username racer bestie + influencer bestie

username imagine being wished every year like this by charles

charles_leclerc added a photo to their story! 3h

caption: Selfie with the birthday girl

FEBRUARY 2021

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, and 639,427 others

charles_leclerc She's a menace. Happy birthday baguette eater.

👤: ＠yourusername, ＠joris__trouche

view all 868 comments

landonorris ooohhhh myyyy

username is this the undiscovered dirty self of THE charles leclerc??

username BAGUETTE EATER???????

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yourusername STOPPP😭😭😭

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yourusername YOU PROMISE WOULDN'T POST THIS

⤷ charles_leclerc Sorry, can't help it, Arthur said i need to post this

⤷ arthur_leclerc THE BETRAYAL

FEBRUARY, 2022

charles_leclerc

liked by lewishamilton, and 882,490 others

charles_leclerc Still be the coolest and the nicest person I've ever had, and now she is my girlfriend. Happy birthday, loulou. ti amerò per sempre.

👤: ＠yourusername

view all 1,246 comments

yourusername anch'io ti amo per sempre😭😭😭😭😭

username Loulou pronounced lulu, that means i'm sleepy so let's sleep and be delulu

lilyzneimer Ahhh happy birthday, sweetheart!

georgerussell63 Happy happy birthday Y/n. have a visit to London, so that Carmen and I could make you some muffins 😉

carlossainz55 Happy birthday Y/n, don't forget to join me and Isa tomorrow!

isahernaez Have the happiest of birthday, Y/n

username 😭😭😭 I still can't believe they're really together

username when will i date my best friend like this

⤷ username DONT GIVE ME IDEAS

FEBRUARY, 2023

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, and 724,560 others

charles_leclerc A year has passed since the time that I asked you to be my girlfriend. Joris said that he took more, but unfortunately the camera took a swim, and that leave us with this grainy picture.

And anyways, I wish you a marvelous birthday to my beloved girlfriend, ＠yourusername. never change.

view all 899 comments

yourusername I LOVE YOU TOOOO CHARLES I'M CRYING SO HARD RN

joris__trouche 😉😉👍🏻

username i love them your honor

username parents

username MAMA Y PAPA😍😍😘😚

lilymhe Charles, I am not aware of your games

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username i need to have it like them because if i'm not i'm going to explode

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username joris when i catch you joris

carmenmmundt Happy birthday to you, Y/n!

nicholaslatifi Oh you Lovebirds... 🥹

OCTOBER 16TH, 2024

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, and 859,437 others

yourusername Who knew that this tiny man is once my best friend?

Even though I got my hair slicked back, putting up my fakest smile, and wearing the black dress you hate; I'm still amazed that you were still there for me whenever i could count on you.

And now that you're my boyfriend, I cannot be more grateful for that. Happy birthday, big boy. Je t'aime pour toujours.❤️❤️

view all 682 comments

leclerc_pascale 🥳🥳🥳

username WHO'S CUTTING ONION HERE

carlossainz55 I've noticed that you both are doing great with words now, happy birthday, Cabrón.

username a lil spicy on the eyes don't you think

username HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHARLES😭😭😭

landonorris that's cute. happy birthday

username ISN'T😭IT😭 JUST😭SO😭PRETTY😭TO😭THINK😭ALL😭ALONG😭THERE😭WAS😭SOME😭 INVISIBLE 😭STRING😭TYING😭YOU😭TO😭ME😭

username I've had enough, I need to date my best friend

username i'm not yet moved on from charles's birthday wishes to y/n, and now i'm screwed by thinking about this

lewishamilton Happy birthday, mate

scuderiaferrari Have the happiest birthday to you, Champ! ✨❤️

#duhyork's artwork ৎ #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x female reader

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