#there just isn’t enough fic about them but I’ll be honest I haven’t read much

[sendinthehuskies]

as an england nt historian could you pls provide background for john/joe hart as both an irl working partnership and a fictional ship? bc i have been deep diving 2016/2018 internationals content to forget about the upcoming one and i see there is a lot of....well intimate touches and looks going on. not on a disgusting and marital level as with stonesford but still noticeable. the 'caption this' vid john did with dele ft. harty walks and lallana (remember him lol) is a strong blatant example. sidebar but my deep dive has also taught me that dele and walks had some animosity at england camp back in the day which does not seem to come up much in fic of the time, kind of funny to me. how was this our 3lions squad and our vibe only 4/5 years ago too? it feels like over a decade, completely different times

Joe Hart was an England stalwart and wore the Number 1 jersey for nine years from 2008. He was with City and a double premier league winner for 12 years from 2006.

For John coming up through the England youth teams, Joe was iconic. He has been vocal about the fact that he was a fan growing up and how special it was for him to get his first call up in 2014 to finally play alongside Joe:

“I couldn’t believe it; I’d watched Harty for years as a young guy; playing for England. Obviously training with him was something special.”

John didn’t get a whole lot of time playing for the senior team when he was first called up, but it didn’t matter - he was there, and Joe Hart rated him. At the World Cup in Brazil, Joe said:

“I think we’re all incredibly excited. We’ve all worked really, really hard as a unit – I include John Stones and Jon Flanagan in that, they’ve been absolutely fantastic and a great example of people who want to be involved in this World Cup.

“We want to make them proud, we want to make the people at home proud as well.

“I’ve got a role whether playing it’s John Terry playing in front or whether it’s Stonesy starting his international career,” he said.

“I’m always going to try and fulfill my role in the team.

“But I trust every single one of these players at this level. They’ve proved it at their Premier League clubs and deserve to be in the squad.”

Joe took John under his wing and they absolutely clicked from the get go. At a time when John wasn’t too highly rated and was extremely junior in the England NT, the goalkeeper that he’d looked up to for so many years was determined to see him succeed.

Things changed in 2016 when Man City hired Pep Guardiola. Hart was excited that Pep wanted to sign John but he didn’t know that he wasn’t to be included in Pep’s plans himself:

“Joe Hart personally convinced his friend, John Stones, to join City and the “ambitious project” in 2016 - only to be shipped out on loan to Torino the same month.”

Still, when John arrived at City - very nervous and without people like Kyle Walker - Harty was there for him:

“John Stones on the first player he met at City: “I think it was Joe Hart. I came in with Harty, I didn’t know the way to the training ground. So I rang Harty asking if I could come with him.

I was nervous. Very nervous. I had friends from England, Raheem Sterling, Fabian Delph and Joe Hart - he especially made it so much easier. It's a big period as you know where nothing is, like the canteen, where to be, what time to get there and he coached me through, putting an arm around me. I've still got a note in my locker from him when he went to Torino - I won't read it out as it has some naughty words - but he told me to just be me and not change who I am.”

Joe was gutted to leave City but he didn’t anticipate that he’d then be let go from England. He was part of England’s qualification for the World Cup in 2018, but after an injury ruled him out for a game, Jordan Pickford was given a chance to step in. He did not fumble his audition and was given the number 1 spot for the World Cup. Harty said:

“Not going to lie, I'm gutted. After two years of trying to make the most of a really tough situation, this is hard to take.”

A few months later, he posted on Instagram ahead of the World Cup:

John smashed it at the World Cup, and so did Pickford, and arguably it was the way they played together that made them do so well. It is unfortunate that this connection is what would ultimately cement Pickford as number 1 and see Harty dropped for good:

“Jordan’s positioning allows the team to stay spread and dispersed a lot wider. When we have the ball, he becomes what you might call a ‘second-pivot,” explains Dittmer.

“When you play with a back four, you can use the goalkeeper as the pivot to bounce the ball around. When you play with a back three - like we have done in Russia - you already have that pivot there with the central player which has been John Stones.

“As a goalkeeper behind a back three, you need to become the second pivot.

“You have to position yourself between the central defender and one of the two outside centre-halves to offer receiving positions to help the team play out.

“Those positions are quite complicated and complex to take up but he’s done that really well.

“Jordan’s positioning stops the centre forward from just closing down one option.

“If the forward runs towards Jordan, he’ll play through the pressure. If the attacker presses the central defender, there’s an option to use Jordan and get out round the other side.

“It gives the team more opportunities to play out from the back and retain possession.

“His understanding of positioning has really helped the team stay dispersed, rotate the ball and play forward in a positive way. It’s great to see and it has given confidence to everyone.”

But Joe and John stayed obsessed with each other. When they met at Tottenham years later they were physical and friendly, and Joe always has kind words to say about John - never once has he not been John’s biggest cheerleader.

Joe will always be John’s first England number 1. He was pivotal in John’s City career and the love between them has never dimmed. They will always be famous. The end

#this is so #I have more to add I think but I’ll come back to it #this doesn’t even include the caption this video! #John looking up at Harty through his eyelashes! filth! #they’re fascinating cos in a way John’s success ensured hart’s demise but there was no resentment in it #and for John who loved Jordan Pickford from years of playing with him… thank god he did or he might’ve resented Jordan for replacing Joe #there just isn’t enough fic about them but I’ll be honest I haven’t read much #on my way to do a deep dive #John stones #Joe hart #long post

[weirdkpopgirl]

Friends Who Kiss | Chenle Fic #1

Title: Friends Who Kiss

Genre: Best friends to lovers, high school/college au

Warnings: mentions of the reader being insecure and having a mental breakdown at some point. a little suggestive, but not really

Word Count: ~ 5.6k

Author's Note: Okay to be very honest, I think that this story is kinda stupid and cliché. But it was an idea that I still wanted to try writing. And this is my first full-length fic for Chenle too, so I'm happy to post something for him. So to those who like cheesy romance stories, I hope you enjoy this. Thank you for reading ^ ^

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Since the start of high school, Zhong Chenle has been a consistent part of your life. He arrived as a transfer student from Shanghai, while you were the reserved kid who often used studying as an excuse to avoid social interaction. So rather than you reaching out to him first, it was he who practically claimed you as his best friend. Your personalities were a striking contrast, but it proved to be the perfect balance. It didn't take long for the two of you to become inseparable.

However, your friendship took a turn in eleventh grade. You guys had gone to your house after school to do homework. Except it was mostly you working on assignments, while Chenle was animatedly ranting about some mobile game Jisung was terrible at playing.

“It’s unbelievable! Every time I check his character gets killed,” Chenle laughed, and you responded with a soft hum of acknowledgment.

The boy glanced up from his phone to find you engrossed in your textbooks. While your attention was focused on writing an essay, you were also trying to keep your mind from drifting to the unsettling conversation you had during lunch that day. Typically, you and Chenle sat together with his friends. But Jisung needed the boy’s help stalking his crush, so you found yourself sitting with some of the girls in your class. 

Sensing the inner conflict brewing in your mind, Chenle rose from the bed and leaned over your shoulder. 

“You've been at this since we got here. How is your brain not fried?” he asked, blunt as usual.

You shot the boy with an unappreciative glare. “It is fried. But our essay is due on Monday, and I still have to help you with yours.”

Chenle sighed, well aware of your enduring determination. Ever since he met you, he couldn’t understand why you stressed so much over assignments, especially when you always completed them before the due date. Then you somehow managed to go out of your way to ensure he was doing the same.

“You’re more than halfway finished, and I’ll get to mine on my own time,” He reassured, “Why don’t you take a break for now?”

Before you could protest, Chenle swiftly pulled you out of your chair and guided you to sit on the bed with him. Worry clouded his gaze. “Something’s troubling you, isn’t it?”

Your teeth sank into your lower lip, hating how Chenle knew you so well. He didn’t have a problem sharing what was on his mind, while you were the exact opposite. Yet, even a single look at you was enough for him to detect something was off.

“The girls at lunch were going on about their dating experiences and stuff,” you began to explain, your tone tinged with irritation at the memory. “They were all so surprised when I said I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

You pushed yourself to meet Chenle's gaze, half dreading that he might burst into laughter. Instead, his expression held a hint of amusement, and that alone made you regret bringing up the topic.

Before he could respond, you hurriedly attempted to backtrack on your words. “It's stupid, I know—”

“It’s not stupid if it’s making you upset,” Chenle said firmly.

Leaning back in your seat, you let out an exasperated sigh. “I just can’t get their judgmental looks out of my head. All because I don’t have much experience with dating?”

Chenle's expression softened as he confessed, "There's nothing wrong with that, and there’s a lot of people like you. I haven't had my first kiss either."

“Really?!” You stared at him in disbelief. “Didn't you date Ko Mi-so though?”

Chenle scoffed, appearing slightly offended. “Okay, that happened such a long time ago. And we didn't even last a month, so we never kissed.”

Now that you thought about it, he was right about their relationship ending almost as quickly as it began. You recalled the time back in tenth grade when Chenle was quite smug about dating Mi-so, who happened to be the prettiest girl in class. Frankly, you were somewhat relieved when they broke up, given that she didn't particularly like you. Chenle hasn’t dated anyone since.

“Oh, I guess that makes sense,” your voice trailed off. 

The boy stayed silent for a moment before an idea dawned on him. “You know what? Why don’t we have our first kiss now?”

Your cheeks felt like they were competing for a world record in how quickly they heated up at Chenle's proposal. He couldn't possibly be serious.

“Did I hear you right?” you stammered, thoroughly taken aback by the suggestion.

Chenle nodded confidently, “I mean, we're best friends, so it's not that weird. And it's better than kissing someone we don't know as well or not have a connection with.”

You could kind of see his point. Having Chenle as your first kiss did seem much safer than kissing some random guy. Besides, it wasn’t like either of you had any underlying feelings for each other. This would solely be for practice.

“Alright,” you reluctantly agreed, “But you have to promise not to make fun of me if I turn out to be a bad kisser."

Chenle chuckled and nodded. He inched closer to you on the bed, leaving little space between the two of you. Although he saw you every day, having your face this near made a faint blush tinge his cheeks.

He started to lean in more before pausing. "Um, maybe you should close your eyes."

"Oh—right," you mumbled awkwardly, then took a deep breath before allowing your eyelids to shut.

He had to suppress a chuckle, finding you kinda cute in that moment. Before you had a chance to second-guess yourself, Chenle pressed his lips against yours in a tender kiss. Shortly after, he drew back, searching for your reaction.

“So, how was that?” He asked, voice laced with teasing.

You stared at him incredulously for a moment before realizing he was waiting for you to answer. “I suppose it was okay,” you mumbled.

Chenle tilted his head with an amused grin. “Just okay?”

“Yeah, I guess I didn't feel much because we're not really into each other like that,” you admitted with a nonchalant shrug.

Okay, you might have partially lied about not feeling much during the kiss. Truth be told, there was this strange, fluttery sensation in your chest when your best friend's lips grazed yours. But perhaps all first kisses were like that, and you were simply overthinking it.

The boy beside you let out a hearty laugh. “Well at least we got that over with.”

You had to muster all your self-control not to blush when he followed up with, “And you're not a bad kisser, by the way.”

Believing that the experiment was over, the two of you returned to your previous tasks. Nothing changed much after that day in your bedroom, as you and Chenle remained best friends. But little did you realize that this wouldn't be the last kiss you'd be sharing with him. 

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Despite your previous attempts to justify it, the second kiss you shared with Chenle happened partially because of you. As your senior year of high school unfolded, Chenle prepared for his performance at the spring festival. It was you who initially urged him to participate in the talent show. The countless times you had witnessed his piano playing and singing during your private moments together convinced you that he should share his talents with the world. Your compliments not only fueled Chenle’s ego but also prompted him to eagerly jot his name down on the sign-up sheet.

However, what you didn’t expect was to find him backstage, looking as pale as a ghost. He was supposed to go after a group of girls who were dancing to Red Velvet’s “Red Flavor.” With the intention of cheering him on in person, you spotted the dark-haired boy sitting on a chair, anxiously bouncing his legs.

“Last-minute jitters?" you asked softly.

Chenle glanced up at you and crossed his arms in a nonchalant manner. “What, me? I'm fine,” he replied, though his tone lacked conviction.

Just as Chenle knew you like the back of his hand, you were among the few who could read him. While he was partially correct about never being nervous, it didn't take an idiot to perceive that he was in that moment. It was evident he was trying to play it off to uphold his confident image. 

One aspect that troubled you about Chenle was his constant facade of cheerfulness and carefree demeanor. No one could genuinely be happy all the time, and he was the kind of person who concealed his negative feelings when around others.

After deliberating on how to address the situation, you gently rested your hand on his shoulder, bringing yourself to eye level with him.

“Hey, you’re going to be amazing out there,” you reassured him. “I’ve seen how many hours you put into practicing that song. You have nothing to worry about.”

Chenle let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, you're right.”

The smile he bestowed upon you didn't quite convince you. Biting your lip in hesitation, you glanced around to ensure no one else was nearby. Once you were sure that you were alone, you leaned down and gently planted a kiss on the boy’s forehead. Chenle’s eyes widened in surprise at your actions.

“What was that for?”

Blushing, you took a step back and stammered, “Just for good luck, you know. I—I’ll be right there in the crowd, watching you. So if you feel nervous on stage, just look at me.”

A more reassured smile spread across Chenle’s lips and before he stood up to swiftly peck you on the lips, leaving you more stunned than he was a few seconds ago.

“There, I definitely feel more ready now,” he declared with a teasing glint. And the smug Chenle you were familiar with had returned.

As Chenle’s playfulness lingered in the air, the sound of the audience clapping erupted for the girls, putting an end to your “moment.” With a knowing look, you both parted ways, allowing Chenle to step into the spotlight for his performance.

As he took the stage, you found a spot in the crowd, eyes fixed on him with awe. The rhythm of the applause filled the air, drowning out any lingering thoughts. In that moment, the stage became his world, and you couldn't help but be swept away by the magic of his talent. The earlier exchange faded into the background as you watched Chenle shine, each note and melody weaving a captivating spell that left you in admiration.

Neither of you mentioned the kiss after that day. The interaction remained more platonic than anything, a gesture that was only meant to show your support for him. But Chenle still liked to think he killed the stage because of it.

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Chenle was undeniably responsible for the next time the two of you kissed. However, this particular incident didn't unfold until the first semester of your freshman year in college. The joy of discovering you both had been accepted into the same university was palpable, though Chenle appeared to be more exuberant about the news. In contrast, you felt a sense of relief, grateful that you wouldn't be venturing into the world of college alone.

In one of your classes, a sunbae began to show interest in you. Despite your attempts to politely reject him, it became apparent that he wasn't willing to accept no for an answer. 

One day after class, he cornered you in the hallway, insisting that you go out with him. As you tried to maintain your composure, he grabbed you by the wrist when you tried to walk away. The harsh move triggered internal panic within you.

You could sense the danger in his tone as his head tilted cockily. “Come on, (Y/n), don’t be so difficult. I know you’re just playing hard to get.”

“I—I’m sorry but I just don’t feel the same as you, Sunbae,” you stuttered, trying to be assertive. “Please let go.”

Refusing to relent, the sunbae was on the verge of pulling you in closer when another hand intervened, forcefully ripping you out of his grasp. Your head turned in astonishment to see Chenle casting a disgusted look at the guy in front of you. The flames in Chenle’s eyes made you realize that you had never seen him so livid before.

“She said to let go of her. What part of that do you not understand?” Chenle’s voice cut through the tension.

The sunbae scoffed and crossed his arms in defense, “Yah, who are you to involve yourself in someone else’s matters? Are you her boyfriend or something?”

You watched as the corner of Chenle’s lips turned into a smirk as he snaked an arm around your waist in a protective gesture. 

“That’s right. So who are you to go after another man’s girlfriend?” he retorted confidently. Your eyes widened, almost surprised as the jerk in front of you.

Shaking his head in a mix of disbelief and embarrassment, the sunbae pointed a finger at you. “This is a joke, right? You just asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend to mess with me!”

Before you could respond, Chenle took matters into his own hands. His free hand briskly moved to the back of your neck, drawing you in for a passionate kiss. In a typical situation, your best friend's impulsive actions might have freaked you out immediately. However, the way his fingers delicately pressed against your back reassured you that he was doing this for your sake, Closing your eyes, you kissed back and tried to reciprocate with the same passion Chenle was pouring.

Moments later, Chenle pulled away and turned to the sunbae, wearing a satisfied grin on his face. “Do you believe her now? Not that she has to prove anything to you.”

The older male muttered begrudgingly under his breath, “Whatever, not worth my time.”

With a scowl, he stormed off, leaving behind a palpable sense of relief in the wake of his departure. Once he was gone, you removed yourself from Chenle's hold and shot him a look of confusion.

“You know you didn’t have to do that right?” 

Chenle chuckled, “Well, someone had to put an end to his nonsense. Besides, I've always wanted to play the protective boyfriend card.”

“Protective boyfriend? You almost gave me a heart attack!” You smacked him on the shoulder.

Chenle’s smirk remained, but he adopted a more concerned tone. “But seriously, (Y/n), why didn’t you tell me he was bothering you earlier?”

“I thought I could handle things on my own.” You shrugged weakly, lowering your head in guilt.

Chenle sighed, recognizing your aversion to depending on others for your problems. Throughout the time he’d known you, he'd witnessed your willingness to go to great lengths to help those you cared about. However, when it came to your own struggles, you seemed to prefer suffering in silence.

“We’re best friends for a reason,” he reminded you, “Looking after each other is 50/50, you know?”

You offered him a small smile, “I guess you’re right. Thanks for saving me today.”

“Well, you can thank me by buying food tonight,” Chenle said, the playful glint returning to his eyes. “It’s your turn anyway.”

Rolling your eyes, you let him lead you out of the building. But Chenle’s words from earlier lingered in the back of your mind. “We’re best friends for a reason.” 

The two of you were the epitome of what best friends were. And that was all the two of you would ever be, right?

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At this point, you were beginning to lose count of the number of times you’ve kissed your best friend. Despite this, your friendship maintained its familiar rhythm throughout the university. But after that hallway encounter, the awkwardness that came with kissing your best friend faded. Although it was more of Chenle seeming unfazed, and you becoming less surprised each time it happened. And indeed, there were a few more instances that caused your lips to meet.

Like the time Chenle excitedly dragged you to his dorm to watch a Golden State Warriors game, and, in the heat of the moment, he gave you a quick kiss before cheering some more. Then there was the other time when you both went out for drinks with friends, a few drunken kisses were shared.

There weren't any real feelings attached to the kisses you and Chenle shared. At least, that was what you repeatedly told yourself. However, as you were halfway through your first year of university, you finally started to question the true nature of your friendship with Zhong Chenle.

Those thoughts began to sink in just before your first finals in college. Isolated in your dorm room, you immersed yourself in studying for a math exam scheduled in three days. Calls and texts from friends went largely ignored as you turned off your phone in an attempt to focus. However, Chenle wasn't about to let that slide. 

One night, he let himself into your dorm, carrying a bag of your favorite takeout—knowing well that you tended to skip meals when stressed. You could see the determination in his face, ready to scold you. But the expression quickly transitioned to one of concern when he caught you on the verge of a breakdown. 

You sat at your desk surrounded by textbooks and notebooks filled with scribbled equations. The sight of your trembling body and slightly tousled hair, a result of pulling on it too hard, tugged at Chenle’s heart. He was well aware of how your anxiety affected you at times. But he had never witnessed it manifest quite like this.

Instantly, the bag was placed on the floor, and he was at your side. “(Y/n), what's wrong?" 

“I—I'm going to fail my calc final,” you swallowed, your fingers curling into fists. Your shoulders slumped, and the weight of despair was evident in the way you hunched over the desk.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, attempting to calm you down. “You still have a few weeks before finals, (Y/n). And you’re not going to fail.”

“Yes, I am!” you cut him off, your voice strained. Tears welled up in your eyes, and your hands clenched even tighter. “I’ve been studying for days, and my dumb brain still doesn't understand anything. Do you know how stupid I feel?”

“Being bad at math doesn’t make you stupid, (Y/n),” Chenle said, trying to inject a bit of lightheartedness into the situation. However, his comment didn’t seem to offer you any comfort.

You shook your head miserably in response. “Stop trying to be nice. I'm going to fail, and then I’ll end up letting down my parents and everyone else.”

Chenle’s heart ached at the defeat in your voice. Setting his jokes aside, he recognized that words weren’t what you needed at the moment. Instead, he enveloped you in a warm embrace. You hesitated only briefly before surrendering to his comforting hold, attempting to fight back tears.

“Just let it out,” he whispered.

Those simple words acted as an emotional release trigger, and Chenle found himself gently rubbing your back as you quietly cried into his shoulder. A sense of mixed emotions flooded him as he held you in that moment. A part of him felt a twinge of relief, grateful that you let him be there for you. You often kept your emotions bottled up, making it a challenge for him to discern how you truly felt at times. 

However, there was a pang of sadness accompanying that satisfaction. He knew you didn't just cry in front of anyone, and realizing that you had reached this breaking point signaled the depth of your struggle.

After a while, Chenle gently pulled back, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You need a break, (Y/n). Let’s step away from the desk for a bit.”

"No, I really should—" you began to protest, but Chenle cut you off.

"You really should eat the food I brought you before it gets cold," he insisted, picking up the bag again.

He led you to sit on the carpet of your cramped dorm room, creating a makeshift dining space for the two of you. As you both shared a meal, Chenle continued to provide a comforting presence, occasionally cracking a joke to lighten the atmosphere.

As the night wore on, the exhaustion in your eyes became more prominent. Even so, you knew you should go back to studying. But Chenle seemed to disagree.

“Maybe you should just rest for the night. I promise to help you with math in the morning,” he suggested. However, upon seeing the unconvinced look you gave him, he backtracked on his words. “Okay, I'll have Renjun help you.”

Too tired to argue, you gave in, and that's how you found yourself lying in bed with your best friend. Back in high school, you used to have sleepovers at his house on the weekends. At night, the two of you would be lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and talking about anything. However, having him beside you at that moment felt strange. 

You saw a sincere tenderness reflected in those large eyes of his. A part of you wondered if Chenle often gazed at you with such fondness and you simply hadn’t noticed before. Either way, the way he was looking at you made you feel even stranger. And the short silence that had settled between the two of you wasn’t helping.

Uncertain of how much longer you could endure the intensity, you broke eye contact with him and murmured, “Thank you for always being there for me, even when I try to push you away”

Chenle chuckled, adjusting his position to prop himself up on his elbow. “Well, of course, because how could you live without me?”

His ability to joke at a time like this struck you as unfathomable. Instead of the usual eye roll or pushing off the bed, a serious expression remained etched on your face. 

“You're right, I don't think I can live without you,” you said, your voice laced with drowsiness. “Because you’re one of the few people who truly care about me.”

The amusement in his eyes danced away, as he felt the gravity of your words. Something about seeing this vulnerable side of you was so beautiful in his eyes. Before he could fully process his own thoughts, Chenle found himself leaning in to close the space between you with his lips meeting your own.

Uncertain whether it was the leftover stress from your meltdown or the sleep deprivation that prompted you to kiss back without much thought. You could recall all the times you’ve kissed Chenle throughout the years. But this one would always stand out to you.

This kiss lasted a lot longer than your previous ones. But it wasn’t just the way he tilted your chin upward for a better angle, or the feeling of his dark locks of hair slipping between your fingers. Nor was it the soft pressure of his lips moving in sync with yours. It was the indescribable emotions that made time seem to stand still, weaving an unspoken connection that surpassed words and left you yearning for more.

Aside from pulling away, both of you gasping for breath, and noticing how Chenle's lips were redder than you had ever seen them, you vaguely recalled what happened after the kiss. When you woke up the next morning, Chenle was already gone. However, he had left you a text message, mentioning that he went to check if Renjun could help tutor you in math.

But math was no longer the sole stressor in your mind. Your best friend had kissed you last night, and unlike all the other times, this one left you feeling more confused than ever. 

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True to his word, Renjun offered to meet up with you that Sunday afternoon at the campus library. Within an hour of sitting down to unravel the calculus concept that eluded you, Renjun finally helped you grasp the material. Although the looming fear of failing finals had diminished, you still felt a weight on your shoulders.

“You don’t seem as relieved as I thought you’d be,” Renjun remarked lightheartedly. Even he could tell your mind was preoccupied with something else.

You smiled sheepishly, “No, I am! I seriously owe you for helping me out. I just…”

“Is it something to do with Chenle?” he asked, almost like he was a mind reader.

His unexpected question caught you off guard. “How did you know?” you stammered, feeling the heat quickly rise to your cheeks.

A knowing smile played on the boy’s lips as he leaned back in his seat. “Oh come on, (Y/n). You have that look on your face that something happened between the two of you.”

Sometimes you seriously wished Renjun wasn’t so good at reading people. Even though you weren’t as close to him as Chenle was, he’s known you long enough to notice things that others wouldn’t. For instance, when something was troubling you.

Biting your lip, you debated whether to be truthful with Renjun. Although you didn't typically share your problems with others, you recognized that confiding in someone at a time like this was necessary to maintain your sanity.

“Chenle kissed me last night,” you tossed the statement out in the air, hoping you wouldn’t regret it.

Renjun’s eyes widened at this revelation, “He did?!”

“Well you see, we’ve kissed before. But this time it felt different,” you clarified, baffling the boy across from you even more. Internally cringing, you were acutely aware of how bad this sounded.

Before he could question, you continued to elaborate. “Look, it's not as complicated as it sounds. It’s just ever since we agreed to be each other’s first kiss, Chenle and I just keep having these…accidental kisses. Whether it’s out of excitement or to get guys hitting on me to go away.”

Renjun listened quietly as you recounted all the other times you’ve kissed Chenle. When you circled back to the previous night, you felt more conflicted than ever.

“But the kiss last night left me feeling so confused,” you confessed, running a hand through your hair. “Initially, I thought he was just doing it out of comfort, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Well, have you considered the possibility that he has feelings for you?” Renjun inquired, crossing his arms. His suggestion sounded so simple, yet it felt like navigating uncharted territory in your mind.

You shook your head in denial. “N—No, I mean we’ve been best friends for five years. He can’t possibly see me that way.”

“Like that’s ever stopped friends from falling for each other,” Renjun cocked his head. “It doesn’t take a genius to know that he likes you, (Y/n).”

His point made you mentally curse. If you looked at your history with Chenle from an objective point of view, the two of you certainly didn’t act like normal best friends.

“And, it’s pretty obvious that you like him too,” Renjun added, twirling the pencil between his fingers.

His statement left you feeling exposed, as if you had been caught red-handed committing a crime. Laughing nervously, you shook your head, “Renjun, we’re just friends. I…I don’t see him that way.”

Renjun raised an eyebrow, “Friends who kiss? Did you really not feel anything in those moments?”

Your teeth sank further into your lower lip as Renjun’s question hit you. The reality of your feelings for Chenle lingered in the air, challenging the facade you had built to convince yourself otherwise. It was like trying to hold sand in your fists, slipping away no matter how tightly you clenched. The truth, however inconvenient, seemed to be unraveling before you.

“I…I did feel something,” you slowly admitted, “But I never said anything because I didn’t want our friendship to change. It just seemed easier to pretend those moments were nothing more than accidents.”

Renjun’s eyes softened with understanding. “Well maybe a little change is what you need in your friendship.”

Maybe Renjun was onto something, perhaps change was necessary. In the past, you had always held out on dating, using the excuse that you were waiting for the right person. Despite the fear of potential rejection, what if Chenle was the person you had been waiting for all along?

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Chenle’s living room bathed in the gentle glow of the TV screen, a familiar sight during your Friday movie nights since college began. It was supposed to be a time to unwind, to escape the pressures of school for a little while. However, instead of the usual peaceful and easygoing atmosphere, an unspoken tension hung in the air tonight. Beyond picking a movie and deciding who made the popcorn, you and Chenle barely talked. The weight of the unspoken words made the space feel suffocating, and you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in your chest.

Unable to endure the weighty silence any longer, you turned your head to make a lame comment about the movie. However, before you could speak, Chenle beat you to it.

“Can we talk?” His voice carried a hint of restlessness, an unusual departure from his usual tone.

Trying to maintain a casual demeanor, you lightly nodded. With your acknowledgment, Chenle exhaled deeply and sat up straighter to face you properly.

“I know how crazy this might sound,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “But I’ve been thinking, and I don’t think we can stay friends.”

His words felt like a gun being pointed at your chest, panic surged within you as you tried to process the boy’s words. Of all the ways you predicted this conversation could go, this was not one of them.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice even smaller than his.

Noticing the perplexity in your eyes, Chenle continued. “You see, I've been in love with you for—I don’t know how long. But I spent all these years burying my feelings like a fool, because I never thought you’d see me that way. Yet, every time we kiss, it becomes harder for me to ignore my feelings for you.”

Chenle glanced down at his folded hands, vulnerability seeping into those brown orbs of his. “The other night made me realize that I don’t want to just be friends who kiss anymore. I want to be something more to you.”

His words lingered in the air now that they were out in the open. Your heart raced faster than it ever has before, as your cheeks flushed with heat. Chenle’s eyes bore into yours, his expression nervous yet hopeful. 

For a moment, you were left speechless. But you still had the sense to hit him on the shoulder, scolding, “Oh my gosh, you can’t start a conversation like that, Chenle. You scared me!”

The boy chuckled sheepishly, rubbing his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. But seriously, (Y/n), I meant what I said.”

A mix of emotions played on your face before you quietly admitted, “Honestly, I’ve wanted to be something more to you since that day we kissed in my bedroom.”

You noticed a smile of relief beginning to form on his lips, but you held up a finger before he could say anything. Now that he had taken the first step, you decided it was time for you to do the same.

“But I kept trying to convince myself that all the times we kissed were accidental or just for comfort,” you confessed, looking directly into his eyes. “And the reason I’ve been pushing away my feelings for you was because I was afraid of losing a friend who means the world to me.”

His hand rested on top of yours, the light touch sending a shiver down your spine. “You don’t have to be afraid because you’ll never lose me, (Y/n).”

The softness and sincerity in his eyes made you want to cry for some inexplicable reason. You once believed that confessing your feelings for Chenle would only lead to frustration and heartbreak. However, as you sat here with him, holding his hand, those worries seemed to vanish.

“So…what do we do now?” you asked, unsure of what was supposed to come next in these situations.

A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he grinned. “I think this is the part where we kiss. But you know, as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Just as you were processing his words, he moved closer, his breath warm against your skin, making your heart flutter. His eyes searched yours for permission. 

“Well, what are you waiting for then?” you whispered.

With that, the distance between you closed, and your lips met in a tender kiss. It was a sweet surrender, a culmination of years of friendship and suppressed feelings. Although this wasn’t your first kiss with Chenle, it felt that way in a sense. For you could finally savor the tender feeling of his lips without questioning the intention behind it.

In that moment, all you focused on was the way Chenle had his hand on the small of your back, guiding you closer as he deepened the kiss. Your fingers found their way to rest on the nape of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin. 

Although the change in this dynamic had just begun, this newfound connection promised countless moments of shared laughter, whispered confessions, and the sweet warmth of shared kisses. You had a feeling that you could easily get used to this beautiful new normal. By the way Chenle smiled during the kiss, you could tell he felt the same way.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

#nct dream #kpop #nctzen #czennie #nct dream imagines #chenle imagine #chenle fic #nct dream fic #chenle x reader #zhong chenle #nct scenarios #kpop fic #nct dream x reader #chenle #chenle scenarios

[unquietspiritao3]

Interrupting Your Irregularly-Scheduled Fic-Related Content with An Extremely Long Note on The Situation in British Comedy

Hi there. If you don’t want to read about my thoughts on everything happening in the British comedy scene at the moment, feel free to give this a skip. I totally understand needing to take a step away from such things. But I felt it was important to address, given some of the characters in my stories are based on the people involved/being criticized. I’m also going to link this post in the author’s note of my next chapter update, but feel free to share it before then with those who might not be on Tumblr.

CW: non-detailed mentions of transphobia, sexual assault, and childhood sexual abuse

Okay. I think to start, I need to explain a few of things about me.

First, as I alluded to in the opening author’s note for Should’ve been obvious, I am just an American with a moderate obsession with British panel shows and not enough time to keep up with the entire British comedy world. I jumped into writing in this fandom with huge gaps in my knowledge, which was possibly not wise.

Second, as a way to protect my own mental health and under the advice of my therapist, I’m what you might call ‘terminally offline.’ Before I reactivated this blog for the purpose of sharing fic inspo, I had not been on social media for over a year. I still don’t use it outside of Tumblr, where I follow a very narrow selection of blogs that mostly post Taskmaster gifs (love you all, btw). I don’t watch or read the news. I have systems in place with my friends and family to keep me informed when something really big happens, but outside of that, I am purposefully oblivious. The consequence of this is that I did not know about the two situations I’ll be discussing until I saw some stray posts this past weekend, and that’s why I didn’t address it before.

Third, I always (to a fault, my friends would say) give absolutely everyone the benefit of the doubt and see the best in people until they prove otherwise—and even then, even while holding them accountable and removing them from my life if need be, I try to be compassionate. That’s not going to change; it’s just who I am.

Now for the two situations, my thoughts on them, and their impact on my writing.

The Richard Ayoade Thing

I’ve said before that I’m genderqueer (she/they, equally happy with both, btw). I’m not down with transphobia. But I’ve read that Richard is a separate-the-art-from-the-artist kind of guy, so his personal views aren’t entirely clear to me. That said, the blurb he gave makes me uncomfortable because to me it seems to imply he does agree with the views in the book. I don’t know much about Richard and haven’t consumed much content with him other than Big Fat Quiz and some random clips of various shows, so please point me to anything that would confirm or refute this. For now, I’ll leave it there. In terms of my writing, this isn’t as big of a deal, since the Richard character isn’t central to anything and could be easily retconned out if I wanted to, but I’ll talk more about the writing at the end.

The Noel Fielding Thing re: Russell Brand

Like most Americans, I was introduced to Noel through GBBO. (Well, to be fully honest, I watched the Buzzcocks spanking clips long before then, because those get passed around in spanko circles, but I didn’t know, or care, who the guy in both of them was at the time. It took awhile for my crush on him to develop.) I’ve actually never seen The Mighty Boosh or much of Noel’s standup; he’s just a bit too surreal and nonsensical for me to enjoy when he’s in complete creative control. I’ve watched interviews going back to the time he was promoting Luxury Comedy, all his episodes of Big Fat Quiz, and some episodes of Buzzcocks, in addition to GBBO. I knew he and Russell Brand and had good on-screen chemistry, but I had no idea they were off-screen friends to some degree (at least, they were in the past; more on that below) until this weekend. I also didn’t know that Noel was ever accused of being in a relationship with a 16-year-old when he was in his 30s. I experienced sexual abuse throughout my childhood. Obviously, if that accusation is true, it’s completely unacceptable regardless of the legality in the UK and I will no longer be a fan of Noel.

But rather than try to break down all my complicated feelings on this situation regarding Noel, I’m just going to link to this post, which I agree with 100%, including the part about respecting people who feel differently. The two follow-up posts on the same blog give some good additional info/thoughts. I’m working on doing my own digging, trying to find anything relevant, including the source of the claim that the then-girl in the supposed relationship denied it too. No luck there so far, [EDIT: shared what I found here and it’s in Noel’s favor!] though I have discovered that she (now a woman in her 30s) and Noel currently follow each other on Instagram, and that Noel doesn’t follow Russell Brand (nor can I find a time Noel mentioned him after 2020, right about when it seems like Brand’s right-wing conspiracy-theory crap started). Make of that what you will. Personally, it makes me give Noel the benefit of the doubt unless and until further info is revealed.

Somewhat of a side note: It seems like people are most upset about the lack of a public statement from Noel, specifically. However, what I find odd overall is how there hasn’t been a real statement from any big-name British comic. Lou Sanders was basically strong-armed into saying some stuff in an interview that was supposed to be about her book. Katherine Ryan is very clear she doesn’t want to speak about it despite being the one that called him a predator on Roast Battle years ago. There’s this article about the problem in comedy more generally which several female comics are quoted in, and this one from 2020 including Fern Brady (highly recommend you read both if you can stomach it) but no specific quotes on Brand from names I recognize even there. Radio silence. UK people, can you tell me, is this normal because of the libel laws you all have? From what I understand, it’s much, much easier to be sued for defamation against a public figure and lose over there than over here. Should we expect to wait for an arrest or conviction (if that happens) before people feel safe commenting? Or what is going on?

Impact on My Writing and Final Thoughts

I’ve been having a hard time mental-health-wise, these past few days, reconciling the human need to connect to art with the fact that all art is created by imperfect humans and you simply cannot know what is in someone else’s head or past. That includes my own art. I want it to be an escape for you all, for you to feel safe reading it, but like everyone else, I’m imperfect, and part of that imperfection is not knowing what to do.

At least for now, I’m going to be focused on More than that, and Noel and Richard have never been in the plan to appear in this fic. As for the future, I’m undecided. I feel like I need more info, but I also recognize that we might not ever get real answers.

The sad truth is that writing fanfic always comes with the risk that the thing you’ve been inspired by is later revealed to be problematic. Even if not with these two, something could come to light at any time about any of these people we base our characters on. That last Guardian article I linked should give everyone chills.

I think the best I can do with the info I have today is to say I’m writing about a fictional universe populated with fictional characters, and my use of real people to inspire those characters does not mean I endorse their actions or beliefs; past, present, or future; known or unknown to me at this time. I also want to say, though, that I respect anyone who feels they can’t engage with certain fandoms or fics. Trust me, I do understand.

Take care of yourselves. I care about you so much, internet strangers. 💜

edit: linked the wrong article quoting fern, so added that

#meta #to a degree i guess?

[feathers-nest]

Zyglavis x Reader - Post-Canon

This is a new version of an old fic. I will be reposting, rewriting or editing most of my old fics, from my early days on Tumblr, to make an actual Tumblr fic post (the old posts only have the AO3 links), some of them (like this one) will be reposted as xReader versions, and so they are on the right blog too.

Summary: As you and Zyglavis prepare for your promised wedding on Earth, you realize you never told your parents much about him

Masterlist // Old Version

Zyglavis wasn’t surprised when you told him you wanted to invite your parents to the wedding ceremony the two of you were planning to have on Earth. What surprised him was how fidgety you were about it.

“You’ve told your parents about us, haven’t you?”

“Kind of. I have been deciding what and how to tell them. It’s not like I can just come out and tell the truth, can I?”

Of course, you couldn’t just come out and tell your parents he was a god, but with how much you talked with your mother, he didn’t expect for your not to have come up with something already.

“That is certainly not an option. But I thought you had told them something.”

“I told them your name and told them we were dating. It wasn’t important to fill them into anything else before.” You looked up from the book you were reading. Despite the serious situation, you were smiling. “How would I know we would be here, preparing to get married on Earth, and that I would have the opportunity to invite them to the wedding?” You snuggled into his chest, and Zyglavis hugged you.

Everything about your relationship was a miracle. You were two beings that shouldn’t have even met, and your relationship had been tested many times. Despite that, you were now married by heavenly custom, and he wanted to give you the earthly wedding you dreamed of as well.

Neither of you had dared to dream this was possible, so it was understandable you hadn’t prepared for it before. But between his proposal and all the preparations, you should have realized he would need to meet your parents before the wedding.

“We are very lucky, indeed.” He caressed your hair, feeling you relax more under his touch. “That doesn’t change the fact that your parents know nothing about me when you are trying to tell them we are getting married. What do you plan to tell them?”

“Don’t worry.” You looked up at him with an even bigger smile. “I’ll just tell them the closest to the truth as possible. I have some ideas. I’m just dreading a couple of questions.”

“One is where I’m from. Just telling them I am from somewhere else, like you do with your co-workers won’t be enough.” You nodded. “The other is about work.”

You shook your head and snuggled into him again, chuckling.

“I’m prepared for that last one. I’m afraid Dad might ask how old you are. But I guess just saying I love you too much to even bother asking isn’t a lie.”

“In other words, distract them until they stop asking.” He shook his head and sighed, hugging you tighter. It wasn’t the most honest idea, but it was so much like you to avoid lying as much as possible, and given the circumstances, that was an impressive feat.

“Better than lying to them, right? Or we could just convince my sisters to bring Hue and Karno along. It’s always easier to escape uncomfortable things in a group. Besides, these things are so minimal, I doubt they’ll get hung up on it when they see how much I’m happy, even if they don’t understand. The fact that I love you and you love me is all that matters, isn’t it?”

“Of course.” Zyglavis smiled as you looked up into his eyes again. The only reason he was doing these things, and the only reason that doing them right mattered to him, was because he knew they would make you happy. If you said it was fine and that you didn’t mind, then why would he?

Zyglavis kissed you, knowing that, no matter what happened, you would have a bright future, because your love was stronger than anything.

#star crossed myth #scm zyglavis #zyglavis x reader #scm #fanfiction #scm fanfic #repost

[sapphicsandscience]

20 questions for fic writers

Not going to lie - no one tagged me in this lol - but I am doing it .

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

47.

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

322,829.

Crazy number for me. I know some have literal millions but I can’t believe I’ve written that much in like the last two or three years??

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently Star Trek (TNG/VOY/PIC & some DS9). ER and Criminal Minds more so in the past. But ER I’ll never leave you.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Aster

- my labor of love - no pun intended.

- i WILL finish her (manifest it pls).

A Flame In Your Heart

- going to be honest writing post s3 isn’t something that interests me the most.

- however, this is a cute story and i wish i had some more ideas for it as i feel like i lack direction.

I Should Have Moved Moons For You

- ahhh.

- a fic I really should have pre-written before posting but i do have fun with it.

- i am half confident she will be finished in time but it stresses me out thinking about it and my outline lol.

- but like most of my WIPs the chapters are all outlined and i do have semi-concrete endings for them or at least know the main plot.

A Lot Of Things Can Happen In Two Months

- like the concept but i think i could have written it better ?

- feels a bit messy but also there are a lot of feelings in it.

- but happy i got it finished !! and i am proud of it overall.

Eighteen Minutes

- ngl I forgot I wrote this lol.

- the only one-shot here.

- def benefited kudos wise from being posted after the second episode aired.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! And I love to give comments regardless if I get a reply from the author. But personally, I like to reply back as the commenter has taken their time to do this. And you can have some really lovely and funny interactions in the comments haha … I just love talking about fic.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Well…it would have to be either of the ones I killed Beverly in - Last contact or Too Late.

Not sure which is more angstiest?

However, as for a multichap ending that ends the most angstiest and wasn’t written to be a character-death-fic - maybe - A Lot Of Things Can Happen In Two Months. Which sucks cause it’s pretty much canon compliant LOL.

Hmm now I am tempted to write another multichap with a less than happy ending…

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics that have an ‘ending’ are WIPS that I haven’t finished yet lol.

But maybe Our Turn - it’s just Beverly and Jean-Luc enjoying everything wonderful in their lives <3

8. Do you get hate on fic?

Not really - I doubt anyone cares enough lol. But I am ‘fortunate’ that some of the more ‘controversial’ ships I may write have had writers come before me and take the brunt of any crap :(( but they’ve created a lovely sandbox for the rest of us to play in <3

9. Do you write smut?

Not often but I have yeah…and *deep breaths* … I have no idea if I am even acceptable at it LOL. It’s definitely something I sometimes want to add to my fics and lately I’ve been giving in a little.

Okay, someone tell me if I am terrible and I will stop.

10. Do you write crossovers?

It’s not my go to thing but yes I have. Including the fusion ER/TNG fic that three people have probably read (but three people I love).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No but that would be cool as!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! With my lovely and supportive ER fic buddies ❤️

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Not sure how best to answer this. It is very dependant on my current hyperfixation and I am one of those sapphics that very much is into the woman more than the man in terms of interest in f/m ships…

However, at the moment it’s Beverly/Jean-Luc and I can say I am definitely more invested and interested in Jean-Luc’s character than I have been with other men in f/m ships. So that’s another reason.

But I love to read/write Crusher/Janeway ❤️ and LOVE those characters. Kerry/Sandy too is special to me.

Can honestly say apart from helping me give Emily Prentiss a baby in my fics I never cared that much for any of her ships I wrote (sorry 😭).

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but probably won't?

Probably better I don’t answer this. It stresses me out cause I want them all to be done 😭

I’ll answer with a WIP I never posted which was a dystopian AU with Kerry and Sandy. Field medicine, babies (it’s me so ofc) and friends trying to survive together.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hmm - I think I can come up with some good ideas. I can be good at description and introspection … probably more than dialogue.

And I am very strong in the art of giving Beverly Crusher lots of babies. And also making her go through angsty stuff. But I make up for that with the babies I think.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Long intricate plots ? I would love to be better as balancing many themes and plot points in one story. I struggle with dialogue sometimes as well.

Also I am very word count preoccupied at times which is a hindrance as a writer. I sometimes really struggle to get anything out in a session then can overcompensate later by writing too much? But honestly either way I just let myself go with the flow these days otherwise I stress about it.

Yeah and I probably need to edit better.

And smut.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Is this controversial?? I don’t have any issue with it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

(redacted)

20. Favourite fic you've written?

These are both not what I would consider my best work (idk what that even is) but probably Gone (Ice)fishing or It Takes A Village.

Both were written as gifts and out of my comfort zone (for different reasons) but I am really proud of them both.

But I also love some of my Kerry/Sandy one-shots I did here on this blog. And Aster is definitely a personal accomplishment in terms of length as a writer. I love it too ❤️.

Oh, also - To Build A Home - cause it’s tragic & angsty but also BABY🥹 - it’s just my brand.

—————————————————

Okay -I’ll shut up now.

Anyone feel free to do this and tag me.

#fic ask #ask meme #fanfiction #writing

[substituted-shinigami]

Writing Update: March 2023

Hello everyone, and welcome back to “Writing Updates”. I’m going to try to do these once a month, but uh… we’ll see! 😅 (Anyone remember Bleach Free Mondays? I definitely didn’t forget about Bleach Free Mondays… 🥲)

Good news: I wrote an awful lot this month! ☺️ I put out a request for prompts, and I got two!!! (Thanks again! 🥰) And both fics turned out okay, although I think they need some more time in the oven before they go on AO3. However, I also do have a different AO3 fic ready to go for the end of the month, which is great! I had it written before, but I wanted to put it away so that I could look at it with fresh eyes, hence the prompt ask. That and while I really felt like writing, I didn’t like editing, and especially not editing FREAKING BLOODLINES (more on that later). I’m really happy that I’ve been able to keep up with my chapter a month goal so far, and I think taking breaks from my longer fic has really helped with that! 

Bad news: I haven’t done a lot of art recently… Although to be fair, part of the problem is that while I can do writing anywhere (at home, at doctor’s appointments, on the road, …when I’m in the ER…again 😅), I can only draw at home. Another problem is the editing process. Even when I think a writing piece is solid and completely done, if I think of something later I can just go back and edit it anytime (Heck, I just did it with the piece coming out later today!). But with art, once I ink and color it, that’s kind of it. It’s done. That wonky eye is just going to be a wonky eye. So maybe I just need to be more okay with that? Idk. Oh but, I do have a couple of things I do want to draw though!  So hopefully I’ll be able to finish those up and get them out. 

Semi-Good News? (Okay, let’s be honest, I’m just going to complain about Bloodlines): Sigh…  Bloodlines, the fic I originally had slotted for January and now it’s almost April. 😅 Last I checked on it, it seemed good. Heck, parts of it I even really liked! But it felt good in the “this is as far as I can take this right now” way, not in the “this is actually good” way. Plus I’ve been learning to put fics away and look at them again weeks later to get a fresh perspective. This is especially important as a new writer because since I have so much to learn, there's a high chance that something new is going to click like a week down the line. Which is sort of what happened??? Like the fic I’m posting later isn’t perfect and is a little weird, but I’ve always been very bad at “show, don’t tell” when it comes to writing, and I feel like this piece does it a little better than some of my others? So I’d like to incorporate some more of that into Bloodlines. It’s got a little, but not nearly enough. Honestly, with all the little changes I’ve been adding over time, I’m half tempted to hold on to it all the way till December and just post it as my big, “end of year/this is everything I’ve learned” piece. Unfortunately, I’m also very impatient, so we’ll see what happens! Plus sometimes holding onto something sometimes keeps me from moving on so…. Eh, I’ll figure it out eventually! 

Welp, this has gotten long. Thank you for reading! This month’s fic should be up later today. Like I said earlier, it’s a bit different, but I had fun writing it! See you all next month! 😁

#writing update #march 2023

[eyra]

Hi! I read your faq, and you state you don’t mind printing your fics on A4 paper, but don’t want people to use a service to get your fics made into books (that is completely understandable btw as it could have legal repercussions for you.) How do you feel about people hand-making books for personal use? I’d love a physical copy of your fics, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.

Ello. First of all thank you for asking the question. Being totally honest I haven’t worked out how I feel about this yet - I do sometimes come across people who have made my fics into hand-bound books and on the one hand I really want to feel honoured that someone has enjoyed my writing enough to do this, but on the other hand I feel a bit annoyed if it’s been done without my permission. A wise friend of mine said “binding an author’s fic without asking is like getting a tattoo without the artist’s permission” and I think that’s kind of where I sit. It does especially piss me off when I then see people sharing the “books” they’ve made on TikTok, because it’s never about encouraging their followers to read the fic themselves - it’s about using my creative work for their own clout. Maybe it shouldn’t annoy me as much as it does and maybe other authors would just feel really flattered by it and maybe it’s hypocritical of me, given that I’m using someone else’s characters in my stories in the first place (although I do think extreme-AU fanfiction using minor characters sits in a slightly greyer space), but that’s just where I am with it at the moment. Maybe I’ll change my mind on it at some point.

There’s also the question of how much control I’m allowed to have over my own creative work. When my fics exist solely on AO3 under my own account, I have complete control over them. I can change them, I can update them, I can delete them entirely. As soon as people start taking them and duplicating them in other mediums, I lose that control, and that does make me uncomfortable.

Aside from anything else, the stuff I write isn’t meant to sit on bookshelves alongside published novels - it’s fanfiction and its home is on AO3, and that’s okay. I’d love to write a novel one day and publish it and have that be an actual physical book, but that’s not what A Brief History of Dragons, for example, was ever supposed to be. If people want to print my fics for accessibility reasons then absolutely go for it, but if they want to make hand-bound books from my writing just because they want to “own” a physical copy of it, that feels like a different thing to me.

I’d love to hear thoughts from other fanfic writers on this question as like I say, I’ve still not quite figured out how I feel about it.

#ask #I don’t know how helpful this answer is

[savedbythefall]

Look, I haven’t been able to properly write in months.

Perhaps it’s just the thing that’s like, well, I’d rather read than write anyway, and I really have been reading more fanfic than writing it lately. Everything I’ve written was related to my introspective personal thoughts. A modern Pete Wentz, one might say. I think this was mostly because of the fact that I’m usually surrounded by people, and i feel strange writing fic with people who are so ABLE to just look over my shoulder and see what I’m doing. It’s a little scary, I’ll be honest. They’ll be like what are you doing? And I’ll be like torturing my favorite characters uwu, and then they’ll probably be like wow, you’re a freak and a nerd or something demoralizing like that. 

And we’ve got the writers on tumblr. I mean, I follow inkskinned, I’ve seen their free form poetry, and it’s really good. So I was like well, maybe I could get away with just writing freeform and posting it here, because the thing is, I just can’t write about others anymore. But the other thing is, I don’t want to directly be copying the ideas of someone, and I know sometimes I do that subconsciously. Really, truly, I can’t do anything in life without following a roadmap. I think that I have been SO consumed with media my entire life that I feel as though I have to have my life look like a story or I might just go insane. This might be because I need the guarantee of a happy ending, or at least a hopeful one; the girl gets the girl, the girl goes to the college she wants to, the girl lives a good happy life and against all odds, beats the chances. But I’m not on the same paths as those characters, and I’m not on the same paths as my idols, either. So that leaves me in this weird space where I don’t really know what to do with my life because the circumstances just don’t match up, and I have no guidance.

Yeah, yeah, I’ve got therapy. My therapist, Ms A, told me to stop thinking of my life as a movie. You can’t keep pretending your life is a story, Toby, is more along the lines of what she said. If you know me in real life, you know how much I listen to music. It’s almost a lifestyle at this point. You can take the girl out of the music but you can’t take the music out of the girl. I want to be a singer, like Hayley Williams or Alex Gaskarth. The thing is, though, they got their starts so early, and can play instruments, and overall they lived in an era where I just DON’T. The circumstances will NEVER LINE UP. So I try to follow roadmaps. I try to find a person with experiences close enough to mine that I can follow the traits of.  

In the music industry, there are two flips of the same coin. It basically goes like this: you either sing about love and sex, or you sing about depression. And I can’t really sing about either.

I’m not going to deny it. I’m privileged. My parents are together and supportive of most things and their relationship is fine. We have a good house. My grades are on the decent side. I’m definitely not at my peak (I would hope my peak isn’t in high school) but I’m definitely not at my lowest low, either. We have enough money for food and necessities, plus occasional trips. You could categorize us as middle class. 

And I guess I haven’t really suffered enough emotionally or physically to call myself depressed. You know? Because when you think about it, there’s really nothing wrong with me. I’m not ADHD or autistic (my brother is both), although I’ve been told I’m just in denial by several sources. My home life is… fine, most of the time. Like, what do I have to complain about? I’m so ungrateful because I’m fortunate and yet I’m discontent. It would almost make the average person feel like there is something wrong with them. Why don’t I feel content? Why do I always want more? There is no forging my own path. There is only following these previously carved roads somewhere I think is home. 

When I have panic attacks (which sounds concerning, but I only get them like, twice a year, it’s fine) I put in the absolute loudest, noisiest music I can stand. Like, ‘I Am My Own Muse’ or ‘Famous Last Words’ or ‘Death Of An Executioner’. And then I close my eyes and get up on that mental stage. Just picture it. There are phone flashlights waving back and forth. Stadium packed up to the gate. They’re all there to see me. They cheer when I walk on, because they care. A million people care who I am and I don’t even know who they are. I’m playing that song that’s not mine but singing it like it is, and I am universally loved. 

And, yeah. That’s the dream. I’m famous and the media’s darling and I get to do my thing up there in front of a crowd begging on their knees to hear my words. 

But it’s not going to happen. I mean, how would it? I can’t live out this dream because I haven’t followed the right path, haven’t traced the road through the line between fanfiction and real life. I hate the idea of creating a new road. I hate the idea of drawing a new way, even though that is exactly what the people I admire have done. I’m this pathetic mess of conscious thought and feeling. 

Look, I could type my insecurities on a doc for ages. It could end up a memoir. Toby’s Lament, it would read. Tales from the girl who didn’t know what to do with herself, so she just did nothing. If Joe Trohman can write a memoir, I sure as hell can. This all reads as petty, self pitying bitching, I’m sure. Honestly, looking back on this, I seem like a privileged asshole. But hey. I just wrote two pages worth of words in google docs. So I think, if it gets me writing again, it might just be worth it for that. 

#I don’t have anything good in the notebook today so this takes its place of the daily #long post #writeblr

[cynicalmusings]

WAAA I HAVEN'T INTERACTED IN SO LONG!!!

life just got so busy ;=; with exams, upcoming colleges i have to think about applying, my future – it's really held me back from breathing and interacting with what i like :( BUT I AM HERE TO INTERACT ONCE MORE!!! maybe i can finally draw again bwoah, it's been weeks since I've picked up that dusty ol tablet

anyways, that writer ask game heehoo o_o : 🌈 🍉 🤍

it’s good to see you again! hopefully things will calm down soon for you.

(don’t worry; i haven’t properly touched my genshin writing in ages, so you’re not the only one who’s let dust gather in some creative areas…)

now, onto the ask game:

🌈 - is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

cyno’s dark fairytale au is… pretty hard work. i love working on it, don’t get me wrong, but the elaborate writing style paired with actually having to follow a planned out storyline and make sure the plot is tight and makes sense etc. as opposed to winging funky little oneshots is quite difficult sometimes, considering i have the attention span of a hummingbird (do hummingbirds have short attention spans? they just came to mind for some reason.) i’ve also talked sometimes about how i pride myself on that 100 followers special fic, because it took time. i had to visualise the character designs and do some brief research on mask designs (primarily venetian masks), and it took me literal weeks to choose which waltz/ piece to assign to the characters that matched their personality and their scene best. then i also needed to write the whole thing up, and the level of detail in that is up there with my dark fairytale au. i’ll always be a tiny bit salty that it has below 100 notes whereas some random brainrots i slapped down on a whim get, like, five times as many, but hey, what can you do?

🍉 - in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

i use writing (and reading) a lot as a sort of escape mechanism. when i’m stressed or going through a tough mental spot, it really helps to lose myself in fiction and especially in fictional characters that i like, and not have to worry about real life for a bit. call me painfully self-indulgent, but sometimes i imagine how certain characters might comfort me if i came to them with my troubles, and it actually helps me wind down a bit. i realise it’s… slightly worrying that i’m literally coming to fictional characters in my own brain for comfort instead of real people, but, uh… it’s nice, so… good for me….?

🤍 - what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?

oooh…. i don’t know, actually. i already sort of mentioned my 100 followers special, and i don’t want to repeat myself, so let me look through my masterlist quickly.

…funnily enough, this isn’t actually on my masterlist, but maybe that continuation of a the kazuha royalty au i originally got as an event request ages ago. i did a touch of worldbuilding here and there and it was pretty fun, and i remember being somewhat proud of the reader’s character development; something which maybe might not have been ‘gotten’, or at least registered that much, by the audience because of the reader meaning to be self-insertion-y instead of a full-fledged character, and i definitely leaned more heavily towards making them a character of their own for that. i don’t really regret it, though, because i enjoyed writing for them and treating them like a character rather than a blank slate— to be honest, i find writing a reader with a clear personality more satisfying than one without, even if it’s not really the point. basically, i’d rather be compelled by a character than see myself in their shoes 100%, even if it means sacrificing some of that self-insertion. to be honest, i could go into a full-fledged essay (ramble) about how i write reader inserts and why and some pet peeves i have with their characterisations (or lack thereof, in some cases), but i’ll spare you poor souls for now.

#sent: bluebelony #r answers

[thefanficmonster]

Casual

Ranboo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None, unless talking about the future counts

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Following the arrival of the dreadful invitation to his cousin’s wedding Ranboo turns to the only cover-up he can think of to keep his still-single status hidden from his family.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so glad you sent your idea to me and I’m so glad you were my first official Ranboo request. I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to write it but I still hope you’ll come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Heyyy, so Y/N, I have a favor to ask you...um yeah, call me back, it’s awkward sending it via voicemail. Bye“

Huh - that’s the first thought that goes through my head when I listen to the voicemail left after a missed call from my best friend Ranboo. The favors he usually asks for consist of requesting assistance for his videos in which I also appear with a mask and sunglasses to keep the brand running. I genuinely have nothing against my face being shown but when I think about it, I’m honestly a bit glad people can’t identify me.

Anyways, back to the favors, Ranboo is no stranger to asking me for them but they’ve never been considered too awkward for a voicemail which is why I’m no slightly concerned. I’ve been swamped with work for school and studies for the graduation finals for the past two weeks and it seems like I’ll never get on top of it and I know Ranboo’s been in a similar situation too, so maybe he needs help with that? He’s not used to asking help for school stuff, he sometimes even has a hard time accepting it when I openly offer it to him.

I eventually sigh, decide that playing this guessing game will not get me anywhere and settle on giving him a call as I make my way home from the gym with my legs barely putting up with the task of carrying me around.

He picks up on the second ring.

“Hey! Wh-...“

“Would you pretend to be my girlfriend for my cousin’s wedding next weekend?!“

My legs take that opportunity to stop moving in the middle of the sidewalk which is luckily void of any people at the moment. It’s not my fault my body’s first reaction was to freeze up at the question that came flying at me like an out-of-control jet, almost as though he’s been dying to say it and get it over with.

“Um...run that by me again please, I think I misunderstood.“ I say, blinking blankly as though awoken from a fever dream. No, actually as though I’m IN a fever dream right now.

“Ok, now that the cat’s out of the bag, wanna grab some coffee and talk about it face-to-face. I need to see your facial expressions to gauge what response to expect.“ He says, the previous nervousness gone and his voice calm as regularly once again.

I’m this close to face-palming but I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and bring myself to utter a reply, “Our usual spot. Be there in ten minutes.”

                                                             *  *  *

“No freaking way.“ I shake my head, folding my arms over my chest as I lean back in my seat in the booth we picked when we arrived. Good thing I got an iced coffee cause even a hot one would’ve gone cold by now considering I haven’t yet taken the time to have even a sip of it. I’ve been too busy listening to the long and short of the explanation and begging speech Ranboo probably made last night to try and convince me to agree to this nonsense. “Dude, we’ve been friends since middle school-...“

“Exactly! Who else was I gonna ask?“ He cuts me off, pleading gaze meeting my unimpressed one.

I huff before continuing my previous statement, “We’ve been friends since middle school so you know my opinion on weddings.” I put extra emphasis on the word ‘opinion’, giving him the clear hint at the distaste I’ve expressed on the topic multiple times before.

“And you know we’re on the same page there but there’s no way I can avoid going unless someone kidnaps me.“ He too now gets in the same stance as me, his coffee forgotten too.

I can’t help but snort out a little laugh, “I’d be more than happy to kidnap you considering the other option is far less appealing to me.“

He, of course, rolls his eyes at me as though he didn’t offer to do the same thing so I could avoid an exam but anyways. “So you’re gonna choose to fake a kidnapping that has the potential of landing you in jail over coming to eat some great food and maybe even have some fun at a wedding with your best friend? I’m hurt.“ He says, frowning to cover up the smile that’s fighting its way onto his face.

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes, “I’d be kidnapping you, dummy...” I cut myself off to let out a long sigh and calm down before I go off at him. His smirk isn’t helping me much with the task either. I’ve known Ranboo long enough to know he’ll eventually convince me and he’s known me long enough to know how to do that exactly. With that in mind, there’s really no point in getting so worked up and wasting my energy. And so, despite my own rationality, I cave. “Fine, but I’m not staying the whole wedding.“

His eyes immediately light up and almost makes me feel the compromise was worth it. Almost. I mean, when you’ve been best friends with someone for so long, seeing them happy is worth more to you than your own comfort sometimes.

And he knows it too. Which is exactly why he outstretches his hand for me to shake and says: “Just one dance and you’re free to go. Deal?”

I take his hand without hesitations. That’s a better offer than I could’ve ever imagined. “Damn straight it’s a deal.“

                                                            *  *  *

“How long until you kick the heels off?“ Ranboo asks, bringing me a non-alcoholic cocktail and sitting down next to me.

I take a sip and giggle, “You kidding? I already kicked them off and replaced them with flats. I need mobility if we dance. They also lower the risk of me severing off a toe of yours if I step on you on accident.”

He laughs, clinking his glass against mine before he gets a bit more serious, “By the way, thanks for handling my family’s attack so well. I know it might’ve been a bit much but you handled it like a pro. Still, I’m sorry on their behalf.”

I shake my head and wave my hand dismissively, “Don’t mention it. I’d probably react the same way if my brother or cousin brought a date to an important family event like this.” I instinctively turn to look in the direction of where the majority of his family has gathered around, chatting with guests, smiling brightly. It’s hard not to immediately take a liking towards these people. They’ve been a second family to me ever since Ranboo and I started hanging out so I completely understand why they were so shocked to see me in the role of his ‘girlfriend’.

“I’ll tell my parents the truth later, our extended family is the ones I wanted to fool to be perfectly honest.“ He looks around as do I and we catch more than a few pairs of eyes fixated on us that turn away when they realize they’ve been spotted, “Mission accomplished by the looks of it.“

I chuckle. I’ve never felt so comfortable at a wedding before. I don’t feel stressed nor anxious despite knowing that there’s quite the number of eyes on me and there are whispers going around about my ‘relationship’ with Ranboo. It’s oddly calming and relaxing to be surrounded by some familiar and some unfamiliar faces. This cocktail is pretty great too.

Speaking of which, if it had any alcohol in it I’d blame it for the decision I’m about to make but this one’s entirely on me: I tap Ranboo with one hand while taking out my phone with the other. “If we’re already the talk of the wedding, let’s give them something to talk about.“ I say as I put up my phone, pretending to be taking a selfie leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

When I pull away I can clearly see that he’s still processing what just happened. I can’t help but burst out in a fit of laughter as I reach out to wipe the lipstick stain I left on his cheek. He looks like a lost, clueless puppy with the question: ‘what on Earth just happened???’ replaying in his head and it’s so freaking cute!

Wait....what was that? Since when do I use the adjective cute to describe Ranboo? Didn’t I think he looks handsome in a suit earlier too? The hell is with me today?

Then it hits me - the feeling isn’t foreign. Like, I know I’ve felt it before but I never analyzed it or even bothered to acknowledge it. But now that I do, I’m afraid of what it might be.

“There!“ I say, desperately trying to push the thoughts away along with this little firework show in my stomach, “Now you have pinker cheeks. Well, cheek, singular.“

As if snapping out of his state of confusion, he returns to Earth with a smirk, “Kiss the other to even it?”

Alright, his blush might not be even but mine now is and it’s ten times as intense and very much apparent but I don’t let the feeling shine through anything else as I proceed to actually kiss his other cheek too, wiping the lipstick stain.

“Thanks. You’re the best.” And just like that, as though it’s no big deal, he kisses my forehead.

See, that’s the thing, it shouldn’t be a big deal! It’s never been! This is far from the first time I’ve kissed him on the cheek or the first time he’s given me a forehead kiss. These are regular occurrences after years of this lovely friendship we have. Why do they feel so different now?

Then, much to my relief, the music starts and the lights turn off leaving only one spotlight for the groom and bride to have their first dance. They look absolutely astonishing and I can certainly say I’ve never before stopped to think that about any newly weds of the weddings I’ve preciously been to. I don’t know if it has something to do with the company I have for this particular wedding or it’s maybe the fact that my mindset’s changed over the years without me realizing.

Then I automatically look at Ranboo who just so happens to be looking at me too and all I can say is: my mindset hasn’t changed.

A loud applause takes over when the couple finish their dance, officially opening the dancefloor for any other pairs who’d like to occupy it and I’m happy to see how many people are eager to rush up with their partner.

 Ranboo gets up, putting the glass down and offers me his hand, “So, wanna dance? Don’t take this as a sign to leave though, we said one dance and you CAN leave, not SHOULD.” He says, giving me a warning look.

I roll my eyes and am about to give him some sass right back but he takes my hand and picks me up from my seat, leading me to the dancefloor.  And I gotta admit maybe it’s a good thing he did. If he left it to me I would’ve probably said no to the dance and ran the hell away. Why? - Cause I’m freaking terrified of this new mindset and point of view and these intense emotions I never used to pay any mind to before in regards to my best friend.

Friends don’t feel that way about friends. Friends don’t look at friends that way. What’s happening to me?

When I gotta look him in the eyes like this, not for the first time might I add, I can finally understand how the friends-to-lovers trope works: it’s all meaningless until it starts to mean so much to you. It’s all platonic until it reminds you of a romantic movie moment. It ‘best friends’ until it’s ‘I wish we were more than that’. It’s all casual, until it’s not.

And, unfortunately, it’s irreversible.

Damn do I wish I ran away now...

#ranboo #ranboo fanfiction #ranboo x you #ranboo fanfic #ranboo fluff #dream smp #ranboo imagine #ranboo x y/n #ranboo x reader #fic #fanfic #fanficiton #fandom #fluff #friends to lovers #x reader #request #requests open #reader

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Nanny Pt. 1

Lee Bodecker x Nanny!F!Reader

18+ 

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, Sandy and Carl being bad parents, 18+ content in later chapters 

Summary:

Based on this Request: The reader moves to Meade/Knockemstiff while answering an advertisement for a nanny in the paper. We learn that the ad was posted by Sandy, who has the reader watch her child whenever she and Carl leave to do their secret thing. After one of these trips, Sandy and her husband never return, so the reader is left caring for their baby. With the new investigation into these events, she meets Sandy’s brother Lee, the older, out of shape, alcoholic bachelor, and they are suddenly thrown into each others lives as he begins looking into his sister’s disappearance. Through it all, Lee starts to fall for her, and they slowly become a family.

A/N: Here is the first part of my newest series and I want to thank the anon who reached out to me with this idea! 

If I missed anything I should include as a warning that I missed please let me know!

Taglist Form is in my bio and should be updated to now to include this fic! (If for some reason it isn’t working send me a message and I’ll make sure you’re added!!)

“Damn it, Sandy, can’t you handle that?” Carl yells from his dark room as the baby starts crying again.

“Fuck you, Carl,” Sandy shouts back, hurrying to put out her cigarette before heading to the nursery.

Their little girl was just about a year old, and neither one of them knew what they were doing. Carl was incredibly indifferent and despite her honest attempts at motherhood, Sandy’s maternal instincts never kicked in like she thought it would happen. Carl was annoyed that it cut into their time they would be on trips. They weren’t able to photograph models with the baby on the road, so he’d been itching to get back on the road.

“Is she hungry?” he shouts back, not even bothering to take his eyes off of the most recent photographs he had been developing.

“I just fed her!”

“Then why is she crying?”

“Fuck if I know,” Sandy shouts back exasperated. She scooped up the baby from her crib and started to rock her back and forth in her arms. Sandy also tried burping her, humming a little lullaby she made up on the fly… no luck. She walks around the house with the baby on her hip, trying to rock her back to sleep.

“We haven’t able to get back on the road in a year,” Carl says, clearly frustrated.

“That ain’t purely my fault,” she spits back, “Takes two to make a baby, Carl.”

“Fuck I know,” he groans, “But I need new inspiration. If I take one more picture of nature…”

“If she’s such a hindrance, pay for a damn sitter like I suggested months ago,” she counters.

“We can’t have no stranger walking around the house Sandy,” he points out.

“Just keep your damn room locked, it’s not a huge deal,” Sandy sighs. “Besides, no one is gonna snoop around if you pay ‘em enough. You damn well produce your own incriminating evidence; you should always have that room locked anyways.”

“We only have to worry about your damn brother,” Carl points out, “We hire a fucking sitter that’s two people we need to worry about.”

“You’re just to goddamn cheap to hire somebody,” Sandy states, moving back towards the nursery, the baby now snoring softly.

“You know what? Fine,” Carl says defeated. “But you’re in charge of putting the ad out and hiring somebody.”

“Thank you,” she says in a sing song tone, happy she got her way. But the moment of quiet that follows is short lived as they baby starts crying again.

“Please for the love of God can you just take care of that?” Carl yells, and the argument circles back to the beginning.

You had sat in the small dinner in the corner booth hunched over the newspaper and nursing your now cold cup of coffee. You had just arrived in Knockemstiff and were looking for work. “Any leads?” Julie asked as she topped off your coffee. Julie was your roommate. You had found her the same way you were currently looking for a job. You must have answered at least ten terrible Roommate Wanted ads until you had found Julie. The two of you now share an apartment- the top floor of a three-family owned by a sweet older couple.

“Thank you,” you say without looking up from scanning the ads. “Maybe this one?” You say pointing to one of the ads. She looks to see her manager stepped out for his smoke break before sliding in the booth across from you. You slide the paper over to her and she reads the ad out loud.

NANNY NEEDED Knockemstiff, Ohio

Couple that travels for work in need of a nanny for one-year-old daughter.

Temporary live-in position for several weeks at a time. Pay negotiable.

Call Sandy Henderson at the below number.

“I can sublet the room temporarily while you stay there,” Julie offers. “It’s a pretty vague offer,” she continues. “I wouldn’t commit until you call and speak to that Sandy woman.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll need to be interviewed,” you agree. “What kind of people are comfortable just leaving their baby for weeks at a time with a perfect stranger?”

“Paul is still out back I think,” she chuckles, “I’ll let you use the wall phone.”

You take a seat at one of the stools at the counter, and she dials the number for you and then passes you the receiver. You mouth a thank you and she waves her hand in dismissal as she heads over to take someone’s order.

“Whaddya want?” the woman on the other end answers abruptly.

“Oh, I’m calling about the ad in the paper regarding the nanny position. Is it still available?”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, hun,” the woman says, now in a much nicer tone. “Thought it was my brother calling. Yes, it is, and we need it filled as soon as possible. When are you available?”

“For an interview?” You ask.

“Yeah,” she says mumbled, like she is dangling a cigarette from her mouth. “Can you come today?”

“Oh, wow. Yes, I can,” you reply.

“Great, um, you got a pen? Take down this address.”

About two hours, a change of clothes and a cab ride later, you were standing outside a house towards the end of town. It was a little run down, but what building in this town wasn’t? You were a little nervous of course, but it was also the most unconventional way you have gotten an interview. Part of you was relieved, because the woman on the phone sounded real, not phony, but the circumstances still made you uneasy. Julie had the address and said you’d call when you got back to the taxi dispatch.

“Welcome, welcome,” Sandy smiled, opening up the door for you. She had one hand on the doorknob and one of the cutest babies you’d ever seen in the other. “Come on in, make yourself comfortable.”

“Who is this?” you coo, leaning down to the baby’s eye level. “She’s darling.”

“This little sweetheart is Valerie,” Sandy smiles, passing the baby to you. “She’s so well-behaved. Hardly ever cries.”

“She’s adorable,” you smile, as the baby cuddles up close, resting her head on your shoulder. “I didn’t properly introduce myself on the phone. (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I’m Sandy,” she introduces herself. “Please take a seat on the couch, get comfortable. I hate things that are so formal. Bleh.”

You take a seat on the couch, and readjust the little girl in your arms so she’s sitting on your lap and her back is resting against you so she is supported.

“So, my husband and I are on the road a lot, usually,” she begins, “We took some time off when we had Valerie, but we really need to start working again, you understand.”

“Of course, what do you both do?” you ask politely.

“We’re photographers,” she beams, “Mostly nature and landmarks- which reminds me! We have a darkroom in the house, but that door will be locked when you’re staying here. We don’t want any damage to any of the negatives we have stored in there you understand. Everywhere else in the house is yours to explore! And of course we gotta spare bedroom you can call your own.”

“Fair enough,” you joke.

“So, tell me about yourself, honey,” she smiles, crossing her legs in the armchair where she sat.

“Well, I just moved here a few weeks ago actually,” you begin, “I just recently finished school, and now I’m looking for work. I just got my degree in early childcare from the state college.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she says with a clap of her hands. “So, you’re local?”

“Yes, I live in town.”

“Excellent! We’d also love for this to be like an on-call thing as well, you know for date nights and things like that for times when we’re home. Like for a few hours here and there. And of course, we’ll always live money for groceries or whatever you need on top of your pay for emergencies incase Valerie needs formula or diapers or anything.”

“Perfect,” you smile, surprised how well the conversation was going. Sandy was easy-going and nice to talk to. The two of you sat and talked for a little under an hour, her asking all the standard questions you anticipated. You also were able to ask her some more of your own questions as well. It was the most effortless interview you had been on easily.

“I’m sorry you weren’t able to meet Carl today,” she says when she is showing you out. “But hun, I feel confident to offer you the job. We haven’t had many applicants and you’re the most qualified one I’ve spoken to. The job is yours if you want it?”

“When can I start?” you smile, making her laugh.

“Your number is on the resume, right?” she says, scooping up the baby. You nod, waving goodbye to the baby and then saying goodbye to Sandy.

“I’ll call you when I speak to Carl, but I think once he knows he’ll want to head out as soon as we can. Plan for Sunday,” she says as you get into the cab.

Just like she had promised, you get a call from Sandy on Saturday afternoon asking you to show up the next morning at 9. You spend the day packing up your clothes and anything else you’d need for a few weeks. Sandy said they’d be back in two weeks but you pack for three just in case. Julie was also nice enough to help you. You didn’t need to do much. Ever since you had settled in Knockemstiff, you had been pretty lazy with unpacking and for once procrastination played out in your favor.

Julie insisted on taking you out to celebrate that night before starting your job tomorrow. There was a small little bar, a little shack of a place just on the outside of town you went to. Julie had a car and you drove, anticipating she’d have a lot more to drink than you. It was a hotter summer night, so you drove with the windows down and the radio playing a little louder than you normally would.

The outside was decorated with string lights of primary colors and the wooden awning looked like it was one more storm away from collapsing. But the atmosphere inside was to die for. The jukebox was playing loud dance music, and the place was crowded. Empty recycled glasses lined the walls on a high shelf as decoration along with weathered posters of anything Americana. A row of motorcycles and trucks were parked outside the little place and it looked like a pileup from how crowded the lot was. People lingered outside as well, and you both hoped you’d find seats inside.

The two of you found a high-top table and Julie made her way up to the bar, skillfully maneuvering through the crowd to grab you both some drinks. You let your eyes wandering, surveying the room and just people watching. Couples were dancing closely to the music that was rattling the jukebox, and a group of people were sitting at the bar huddles in to watch the little black and white portable television. You also noticed a group of men in uniform several tables down, local police. They weren’t paying any attention to anyone but their own conversation, except one.

He just so happened to have looked up just as your eyes landed on their table. Steel blue eyes cutting across everything and just staring right back into yours. It was a fraction of a second and his gaze was broken by Julie taking her seat across from you. You cleared your throat, and finally allowed yourself to exhale. You felt her raise an eyebrow at you but she didn’t press, just gave you a knowing smirk you brushed off. You still felt his gaze on you even if your view was now obstructed.

Sandy and Carl were in a rush when you arrived in the morning. Sandy ran you through the details of where everything was kept and told you that she would call to check in when she could when they made stopped. She helped you carry your bags in from the trunk of the taxi while Carl packed their bags in their car. He was polite enough, but you felt in your gut to just keep your distance. Sandy led you upstairs to the guest room she told you she worked to clean out for you. It was simple, a bed and a dresser with a small closet. She said it mostly had been storage and her weekend project had been clearing it out for you. It was simple, but good enough for you for sure. You thanked her and she dismissed it saying you were the one doing her a favor, making you laugh.

The whole ordeal was very hurried. Carl was rushing to get on the road as soon as possible and you could tell he was clearly irritated at how long Sandy was taking showing you around and explaining things about Valerie. Carrying the baby in your arms, you finally were settled in to your new role and Sandy gave one more big hug and a kiss on Valerie’s head before rushing down to the car. You waved to the pair of them from the small front porch, Sandy looking back and waving to the baby from the passenger seat until they were out of your line of vision.

The first day was a little daunting. New space, living in a house that isn’t yours and a baby babbling in your arms. She was a sweet thing, and she already had taken a liking to you. Heading over to her nursery, you saw that she had a little play pen folded up in the corner of the nursery and you quickly set it up in your room so you could unpack while keeping an eye on her. She babbled just happy utter nonsense to you while you navigated around the space and her big eyes just followed you, just watching you was entertaining for her for now. You were a new face and she was entertained just by that for now.

A few hours later, Valerie had settled down for a nap in the early afternoon. She was sleeping soundly in her crib and you were getting formula ready for when she woke up. It was quiet, the only noise in the house was the small sounds of your own rustling in the kitchen. You wondered when you would hear from Sandy, if it would be later tonight or in a couple of days. You just were lost in your own thoughts when you were startled by a loud knocking on the door. Instantly, Valerie began to cry. You wiped your hands quickly on the skirt of your dress before grabbing her. You rested her on your hip and rocked her gently, shushing her to calm down while you went to grab the door.

The first thing your eyes saw were the same blue eyes who was looking at you at the bar last night. The man’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked really confused. He had one hand rested on his hip and the other against the doorframe, but he stood up straight when he saw it wasn’t who he expected. Your eyes then went down to the shiny Sheriff’s Badge fixed in place on his uniform.

“Who are you?” he asks abruptly. “Where’s Sandy?”

“Sandy and Carl left this morning,” you explain, not sure if he recognizes you. “I’m their nanny.”

He laughs and shakes his head as he looks down, almost like he doesn’t believe you, or he just doesn’t believe the situation. “Carl? Carl Henderson hired a nanny?” he scoffs and you nod, holding Valerie a little closer. The little girl rubs her eyes and yawns, when her eyes flutter open, she looks at the stranger in the doorway and immediately reaches out to signal she wants to be held by him. You ignore her resistance to wanting to be in your arms until you get more information about why the Sheriff is at their doorstep, though she obviously knows him.

“I’m Sandy’s brother,” he explains, “Did she say when they were coming back?” He doesn’t try to hold the baby yet, just holds out one of his fingers and her little hand holds onto it tightly.

“Two weeks.”

“They hire a complete stranger to watch my niece and live in their house unsupervised while they drive around?” he scoffs, shaking his head again in disbelief.

“I’m more than qualified…”

“It’s not a jab at you, sweetheart,” the man tries to explain, “More so a reflection on my sister and her husband is all. They are… fairly selfish people and I wished this situation surprises me more than it does.”

“Should I tell her you came by when she calls?” you ask.

“If she calls,” the man chuckles, “Sure, let her know Lee stopped by to visit.”

“You don’t think she will?” you ask, tilting your head.

“We’ll see,” Lee shrugs, “Do I know you from somewhere?” He rests his arm back up on the doorframe and looks down to the baby again, extending out his free hand to her again and scrunching her cheeks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, not wanting to admit you remembered seeing him last night. He purses his lips together and nods, not pressing further. He pushes off from the doorframe and puts his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Must’ve been in a dream then,” he smirks, and you feel your cheeks flush. He walks down the steps and back towards his cop car. “What did you say your name was?” he asks, turning back around.

“I didn’t,” you chuckle.

“Hmm,” he nods, and raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to fill in the blank. You tell him your name and he repeats it back to you like he’s thinking about it, trying it out to see how it sounds.

“Well,” he says, standing behind the open driver’s door, “Good luck, and I hope Sandy proves me wrong. Let me know if she calls.”

Taglist: 

@adelaide-walker @thedepressolit @samanthadegaro​ 

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #the devil all the time #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan characters #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker fluff #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan imagine #x reader #fluff #smut #nanny!reader #x f!reader #found family

[alltooreid]

I Think He Knows

Y/N has a huge crush on Spencer Reid, so huge she embarrasses herself every time she tries to talk to him. She is convinced he is aware to all her pathetic attempts at flirting and just chooses to ignore it, but turns out Spencer may be a little more clueless than she thought.

A/N: Hope yall enjoy this cute fluffy fic! I’ve been having a rough couple of days so writing a fun fluff like this was really comforting :) yes it is inspired by the t swift song, but you don’t need to know the song to read and enjoy! also my requests are open so let me know what you want to see! (also sorry if this is kind of short, but i’ve been super busy and wanted to put something out :)))

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Type: a cute pining fluff fic

Word Count: 2.3K

Content Warnings: mentions of alcohol, otherwise none.

“He got that boyish look that I like in a man I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans It's like I'm seventeen, nobody understands No one understands”

“He has to know Penelope, I’m not exactly subtle.”

You and Penelope spent the majority of your lunch breaks in her office, discussing anything and everything. Recently however, the point of contention had been a certain young genius. One who you had a huge crush on.

“Spencer Reid may be a genius, and one of the best profilers I have ever seen but he most certainly does not know,” she said, as she drizzled more dressing on her salad.

“He has to, it feels like everyone knows. . . Do you think everyone knows?”

She shrugged, “They might, I know my Chocolate Thunder hasn’t picked up on it yet.”

“You haven’t told him? It’s already been a week since I’ve told you! How did you keep it a secret for so long?”

“You asked me very nicely not to tell anyone! Plus this one seems really important to you. I don’t want to go around telling people and for Reid to hear it in office gossip.”

You smiled, “Well you Penelope Garcia are the best, best friend ever.”

“You know it, now I know you desperately want to repay me for my services, and you can by giving me those exact ranch packets you have in your bag,” she said.

“They’re all yours, now let’s discuss something other than my pathetic schoolgirl crush. Like how stupid Kevin’s sweater was today.”

“Kevin? The other internal affairs technical analyst? Yeah what the heck was he wearing?”

“You know, I’m tired of having to carry the weight of the brains, looks and fashion sense out of the two of us,” you said. “Though, that is a good way to gather attention . . . I wonder if Spencer would actually hold a conversation with me if I wore something as ugly as that.”

She laughed, “You know I think that might send you backwards.”

You stabbed your lettuce, “At this point I’ll try anything.”

Before Penelope could respond, someone interrupted your lunch, your only other friend on the BAU team, Emily Prentiss.

“Oh hi Y/N! How are you!”

“I’m good Emily, what kind of gross things are you here to deliver today?” you and Emily joined the FBI at around the same time, and found comfort in the fact that you were both total try-hards. Emily was going to eat lunch with you and your fast friend Penelope, at least on days when she was in the office for lunch, but you and her both agreed that she should eat lunch with the team so that they can get used to having her around.

“Just some paperwork, no cases yet, knock on wood. Also I just wanted to say hello! What are you guys eating?” she asked, pulling up a chair.

“Some salads from that takeout veggie place PG is always talking about. I told you I was going vegetarian right?” “You did not! That’s great Y/N! We need to talk more, like we used to when we first started here,” she sighed, then perked up, “We should have girls night! Remember how fun it was that night at the bar? With Brad the real FBI agent?”

“Yes! We should! You know, Gideon’s replacement comes tomorrow, we should celebrate!” Garcia said.

“You know, I don’t know if the best way to celebrate a new agent is by drinking without them, but I’m down. We’ll toast our girls night to agent Rossi. Someone ask JJ if she’s busy.”

JJ was not busy, but when you and Emily asked, Morgan overheard.

“So am I not invited to the party?”

“Well it was supposed to be girls night . . . but I think PG would throw a fit if I turned down her 2nd favorite person in this building, so I guess you can come,” you teased. “You should come too Spencer!”

“I don’t know, that’s not really my thing . . “

“Oh come on! I know I would love to see you there,” you then realized that you were embarrassing yourself being so forward. “And I’m sure everyone else would too!”

“Alright, I’ll come, but I’m not drinking.” he said firmly. 

Before you could respond, Penelope magically appeared. “Good, you can be completely sober when Y/N gets wasted and embarrasses herself,” she said.

“PENELOPE! I’m not the light weight here! you’ll see Spencer, she’s actually awful. Two shots in and she’ll be on the floor,” this was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Spencer grimaced. “But it’ll be so much fun! You have to be there! You already said yes!”

“I just don’t know if seeing all of my coworkers get drunk while I watch is my idea of a fun evening. . .”

“Trust me! I’ll even stay sober with you, so we can judge them together. It’ll be a blast.”

“Ok, I’ll be there . . . but for now I need more coffee,” he pulled his chair out and walked towards the office kitchen. You silently cheered, forgetting how people were still standing around you.

“Well,” you awkwardly laughed, “um, I guess I better be getting back to my neck of the woods. I’m not a hot shot profiler like the rest of you guys . . . so see you all later!” You tried to escape before anyone interrogated you about your conversation with Spencer. However, a certain profiler followed quickly behind you. 

“So. . . you and pretty boy huh?”

“Shut it Morgan.”

{⋅. ♪ .⋅}

You stayed true to your word that night, Spencer stuck to water and you enjoyed a diet soda. The bartender, who you had grown fairly used to seeing on your many nights out, was shocked to hear you didn’t want any alcohol in it. 

It’s probably a good thing that you didn’t drink, you already embarrassed yourself enough in front of Spencer fully sober.

“So Spencer, you know that new bookstore you said you were going to go to after work a couple weeks ago?”

“New bookstore . . .? Oh yeah! What about it?”

“Well after I heard you talking about it I decided to check it out . . . It’s really nice there! I go like every other night now! We should totally go together sometime.” Luckily, you were sober enough to keep a secret: the fact you were only going so much in the hopes of running into him.

“Oh really? If I’m being honest I wasn’t super impressed with their selection, it was mostly contemporary fiction. And all in English . . . Not really my thing,” when he saw the way your face dropped he quickly changed his tone, “but it’s great if that’s your thing!”

This. Is. Humiliating. The amount of times you had gone and bought books from the bookstore, you were there almost every night hoping to run into him after work and start a conversation. You felt stupid, of course he wouldn’t want to go on a book store date with you. If Spencer Reid didn’t like you so much that he wouldn’t even go to a bookstore with you, there’s no chance at a relationship.

“Oh haha, yeah you’re right it’s totally lame. . .”

“Didn’t you just say you went there all the time?”

“No! When did I say that? You must be drinking Dr. Reid,” you said, quickly hopping off your bar stool, and running towards Morgan and Garcia, not turning around to see how confused Spencer was, but only being able to imagine him as relieved. Relieved he didn’t have to make conversation with you anymore.

“I’m blowing this PG, he totally hates me.”

Morgan laughed, “Y/N, you’re acting silly, this isn’t high school, we aren’t seventeen, stop dancing around it and just go ask him out.”

“Morgan, he doesn’t want to go to a bookstore with me, no way he’s agreeing to a date.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down, maybe he’s just not in the mood to go?”

“You go ask him then, 20 bucks he says yes.”

“You’re on Y/N/N.”

7 minutes later Morgan returned and without a word pulled a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet and deposited it into your hand. “Sorry, Y/N.”

Penelope then piped up, “I’m telling you Y/N, he just doesn’t know. That boy is clueless.”

You scoffed, “I think he knows Penelope. I’ve made it pretty clear.”

“Have you told him?”

You were thrown off, “Um, no but-”

“Well then you haven’t made it clear enough, have you sugar?”

You almost said something, but you couldn’t really think of a good rebuttal for the argument. So instead, you downed Penelope’s half dranken frozen margarita, and headed back over to Spencer.

“Hey!” he said as you made your way back over, “I was wondering where you went, after you left Derek came over and asked to go to that bookstore with me, isn’t that extraordinary. . .”

“Do you wanna go on a date with me?” you blurted out.

“What?”

You sighed, “I’ve had a crush on you since like, forever, and I keep planning all these ways to ask you subtly but it’s just not working so I’m asking now. Do you want to go on a date with me?”

“You like me? I didn’t know that . . .”

“You’re joking.”

“No, I’m not, I thought you were just being nice. You’re nice to everyone and I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

You smirked, “Get your hopes up? Does that mean you’re obsessed with me too Dr. Reid?”

He laughed in response, “Yeah, you could definitely say that.”

You dug through your purse and pulled out your keys, “Ok, then let’s get out of here.”

He paled, “And do what?”

“We’re going on our first date.”

He smiled, and you both got up off your bar stools and headed out the door, ignoring Morgan’s snide remarks as you passed. 

{⋅. ♪ .⋅}

You couldn’t help but smile as you drove. Every couple of seconds you couldn’t help but look over at Spencer, getting lost in his brownish hazel eyes, which looked indigo in the night. He would smile, the kind of smile people write silly little romance songs about and spend verses to describe, and tell you to pay attention to the road before you run off of it. You would laugh, tell him to calm down. Although originally you had an idea of where you were going, now you just wanted to drive in circles, to bask in this memory. 

“So where are we going?” he asked.

“Think about it Doctor Reid . . .” you replied, teasing him in the way you’ve imagined since you met him. 

You pulled up to that little bookstore on 16th avenue, the one you couldn’t stop going to out of the sheer chance Spencer might be there, the one that was obviously closed this late at night, but was too perfect not to spend your first date at. 

“Although this is beautifully symbolic, it’s almost 2 in the morning, this place closes at 8. We’re 5 hours, 49 minutes and 17 seconds late.”

You smiled and pulled out your ring of keys, “You know, when I spent hours a night hanging around here after work, hoping that you would happen to come shop for books and see me here too, the woman who owns this store got pretty curious. So I told her why I was here, and after she got done laughing at me she offered me a key, so that if I ever had the guts to ask you out, I could take you here no matter what.” You turned the key and swung the door open, gesturing him inside and locking the door behind you, “but we have to keep the lights off, so no one comes by and tries to get in.”

You and Spencer sit in the non-fiction section, and enjoy the silence for a few seconds before you have an idea, “Read me something Reid.”

He reached up, pulling a book off of the shelf without looking, “Are you sure, A Brief History of 1491: Life in America Before Columbus, is first date material?”

“Although that book is anything but brief, anything you read to me will sound stunning coming from your pretty mouth.”

So he begins to read, attempting to slow down to a reasonable pace but still going abnormally fast. You didn’t care though, more than you listened to the history of the late fifteenth century you watched Spencer’s hands. They’re really nice hands.

His right followed the words as he read aloud and his left helped hold the book. He wiggled the fingers on his left hand unconsciously as he spoke, getting into the words of the book. 

After about 25 pages he glanced over at you, and you could almost hear the gears turning in his head. After a second he went back to the page, and continued reading. You didn’t think anything of it until a couple minutes later, when his hand made its way to your left thigh.

He held it and you leaned into him, and you both stayed like that until you fell asleep hours later, with his head resting on top of yours. 

At 8:30 Mrs. Betts, the owner of the bookstore, found you and Spencer, arms around each other, the book thrown aside. She smiled, glad to know you had taken her up on her offer. She went to go wake you up but glanced at her watch. She didn’t have to officially open until 10. 

She could definitely spare a couple of minutes. 

“I want you, bless my soul I ain't gotta tell him I think he knows”

- Thank you for reading! Please reblog and let me know what you think :))

ATR’s tiny taglist: @reidingmelodies​

#spencer reid #Criminal Minds Spencer Reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid one shot #reid #reid fanfic #Criminal Minds Reid #reid fanfiction #reid x reader #reid x y/n #reid x you #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #spencerreidxreader #spencer reid taylor swift #mgg #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds fanfic #taylor swift spencer reid #alltooreid

[krispytidalwavesheep]

Hopes and Dreams III

.I am not entirely sure about this chapter, if I’m completely honest, so I’ll probably rewrite it at a later time. If you want to get added to the taglist just let me know! Thanks for your continuos support with this fic, it honestly gives me so much life right now! *** Chapter 3

“There seem to still be a few things you haven’t seen.” Lady Dimitrescu stated after you reached the sitting room.

“It’s not everyday that you see girls turn into a swarm of bugs. I’ve seen a lot, but I never said I have seen everything.”

“Which brings me to the question that I want answered. What are you? My first guess would be that you are a vampire, like me and my daughters, but I have a feeling that that isn’t true. Sit down please, so that I can take a look at your wound.” Her tone brooked no argument, so you did as you were told and rolled up the leg of your pants. You winced when you saw the true extend of the damage. Even with enhanced healing it would take a few hours to properly heal.

“My biological father was a scientist, who researched a lot of occult and supernatural topics. He was also a massive asshole who thought it okay to experiment on his own baby daughter, so there’s that. I don’t know how, but someone he got his hands on the DNA of some creature no one really has a name for, but I have a guess. The only thing he really knew, was that they are like Vampires, but much more powerful.

He injected me with the DNA when I was four, but nothing happened, so I was deemed a failure. He did all kinds of tests on me, to see if the DNA would activate, but it didn’t. At least not until he tried to kill me. I was no stranger to torture after he failed, but that night I knew he came to finish it. I was 10, and I was scared and angry, so much so, that something in me broke. There wasn’t much left of him after I was finished. 

I’ll spare you most of the details of what happened after, since it is not relevant for what you want to know, and I hate the feeling of being exposed when I don’t know if I can trust the person in front of me. I ran away and my benefactor found me and took me in. I don’t know how, but somehow, he knew what I had become, and he took it upon himself to make sure that I got the best training I could get. I can somewhat use my enhanced abilities, but I am not completely awakened. I’ll get to that part shortly. 

After 6 years I was deemed ready to repay the favor and got sent on a hunt for rare artifacts, as I mentioned earlier. I was free to research my condition whenever the opportunity arose, and I did. I traveled the whole world, met all kinds of creatures and people, yet no one could help me with my predicament. That was until 8 months ago, when I found the first real clue. But that clue came with a price and I have been cursed. 

I still don’t have a name for the creature that I have become, but I found an old text that explained a lot to me. My kind won’t fully awaken until they bond themselves to another being, that has roughly the same power that we have. That’s where the curse made things more complicated: If I try to bond with anyone that isn’t my destined mate, I will die. Slowly and painfully. 

And if that isn’t enough, the curse took the ability to sense my mate away from me, at least in the traditional sense. Usually, we will know our mate by smell alone, for their blood will sing to us like nothing else ever could. We would feel a strong pull towards them, and they to us, for our blood will be just as exquisite to them, as theirs is to us. The curse took that ability away from me, and now I am destined to walk the earth, waiting for my mate to find me. 

Another side effect is what I call ‘boiling blood’. When I feel threatened enough it will activate and temporarily awaken me. I can’t control it though, and that is the problem. It only happened once so far, and that was when someone I care a great deal for, got hurt. But I have it under control for the most part. I just don’t like it when people I care about get hurt, I lost myself even before the curse happened. And I do understand if you deem me to dangerous and kick me out of the castle. You wouldn’t be the first one.” You ended lamely and sighed. It always took a lot out of you when you talked about the past. 

“You mentioned that you have a theory about what exactly you are?” Alcina asked and gently patted your dressed wound. You suppressed the gentle shiver that wanted to roll down your body and said, “I think I am a Vampire, but one of the first generation.”

***

“And what makes you think that?” Alcina asked carefully. You pondered that for a moment, her eyes never leaving you. She could see that it took a toll on you to tell her all that, and she could understand that. Admitting what had happened couldn’t be easy, especially when there was the possibility that you would be thrown out or worse. Alcina didn’t plan on doing either of those things though, and she would tell you soon enough. An idea was forming in her head.

“I read a lot about vampires and had my fair share of encounters, none of them as nice as the one with you, so I figured it must be something like that. Whenever a Vampire turns someone, a miniscule part of their DNA gets implanted in the one they’ve turned. That is why your Maker will always be stronger than you. But since I got way more DNA with fathers’ experiments, it could mean that I am the first person who got turned into a Vampire of the first generation. And if not first, then second, which would still be infinitely more powerful than a Vampire of third or fourth generation. Although I can’t be sure, since I destroyed everything that could give me a clue, when I killed my father.” You said silently, looking at the floor. Alcina couldn’t help but feel pity for you. A bad hand was dealt to you, and you just tried to live your life. She also admired how strong and confident you were, even after all that had happened.

“I have an offer for you.” Alcina said and put two fingers under your chin to make you look at her, ignoring your blush.

“Stay here. You have nowhere else to go, right? You fascinate me and I want to know more about your abilities if you are willing to show me. And I could use a hand to help me in the castle’s upkeep. But make no mistake, my dear. As soon as you show me that you become a threat, I will dispose of you. What do you say?” Alcina asked, but she knew your answer already. She could see it in the softening of your eyes and the spark of hope that flickered in your eyes. You gently nodded and gave her the most brilliant smile she had ever seen. Both of you briefly wondered where that feeling of trust came from, you more than Alcina, but for the moment it was enough.

***

A weird sense of coming home fell over you, when you looked into her eyes, that had gentled with your consent. She could probably kill you with a snap of her fingers, but somehow you got the feeling that she wouldn’t. Most people feared you when you told them what you were, not all of them humans either. But she gave you the feeling of safety, no matter what your nature was, and you wondered. Could she be the one that was fated to be with you? Or was that just wishful thinking, because she showed you kindness where everybody else would only show you fear and hatred? You were immensely attracted to her, that’s for sure, but could she be the one? 

“I want to see the full extend of your abilities as fast as possible if you don’t mind. If it is alright with you, I would arrange a little sparring session between you and my daughters.” Lady Dimitrescu said and took a seat on the chaise lounge in front of you. 

“I wouldn’t mind. It has been far too long since someone has offered me a challenge, so I will gladly accept, my Lady. My wound should be fully healed by tomorrow, so we can start first thing if you’d like,” you offered, eager to show her what you were capable of. Maybe she will keep you around for longer if you show her that you would be a valuable asset to her castle.

“I would like that very much, my dear. But now is time for you to eat and rest, as it is rather late. The day has been rather long and eventful, not just for you.”

“Of course, my Lady,” you smile and as if on cue, the door to the sitting room opened and one of the daughters entered the room with two plates. You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were until the smell of the food hit your nostrils. The two of you ate in companionable silence, and soon enough it was time to leave her presence for the night. 

The guest room she showed you was like nothing you have ever slept in before. You were used to all sorts of places to sleep, but never have you seen a bed so big and comfortable looking.

“Good Night, my dear. I hope you sleep well,” Lady Dimitrescu said and left you to your own devices before you could answer her. You dressed down to your tank top and shorts and fell into a peaceful slumber as soon as your head hit the pillow.

***

When you next opened your eyes, you were surrounded by the familiar darkness of your dreamscape, yet something felt different. You could sense a presence at the edge pf your consciousness and soon enough, a gentle voice spoke to you “So you finally found her.”

“Huh?” you asked into the darkness, chills running down your spine. The voice giggled and a shadow crept into the edge of your vision, which soon turned into a girl, that oddly enough, had somewhat of a resemblance to you.

“Who are you?”

“You’ll have to find that our for yourself. But what matters is, that you have finally found her. My Alcina,” the girl said and looked close to tears, although she was still smiling.

“Don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think that Lady Dimitrescu belongs to anyone.” You said, defensive of the Lady. That made the girl laugh again, and you couldn’t get over the fact that she looked so much like yourself.

“You are right. But she was mine, as I was hers, a long time ago. Listen, the castle’s magic is strong, but not strong enough to give me enough time to explain everything. Just trust me, okay? Stay by her side, no matter what. Protect her. But most important: Take care of yourself. She lost us too many times already, but maybe you are the one that will break this hellish circle.” 

“I-I don’t understand!” you said desperately, trying to reach for the girl, but she was already fading.

“We will speak to each other again when the time is right. Until then, remember my words. Please protect her. Do what we couldn’t do and survive.” Were her parting words before you awoke, drenched in cold sweat. What the fuck was that?

But no matter how hard you tried to grasp at your dream and its implications, you felt your consciousness fading and fell back into a deep slumber.

***** Taglist: @imdreamingblo @x-x-trixxster-k-m-w-x-x

#lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu

[harrypotterbrainworms]

Denial Done (18+)

Summary: very very very spicy polyam fic. (request) 

Pairing: Sirius Black x Remus Lupin x Male Reader

Key: (Y/N)- your name

Word Count: 3387

A/N: i am so sorry. (sorry it took so long too. i feel bad. i wrote most of this VERY drunk. don’t drink kids.)

Sirius shifted uncomfortably in his seat with a disheveled look on his face, both of his boyfriends noticed this of course.

“Sirius… Can you not sit still for 5 fucking minutes while we finish our essays?” Remus sighed laying his face onto the nearly complete parchment, Sirius always ran circles around them while they were working, always.

“Really. We need to finish these before tomorrow, ya know? We have until tonight and if it wasn’t for you and detention we would’ve been done by now” (Y/N) sighed in discontent as well, a look of annoyance and frustration on his face, yet Sirius couldn’t help it. He was always restless, but especially right now.

“Please, Merlin, will you stop doing homework for one second and realise we haven’t had sex in a two weeks. You’re killing me.” He huffed out at his boring, hot, homework obsessed boyfriends. He had probably been hard for days by now, but every time he tried to fix it himself he just couldn’t make himself cum, not like they could.

“You’re killing yourself, Padfoot. If we keep getting full essays for pranks, we’ll never have sex again” He hissed at Sirius, very obviously pissed at how much of a pain in the ass his boyfriend was being. Acting like they had deprived out of pleasure and not out of school necessity, so over dramatic, he thought.

“Can we stop saying sex, I don’t think I can handle hearing that word again” Remus tried to hide the blush forming on his face, he in particular didn’t like to bring up their sex life in any way, especially not in front of the other studying students in the library. Sure it had been 15 days, 17 hours and 30 minutes since they last “made love” and maybe he had been dying for a choice to bring it up again, but not in such a public space.

Sirius pouted and slumped into the chair he was sitting on before crossing his arms dramatically.

“Fine. I’ll be honest. I’ve had the biggest boner of my life for the last 3 days” He huffed looking like a child throwing a fit, looking down at his boner that was politely tucked under belt for the time being.

“PADFOOT. We’re in the library. Keep quiet” Remus whisper shouted at him, giving him a death glare as he checked whether or not anyone had heard him or not.

“I’m sorry if my needs are so much less important than homework” Sirius pouted even harder looking away from them with an angry red face, leaving his boyfriends looking at each other a little awkwardly.

“Homework. That was your fault” Remus mumbled in response first trying to pull his attention away from Sirius’s bulge and back at the stacked parchment.

“Fuck me.” (Y/N) said trying to ignore him as well, but he just kept at it as usual. Trying to push the boundaries of what they would do if he pissed them off enough.

“That’s what I want you to do.” He replied too smuggly only to be met with the cold eyes of (Y/N) grabbing his face, leaving a knot in his stomach and throat. That was the straw he needed.

“You know what, Sirius? Fine.” He pulled his face closer, Sirius being too scared to even breathe anymore.

“What?” He was getting what he wanted, right?

(Y/N) ducked underneath the table with a sigh and started to unzip Sirius’s pants, he immediately knocked his knees up against the table at the sudden contact. Remus went red in the face when he realised what was unfolding, Sirius’s pants….

“Put muffliato on him, quick.” He huffed out to the very shocked Remus. He obeyed and charmed the already moaning Sirius.

“I haven't even touched you yet.” He groaned out, looking at Sirius’s twitching, dripping cock. He wasn’t sure how to feel, frustrated? Horny? Tired of his bullshit?

Sirius tried to say something, probably along the lines of “you’re so hot, just looking at you makes me wanna cum”, but nothing came out.

“This isn’t a good idea… Can’t you wait until we get back to the dorms?” Remus stuttered out nervously as he watched (Y/N) stare intently at the very hard penis in front of him, he may have even felt himself twitch in his own pants… not very convenient. (Y/N) looked at his tented pants and back at him, visibly dismissing his issue by sighing and turning back to the problem at hand.

“No, Remus. This can’t go on, we need to finish our essays and he���s not gonna shut up ‘till then” He waved in his general direction, extending his hand to rub his leg saying ‘later, okay?’. Remus looked a little uncomfortable, but would rather not get on (Y/N) bad side, especially while he was about to suck his boyfriend off.

“I guess.” He nodded and immediately looked at his book, trying to pretend like (Y/N) had just headed to the bathroom and was definitely not under the table.

Sirius just sat there, muffled and impatient. His dick twitching unintentionally at the swallow breath from (Y/N)’s mouth.

“You owe me.” He huffed out giving Sirius’s dick a kiss causing his boyfriend’s leg to shake a little at the anticipation. He slowly moved his face down while staring straight into Sirius’s eyes. The black haired boy bit his lip feeling very impatient, he wanted to push (Y/N)’s head down already, but he’d regret it immediately. Sirius looked like he was begging to speak, so he lifted the charm and let him speak.

“Don’t tease, please.” He pleaded to dead ears as (Y/N) harshly and delicately made sure to brush the head of his dick with every stroke.

“This isn’t a favour, Black. So just shut your face and then you can stop being horny for 5 fucking minutes” He stared through Sirius’s soul with that sending a twitch down his leg.

“Sit still, don’t be a fucking brat.” He groaned, grabbing Sirius’s feet between his thighs. Every time his boyfriend twitched he could just feel his leg rub up against him and for a moment he considered how much he could get away with, what if he just fucked Sirius unconscious under the table these thoughts only fuelling his agonisingly slow stroke.

“Come on, you’ve been depriving me all week.” He pouted in even a hopeful attempt to gain some control back, but was only met with evil horny eyes filled with all the possible things he could think of.

“No, Sirius. We’ve been studying all week and now you’re getting what you want. So you’ll sit still when I tell you, cum when I tell you and shut the fuck up when I tell you, okay?” He kept the same deep stare and deadpanned frustrated face, then grabbed his dick very roughly making Sirius dig his face into the book he was “reading” trying to muffle his moans without the charm.

“A-ah- okay…”

“Great.” He mumbled and pointed to Remus to cast it again. He looked up to the dripping boy in front of him once again, not leaving him a second to get comfortable before grabbing his dick full force. Not letting any moment to breathe with the fast and merciless strokes caused Sirius to involuntarily hit his knees against the table causing a few curious looks towards them.

Sirius felt like he just couldn’t keep up with the pace and rhythm anymore, just convulsing and shaking at every little touch he was given. The minute it looked like Sirius was gonna come, he just stopped dead in his tracks. He only moved on with slower and slower strokes and it never got faster than it was in the beginning which frustrated Sirius to his core. It felt like he would die at this rate, it added a layer of pleasure every time he just couldn’t do anything else, but watch his boyfriend work his magic.

“Wanna cum yet?” He gripped the base of Sirius’s penis pulling any form of pre-cum there was in the shaft making him gasp and keel over his face planted to his desk.

He nodded as well as he could, hoping only Moony and (N/N) could see and hear his muffled screaming at this point.

“Well you can’t.” He said picking up the pace just a little bit in spite trying to bring his boyfriend’s hope up.

He groaned at this response, tears starting to run down his face as he watched Remus shift uncomfortably. He thought he saw Moony rubbing one out over his pants, but was immediately distracted by the fact that (Y/N) had wrapped his mouth around his penis incredibly slowly and looked up at him. He couldn’t anymore, not with his boyfriend now running every part of his mouth up and down his dick. For the first time in the last 30 minutes it finally got faster and he begged and pleaded in muffled words and finally… (Y/N) nodded.

Remus slapped his hand over his mouth as he cum hard in his own pants leaving a small stain on it, the convulsions Sirius was pulled into sending him over the edge. A layer of sweat and tears glistening on his face under the pale candle light, he looked down to (Y/N) who had a long stream of thick cum running down his lips.

“What good boy, huh Moony?” He stared straight through Remus, he sat there shocked and upon seeing where (Y/N)’s eyes were going he removed his own cum covered hand out of his pants.

Remus nodded vigorously at (Y/N) as he watched Sirius convulse a few more times before panting heavily with a spaced out look on his face.

“Clean.” Before the words even left his mouth Sirius started kissing (Y/N) licking any remaining cum on his face with a smile of gratitude. He pointed at Remus’s hand as well leaving Sirius desperately licking up every bit of his cum too, not leaving a drop of anyone’s left.

“Will you disturb us again?” (Y/N) asked as he got up from underneath the table dusting off his knees and taking a cocky stride to his seat again.

Sirius shook his head starting to feel a headache coming on as he could barely tuck his very sensitive dick into his pants. Every little movement of his pants left Sirius feeling like he’d come again.

“Good. Homework?” He turned to Remus who was still looking at his hand in shock, but turned his attention toward with a nod.

“O-Of course” Remus replied and started absentmindedly writing notes and words onto his parchment. Every now and then he looked over to Sirius who still couldn’t hold himself together, everytime he was touched he flinched almost moaning in the process which left Remus harder than he ever imagined he could be.

(Y/N) looked up at Sirius to give a sympathetic look or a kiss on the forehead for being so good during and after the interaction. Leaving his black haired boyfriend very smitten and not at all mad at his still semi-throbbing cock. The days passed on as they always did, thinking about the next time.

Now in the dark room of their dorm, everyone and their mother could hear Remus Lupin pacing up and down the space, mumbling to himself. Nothing in particular just frustrated mumbling.

“Moony, just fucking sleep?!” James groaned with two pillows around his head

“He’s mad that I sucked Sirius’s dick and not his.” (Y/N) sighed pulling himself from the duvet he was hiding in, pulling a wand and book with him.

“You sucked his dick?!” James exclaimed pointing at Sirius who looked like he had folded himself into four different pretzels as he snored through the annoying pitter patter of his boyfriend.

“Yes, James. Keep up”

“I’m not mad or upset. You can suck who’s ever dick you want.” Remus huffed turning to face s corner to stand in alone while he continued his brooding session right in the middle of the common room.

“Remus. Just sleep, okay?” (Y/N) yawned trying his back away from Remus, wrapping himself in blankets in the process.

“Fine. I will. You’ll see.” He said before he could think, stomping off to his bed.

He threw himself onto his bed like an angry child sent to bed without dinner, but, he didn’t realise about an hour into being upset, the shadowy figure enter his four poster bed and closed the curtains.

“I know you’re upset. Do you want me to give you a wank, Remus?” The shadow now being recognised as (Y/N) whispered into his ear.

“N-No. Don’t call it that!” Remus stuttered out, but regretted saying it so loudly.

“Fine, do you want my hand to “make sweet love” to your penis?” (Y/N) dead panned at Remus sarcastically, moving closer to him on the bed until they were a few inches apart.

“Don’t patronise me.” Remus huffed around turning to face away from him, but that only gave (Y/N) access to his neck, leaving kiss after kiss on it.

“You’re doing a pretty good job doing that to yourself.” He stated between kisses.

“No I’m not.”

“Just tell me what you want, Moony.” He sighed and paused his neck exploration, hugging Remus from behind and snuggled his head into his neck.

“I-l- I want-“ He waited for a full sentence as he slowly pushed his hands into Remus’s shirt, making him more nervous.

“Yes?”

“I want you to-“ He felt (Y/N) hands slowly dragging up and down stomach skin, sending shivers down his spine. A small pit forming his stomach as he tried to say the words.

“To do what?” He smiled into Remus’s neck as he continued to kiss him.

“T-Touch me.” He finally said it, but it didn’t seem to be exactly what (Y/N) wanted to hear.

“Come on, Remus. I know you can say full sentences”

“I want you to t-touch m-me” He blurted out in a quick string of words as he felt (Y/N)’s hands falling south of his waist.

“That can be arranged” He said with a smirk, placing his fingers between Remus’s underwear snapping it.

He shiftly whispered a jinx into his ear, Remus feeling his hands pull together behind his back quickly. He looked up at (Y/N) who was usually shorter, but with Remus on his back and his boyfriend on his knees he felt inferior.

“You’re been a brat all day, honey. You didn’t expect me to just give you what you want on a silver platter, did you?” He cocked an eyebrow, pushing his boyfriend’s underwear and pants down, leaving it tangled together at his ankles.

“Of course not.” He huffed, trying his best to get into a semi comfortable position.

“Now, shush. I’m not putting any charms up.”

Remus suppressed a moan slowly escaping his lips as (Y/N) stroked him slowly, keeping a careful pace. He’d been sticking there hard for so long, he didn’t think he could last long.

“Please, god… I just” He huffed out, feeling the knot in his stomach as (Y/N) bent down kissing the light pink scars sticking out from his shirt.

“Speak up, I know you can.” Still kissing and suckling on Remus’s neck,

“I n-need to-“ He moaned as he felt his knees start to buckle from underneath. his toes curling in the process.

“Tell me what you need?” He said impatiently, always so needy and so apprehensive. He stroked faster, trying to pull Remus closer and closer to euphoria.

“I need to cum” He said blankly, a soft moan escaping his lips as he felt (Y/N)’s lips on his jaw.

“Aw? Already? Fine.”

“R-Really?” Remus perked up, a grateful smile on his face as he started to push himself closer to the edge.

“Knock yourself out” (Y/N) yawned a bit, looking as unfazed as he could.

“Thank you!” He was about to cum to the quick pace of (Y/N)’s pace, but before he could even bring himself over to the edge he stopped.

“No-“ He came everywhere, but he felt nothing. Only the lingering feeling that he was supposed to cum being left, he had every symptom of having the biggest orgasm in a while yet the pressure in stomach said otherwise. His legs shook and he was barely able to move where (Y/N) had pulled him to, his ass now in the air and his face buried into the mattress.

“What? Thought I’d let you cum properly yet after you’ve been brooding for days.” (Y/N) said pushing his boner against his boyfriend’s ass teasingly adding a few dry humps sending Remus through the motions again.

Remus moaned at the friction being caused, but immediately got a hand over his mouth which he thanked the lord for when he realised once again his friends were fast asleep around him. His core hurt, the unclenching and clenching of his muscles giving him unbearable cramps.

“P-Please, (Y/N)... This is too much” He twitched upwards, panting heavily.

“You haven’t said your safe word, Moony. If I knew better and I do, you’re enjoying this.”

He brought his boyfriend’s body to his own, Remus trying to cling to (Y/N) for his life.

“So fucking cute.” He said, grabbing the other boy’s face from behind, making him stare into eyes as he snaked his hand around Remus’s penis making him flinch with pleasure and pain.

“Yes” He agreed with him instantly as he moved his other hand to wring his nipple.

“Kiss me, love” He ordered and Remus connected their lips, every sudden fast stroke was a moan into (Y/N)’s mouth. He opened his eyes every few seconds to see a sweaty, blushing and moaning Remus making him want to fuck him right then. His thrusts became sloppy as he breathed a little heavy. He left out a sigh and stopped.

“I’m tired, come ‘ere” He propped himself up on the bedpost and patted his leg, Remus crawled to straddle his boyfriend’s leg and started grinding himself against.

“You can- cum properly this time- as long as you do it here” He said in between kissing and suckling on his neck, Remus nodded enthusiastically as he started to ride (Y/N)’s leg quickly.

“Slow down, love. No rush.” He held down his hips, slowing his movement which drove Remus insane while (Y/N) just brought his body toward him whispering in his ear.

Remus was flushed from ear to ear, his breath hinging every few seconds as he drew closer and closer to his release.

“Do you want to- ah- cum too?” Remus whispered as he was basically hugging (Y/N).

“Are you offering?” (Y/N) asked, rubbing his back comfortingly.

“Yes, Merlin. Yes.” He sighed out defeated as he left (Y/N)’s thigh.

Remus pushed (Y/N)’s underwear down over his dick, watching it spring out. He grabbed one of pillows as he positioned himself to suck him off.

“Merlin, you’re too good to me.” (Y/N) breathed out as Remus put his lips around him. He watched Remus, stroking his hair tiredly as he felt himself coming closer and closer to cumming as well.

Remus bopped his head up and down at an alarming rate making (Y/N) buck his upwards into his throat. He pulled on his hair a bit, Remus humming around him.

“Shit. I’m gonna cum.” He shivered as he felt Remus’s tongue work on his dick.

(Y/N) pushed Remus’s head into him, releasing down his throat. He watched Remus undo too, a few strings of cum spewing onto the bed.

“Good boy.” He breathed out shakily as Remus pulled his mouth off (Y/N). He smiled tiredly and (Y/N) kissed forehead lightly, ruffling his hair as he helped Remus clean up and tucked in bed. He yawned and stretched his arms out, heading to his own bed.

“You guys are so hot.” He heard Sirius whisper from his bed, he was probably listening the entire time.

“You’re a slut, you know that. Could’ve joined us” He sighed and climbed into bed.

#Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #remus x male reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin x male reader #remus lupin imagine #wolfstar #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar x male reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x male reader #the marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #remus lupin smut #sirius black smut #hehe #>3k #smut #young!sirius black #Young!Remus Lupin

[weasleylangs]

crossed wires - g.w

Pairing: George x Fem!Reader, Platonic Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: George has always felt second best to Fred. He’s never blamed Fred, of course, but the jealousy is getting to be too much when he’s convinced the girl of his dreams is in love with his twin.  Warnings: Miscommunication, jealousy, swearing Word Count: 3k

A/N: Oh look it’s Fae who can’t go three fics without writing friends to lovers with miscommunication wah. I combined two requests I got so I hope both of the anons enjoy it!! Also thank you to the lovely Zahra who once again helped me with a title <3

taglist: @amourtentiaa @whizboingies @harrysweasleys @lumos-barnes @weelittleweasley @freds-slut @starlightweasley @weasleyclaw @spacexcowgirl @lumosandnoxwriting​ @peroxide-prinxcesss (sorry your tag isnt working D:)

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

It was a nice, warm spring day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and as usual, George finds Y/N sitting by the lake with a muggle book in her hand. Her usual weekend plan was simple, all she ever wanted to do was read, catching up on the story she’d left behind the weekend before.

It was one of the things George loved about her, that she was always able to sneak a book in somewhere and lose herself in the pages no matter what chaos was going on at the time. He stood a bit behind her, admiring her for a brief moment. Her hair was pulled up into space buns, loose pieces of hair falling and framing her face as she shook her head to move them out of her sight. She was curled up on a blanket she’d dragged down from Gryffindor tower and she was leaning against the tree right at the shore of the lake.

“Oi, Y/L/N!” George yelled and while he immediately regretted disturbing her, the cute look on her face she gave him for interrupting it made his heart swoon. “What do you want, Weasley?” 

She squints as if she’s trying to work out which twin is standing there but they both know she hasn’t mixed the twins up since she was 12. “Wanted your attention, as always.” He winks and Y/N hides behind her book in hopes he doesn’t see the shy look that overtakes her face. They’ve been friends for seven years, but George’s relentless and joke flirting never fails to make her face warm.

“Have you heard about Lee and Alicia?” George says, sitting down next to the girl and Y/N sighs, accepting she isn’t going to get any further into her book right now. “Did Alicia reject him?” The boy shakes his head as he chuckles. 

“Quite the opposite really. Thought she was going to cry of happiness when he’d asked her to Hogsmeade today.”

Y/N ponders his words. Lee and Alicia have always been a hard pair to pinpoint. One second they were flirting and annoying everyone with their public displays of affection and the next they were fighting over something stupid. “Hopefully this stops them bickering over my bacon and eggs in the morning,” Y/N mutters as she closes her book. 

She’s acutely aware that everyone in their year is starting to seriously pair up. Fred and Angelina had gone to the Yule Ball together the year before, she knows for a fact Roger Davis plans on asking Patricia Stimpson out sometime this week and with Lee and Alicia seemingly confirming their relationship she gets uneasy. 

“How do people do it?” She asks no one in particular, “I’m so scared of rejection I could never just ask someone out.” George knows how she feels, after all, he’s been wanting to ask out the girl in front of him for weeks, months maybe even years at this point. But he’s always been convinced no one sees him outside of the duo that is Fred and George, nothing more than a star quidditch player alongside his brother, a pranking prodigy alongside his brother.

“I don’t know, I barely mustered up the courage to ask you to the Yule Ball last year,” they both chuckle at the memory of George stumbling over his words as he asked Y/N to the ball ‘as a friend’, although George never admitted it to anyone, he so desperately wanted it to be more than friends. 

“I want to tell the boy I like that I like him but…” She trails off and George wonders why she’s being so coy. “I don’t know how to go about it.”

George thinks for a moment, thoroughly convinced Y/N is asking him because he’s positive she’s been crushing on Fred since their fifth year. 

“Well…” He pauses. Or should he tell her how Fred would like to be confessed to? “Something extravagant, of course. A grand gesture,” he laughs awkwardly and he knows Y/N isn’t fully convinced by the way she looks at him but she hums in agreement nonetheless. 

“Really? I wouldn’t have pegged you for a grand gesture romance kind of boy, Georgie…” She trails off and George resists the urge to tell her he actually told her how Fred would like to be confessed too, but before he knows it, she’s standing. “I have to go meet Angie, I’ll see you late George.”

-

George has been sulking all day at this point that not even a prank on Filch can get him to smile. Fred and Lee have been pestering him all day to ‘fess up what’s bothering him but he refuses to budge. He knows that if he even hints at what’s bothering him, Fred will reject Y/N and while he wants nothing more than to be the one she confesses to, he doesn’t wish the embarrassment of rejection on her.

“I think Georgie’s got girl problems,” Lee says, nudging Fred and puckering his lips as if to kiss him. Fred laughs and shoves Lee away, teasing him with a threat to tell Alicia he’s moving onto a Weasley brother but stops when he realises George isn’t laughing alongside them. “Wait, is it a girl problem, Georgie?” 

George can’t meet Fred’s eye for the first time in his life, but he knows he can never keep anything from his twin flame. “Yeah, it is.” The boys beside him whoop and holler, teasingly saying Georgie’s got a crush before they sit down on the couch in front of him. “What’s wrong, then? She rejected you?” 

George sighs, “No, no… I’m just positive she likes someone else.” Lee scoffs at this. “As if, you’re George Weasley, mate.” George laughs at Lee’s comment, knowing Lee is being completely honest. 

“Well, even if I am George Weasley, I’m just pretty sure she likes a different Weasley,” George says, not being able to meet Fred’s eye. George, admittedly, has no reasoning for believing Y/N likes Fred, it’s just always been the case. He’s never blamed Fred for this though, Fred has always just been the more noticed twin due to the fact he’s more exuberant and honestly, it never bothered him. 

Until now. 

- 

It’s two days later when Y/N drags Fred by his robes into an empty corridor. George hasn’t even looked in Y/N’s direction since their talk about crushes and she’s starting to get fed up, and what better place to get insider information than from his twin brother who doubles as his best friend.

“Geeze, woman, what is your problem?” Fred asks, fixing his robes that have now fallen off his shoulders. “What’s going on with George?” she demands.

Fred looks at her confused, having not noticed anything different going on with George beside his obvious sulking over a girl but he knows better than to mention anything like that to Y/N. Unlike George, Y/N was very happy to spill the beans regarding her raging crush on George to his twin brother and Fred’s been subtly trying to get them together ever since. When he asked Angelina to the ball last year, he purposely did it in front of both George and Y/N in hopes to inspire George to ask her to the ball himself and he can only hope that Lee and Alicia finally making it official could serve as some inspiration for his oblivious best friends. 

But now George has a crush on a girl, and while Fred hopes with everything he has that it’s on Y/N but he can’t be sure. 

“I haven’t noticed anything wrong with George,” Fred says, hoping Y/N doesn’t pick up on the lie. “We’ve been working on shop business, maybe he’s just busy?” 

Y/N pouts at this, wondering what she’d done for George to only act weird around herself. She plays with the ends of the sleeves of her robe as she thinks back to their last conversation, “I think I made him uncomfortable.” 

Fred cocks his head in confusion. George’s best friend beside himself and Lee has always been Y/N, and Fred thinks there’s not a thing in the world she could do that would make George upset, but before he can question her, she speaks again. “I mentioned I wanted to tell the boy I like that I like him but I think… I think maybe he realised I liked him and he’s backing away so my feelings go away.” 

Fred notices the tears starting to fill Y/N’s eyes and he quickly pulls her into a comforting hug. “Love, I don’t think that’s the case. George is dumb, but he’s not cruel.” He gently runs his hand through her hair as a comfort, knowing it calms her down. “Maybe… He likes you back, and he thinks you were talking about someone else?” 

Y/N ponders his words for a second, genuinely considering it. There’s a chance Fred is right, after all, he knows George better than he knows himself sometimes but Y/N is refusing to get her hopes up. “

What the pair don’t realise is that George has been looking for Fred for the last 10 minutes, after he was late to their meeting at the library to work out the kinks in their Skiving Snackboxes treats when he spots them. 

They’re still hugging but George is far enough to not be able to hear anything they’re saying and his heart sinks. He knew Y/N liked Fred and to him, the image in front of him is confirmation he’ll always be second best, even to his number one girl. 

He clears his throat as he gets closer and they jump apart, Y/N not being able to meet his eye makes his heart sink so he looks away, barely acknowledging her presence. “You’re late, come on Fred.” He’s blunt and both Y/N and George feel terrible at this moment. Fred senses the tension, quickly composing himself and bidding Y/N goodbye and grabbing George by the shoulder to leave. “What is your problem, mate?” 

George makes a noise that’s between a grunt and a ‘shut up’ as he quickly walks to the library, not wanting to confront the current feeling of jealousy rising in his throat. 

- 

George is the furthest thing from being on cloud nine as possible. His new lifetime ban from quidditch has made his already sour mood worse and he feels terrible for anyone who has come into contact with him in the last week. He wants nothing more than to fly out of this school on his broom and never look back while he finally opens the shop with Fred. 

His mood is somehow worsened when Y/N comes through the portrait hole. It’s 11pm and George was hoping he would have the common room to himself so he could sulk in peace and maybe work on some joke products. But she barely even acknowledges his presence on the couch, taking a quick glance at him and looking away and rushing up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. 

The sinking feeling in George’s stomach is back, as it always is when he sees Y/N these days. He’s convinced someone worked out his crush on her and told her, and that her only response to that was to blatantly ignore him. He can’t talk, he knows he can’t. He’s done his fair share of ignoring Y/N over the past week but he didn’t think he was being as obvious as her. 

He doesn’t realise how long he’s been sitting in the common room, furrowing his eyebrows and contemplating the situation until Fred waltzes down the boys' dormitory stairs, sleep in his eyes and his messy hair sticking up everywhere. “Why the fuck are you still awake, mate?” 

George shrugs. He knows he’s been short lately with Fred too, but it’s not Fred’s fault. Just anything these days brings jealousy to his stomach and he can’t bear the thought of ever being mad at Fred for something out of his control. “Still having girl problems?” George shrugs again. 

“Listen, mate, do you like Y/N?” George is taken aback by Fred’s forwardness and he feels his face heat up and he knows he’s bright red. “No,” he squeaks and the look of smugness on Fred’s face tells him he knows he doesn’t believe him. “Okay, fine, I do.” 

Fred doesn’t know what to do, he never expected to get this far in his line of questioning for George. He knows he shouldn’t tell Y/N’s deepest secret to George but it’s killing them both not being together and thinking they don’t like each other. Fuck it, Fred thinks as the words spill out, “She likes you too, you fucking git.” 

George looks at him, dumbfounded. “No she doesn’t, she likes you.” 

Now it’s Fred’s turn to look at his brother dumbfounded. Not even for a second did he ever consider Y/N would have feelings for him, even before she confessed her feelings towards George to himself. It’s always been Y/N and George in his mind, the sun and the moon, the stars and the planets. He can’t ever imagine Y/N fitting so perfectly with someone than his brother and then he starts to laugh.

“You think Y/N likes me? Are you seriously that daft?” 

George doesn’t appreciate this, his arms crossed protectively across his chest, “Don’t laugh at me. People always chose you.” He’s quiet in his words but Fred’s heart sinks. “Mate, you know that’s not true.” He takes the seat next to George, fully awake at this point. “It is though. And it’s not your fault, don’t worry. People always prefer the more outgoing twin.”

“I don’t.” 

George and Fred’s heads snap up to where the voice came from, spotting Y/N standing on the stairs in an old t-shirt and sleep shorts. She’s picking at the skin on her fingers, the nervousness obvious. “What did you just say?” George asks, timidly.

She walks down the last few stairs, “I said I don’t prefer the more outgoing twin. I’m-” she takes a deep breath as she prepares herself for the confession she didn’t plan on doing- ”quite fond of the shy, only a little bit responsible twin.” Fred is smirking again as he usually is, and quickly leaves the pair in the empty common room. 

“I thought you liked Fred,” George whispers when she takes Fred’s old spot, “I didn’t think I ever had a chance with you.” 

She giggles as she softly takes George’s large, calloused hand in her own and she rubs her thumb soothingly along the back of his hand. “You’ve owned my heart for years, Georgie. I thought I made that obvious last week on the lake.” 

George thinks back to the moment of the lake and everything makes sense. Why she was being so coy when she mentioned confessing to someone and he suddenly feels very dumb. He pulls her hand up to his mouth and kisses her knuckles. He can’t help but feel incredibly overwhelmed, by the emotion they’re both letting out and how beautiful Y/N looks by the warmth of the fire. “You’ve owned mine for years too. How dumb are we?” 

She shakes her head and cups his face in her hands, “We’re not dumb. Just…” she pauses, finding the right words, “Clueless.” She giggles and George realises how badly he’s missed being in her presence. 

“I’m sorry for the last week. I’ve been a right prat, haven't I?” She nods and laughs again. “You have, but this just means you can spend the rest of our lives making it up to me.” She teases and George raises an eyebrow at her. He’s quick to wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her into his lap and shoving his face into her neck.

“The rest of our lives, huh? Getting a bit ahead of ourselves, aren’t we Y/L/N?” He teases, but he’s joking. He’d be perfectly happy spending the rest of his life making up for this past week if it meant spending the rest of his life with the girl in his lap.

“Hey, it’s taken us years to get together, I’m not letting you go now, Georgie.” She winks and George wants nothing more to press his lips to hers.

So that’s what he does. She makes a noise of surprise at first, and he almost pulls away out of fear that this isn’t what she wants. But she’s quick to pull him back to her. The kiss is desperate, years of pent up emotions and pining being communicated through it. 

Both their hearts felt like they were about to beat out of their chests and Y/N couldn’t help but think this was better than she could ever have imagined. George’s lips were slightly chapped, days of chewing on them out of nervousness would do that but it was so distinctly George that she didn’t care. George pressed against her lips harder, making Y/N let out a slight moan that only he could hear and he couldn’t help but smile. 

It was the most perfect first kiss either of them could have ever wished for and when they finally pull apart, Y/N can’t help but admire George. His hair is messy from having her hands run through it, his lips are slightly swollen and his cheeks are flushed red. He looks absolutely breathtaking and Y/N has to resist the urge to pull him into another kiss. 

“Does this mean you're my girlfriend, now?” George questions. Y/N pretends to ponder for a moment, both to lightly tease George and to genuinely contemplate her answer. But she knows in her heart, she wants nothing more than to be George’s and a smile slowly overtakes her face.

“Maybe take me on a date first?” 

#george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley one shot #george weasley imagine #george weasley

[ghoste-catte]

I was curious what advice would you give to someone new to writing fics? I've been wanting to get back into it but haven't seriously written something since high school. I hope this isn't an annoying question or anything!

Not an annoying question at all! I'm just a little worried that I won't have terribly good or useful advice. To be honest, I also sort of stopped writing in earnest right as I finished high school, and didn't pick it back up until my late 20s. It's certainly an adjustment! But I think the few things that really helped me get back into writing fic as a hobby and something I spend quite a bit of time on would be:

Write for yourself first, then find your other motivations. My original inspiration in getting back into fic writing was that there just were not that many fics I liked for my favorite pairing, and I wanted more of them, and I especially wanted more with the tropes and characterizations I wanted to see. I think at the very core of anything you need that internal spark that drives you. At the same time, for me at least, if I just relied on my own drive, I would not get much done; I need some external guardrails. So having people send prompts, or writing for particular events, or writing stuff for friends really helps me to get my ass in gear and finish stuff. That may not be the perfect motivator for you, and that's fine! You just gotta figure out what is.

Be open to inspiration. Anything and everything can be spun out into a story with the right tweaking. Obviously stuff like music is a classic inspiration source, but I've also pulled ideas from poetry, from memes, from Reddit threads, from YouTube videos, from rambling conversations on Discord and from real life to make fics out of. So many times, someone will post a silly Twitter screencap, and I'll think, There's a fic in this. And a lot of the time, there is! Research is a wonderful thing, but so is serendipity. If you're out there actively looking for ideas, eventually one that you like will stumble past you.

Find your community. I can genuinely say I never would have finished more than one fic if I didn't have fandom friends to talk to about even stupid headcanons, to bounce ideas off of, and to encourage me (and to encourage them in turn!). Discord has been a godsend, and some of my closest online friends are people I met in the GaaLee discord server. As I've gotten more comfortable as a writer, I've also joined general writing servers and Reddit communities and have found them immensely helpful on both a motivational level (bingos, sprints, owe-me challenges) and on a craft level (plot workshopping and writing ethics and live grammar help). It's a lot easier to think about fic ideas and hash through problem moments when I have a constant stream of fandom-related chatter coming from the little people who live in my phone! Ao3 is an amazing website, and it's great as, well, an archive, but it isn't social media by design. If you want conversation and human connection and cheerleading, you've gotta forge out and find it.

Make it a habit ... If you want to produce anything longer than a couple hundred words, you really have to set aside time for it. And writing is just like knitting or dirt biking or painting little model figurines: the more you do it, the more easily it comes. When I was first getting back into the proper swing of things, I committed myself to 30 minutes of writing per week. Just 30 minutes. I didn't even hit that goal every week, but there were tons of weeks I got on a roll and went over that amount, and by the end of the year I'd written over 200,000 words. I used to spend an hour laboriously tip-tapping out 200 words, but now I can easily blow through 1k in a 50 minute sprint. It's all about training that muscle.

... But don't make it a chore. With fanfic, you aren't doing this as a job, and you aren't ultimately doing it for anyone other than you. That means you can take breaks when you need them, you can set deadlines and then fail to meet them, you can write stuff and then decide to never post it. When you start getting burnt out, when the practice loses the joy and energy, stop. There's no 'hustle' here. In our capitalist society we're so trained to push past our limits and keep going even when it hurts us, but the hobby you do for connection and relaxation and whatever else shouldn't be like that.

Ignore metrics. Sometimes stuff isn't gonna get hits, or kudos, or comments. There are some basic 'rules' as to the stuff that does and doesn't get traction, but every time you post something it's a roll of the dice. If you're focused on watching that kudos counter tick up, you will get bummed out fast. And any writer will tell you that the stuff you think is your best work will never be the stuff that gets the most accolades. So you have to find something else to give you a sense of success. For me, it's watching my wordcount go up in my stats and those occasional comments where someone has a lot to say and that one person who always leaves me a <3 emoji (and, shout out to @egregiousderp, having someone to have long one-on-one conversations with about the stuff that never made it to page).

Don't strive for perfection. It's really easy to want your first ever fic to be a complete showstopper, the best fic fandom has ever seen, hitting all the tropes and the ideas and the characterization that you just know fandom is missing and would be everyone's top favorite if only it was written. This is a trap. No one fic can be all things. Most people who want to write an epic as their very first venture will not see the end of that epic, because they haven't put in the practice hours to make something on that scale work. That's not to say you can't start out with a big, sprawling multichap, just don't expect it to be the greatest thing since sliced bread if you're just starting out, and be okay with abandoning it for greener pastures if you get to that point. Think of the first time someone makes a vase out of clay or bakes a loaf of bread. That's never their best vase or their best bread. If they keep up with it, they'll make more and better vases and loaves. Likewise, your first fic is probably not gonna be your best fic. See it for what it is: your launchpad.

You can't edit an empty page, but you can over-edit a full one. This kind of spins off of #7, but if the words aren't there, you can't fix them. Daydreams and headcanons are fantastic (and god, how many times have I wished for a speech-to-text engine that projected my falling asleep thoughts onto a Google doc for later perusal), but they aren't fic. If you want to write fic, you've gotta get comfortable with the idea of sloppy outlines and rough first drafts. You can't build a house without a frame and you can't build a man without a skeleton (I mean, you can, I guess, but he'd be one floppy man). The nice thing about fic is that it doesn't matter if that frame is structurally unsound or the skeleton has 18 too many bones, you can clean that up in the editing process. But you can't start hanging curtains and arranging furniture in something that doesn't even have walls. That's the process. But! Also know when to set down the editor's pen and say, "Okay, this is good enough for government work", and call it done. ("Done" doesn't have to mean "posted", but it does mean, "I'm done picking at this for now, and I'm gonna go write some more stuff".) Over-editing can make stuff seem laborious and forced, and it prevents you from actually improving. To continue belaboring the house metaphor, you can spend your whole life rearranging furniture in just one room, but the end result of that is a pretty narrow existence and a room with a lot of footprints and tracks in the carpet.

Write shit down. When you have ideas, jot them down--in a notebook, in a Google Doc, in the Notes app of your phone, in pen on the back of your hand. You think you will remember that brilliant line of dialogue or sparkling snippet of narration or genius plot that came to you in a dream, but you Will Not. Write it down. Write it down. Write it down! There have been so many times when a fic was completely saved by past!me having written down my shower thoughts about what happens next in the fic, that present!me had completely forgotten about and was floundering over.

Have fun with it! Try different stuff. Try stupid stuff. Try experimental stuff. Do stuff you've never done before that you aren't sure will work. It's important to get comfortable with your niche (for example, I know I'm never going to be the sort of person who writes intricate plots of intrigue or super long 100k epics or detailed battles), but you can't find that niche unless you explore lots of different niches! Figure out what you love and what you absolutely hate, and then keep doing the stuff you love.

Okay, so that was actually TEN things, but ... I hope you still found this helpful. Feel free to send another ask if any of this was confusing or unclear. Good luck with your fic writing and, if you want, send me a link to what you've written once you've written it! I'd love to read it.

#answered #anonymous #writing advice #i guess? #am i qualified to give this? #no #but im doing it anyway