We Need To Talk

We Need to Talk

Pairing: James McAvoy x reader

Word Count: 904

The Request: Can I have one with James McAvoy where we’re dating and my best friend, Steven, is on a movie with him and after a couple of weeks he starts rumors that I am cheating on James but they’re not true. James believes them and we break up. One day, I am on the set (as a make-up artist) and James hears Steven say that it was all fake and he fights with him and I break them up and at home I clean his wounds and with a lot of fluff?

Warnings: N/A

A/N: Request for @anyfandomimaginex

“Y/n, we need to talk,” James’s voice told you over the phone, and you froze. In your experience, nobody ever used that phrase to say a good thing. Nervously, you replied.

“What is it, James?” you asked, trying to keep your voice level.

“What is it!? You dare ask me that question?” he was very obviously angry, and you didn’t know why. You felt like you were supposed to, though.

“Um... Yes. I don’t understand what your problem is. I’m sorry if I did something wrong, but tell me so I can fix it,” you mumbled into the receiver.

You could hear his scoff even from over the phone.

“You can’t fix this, I’m sorry. Your friend Steven told me that you’ve been cheating on me for a while now, and he has no reason to lie,” you could now hear a broken note in his voice, like he was holding back tears.

“We are over,” he declared and terminated the call. You just sat there, unable to comprehend what had happened, and you dialled James’s number again, hoping for an apology, a chance to let you explain that you were definitely not seeing another man, but he didn’t pick it up.

For the next couple of weeks, neither he nor Steven answered your calls or messages. You were both confused -because why would a man you’d known from school and called himself your best friend would do this to your relationship?- and determined to confront them both when you would be called on set for ‘Welcome to the Punch’, the action movie they were shooting.

When you finally were called on set as a make-up artist, you were relieved. You were finally going to have a chance to talk to James and Steven, demand explanations from the latter and ask the former if you could continue your relationship, because you’d been going strong for some while now and you loved him a lot.

You walked on set, hoping to catch sight of James first, so you could rush up to him and explain your side of the story, but you were unfortunate. Steven was there, and apparently he was waiting for you because he greeted you immediately.

“Oh, hello,” you huffed out a reluctant greeting and glared at him.

“Why so hostile?” Steven asked confidently as if he himself had done nothing wrong.

You were angry; extremely so. After two weeks of being unable to do something about the situation James, you had every right to be mad at the person responsible.

“Are you kidding me? What you told James about was absolutely awful and untrue!” you almost shouted at him.

The idiot just shrugged. “It was just some fun, sheesh. Why are you acting that way? I thought he’d have figured out by himself that you’d never cheat on him. Chill,” he said and you were about to reply with a string of curse words, but you were interrupted by a smooth, Scottish accent.

“Fun? You orchestrated all that for ‘fun’?” asked James’s incredulous voice from behind you. He quickly walked up to where you and Steven were standing and glared at the other man.

“That was unacceptable! You know I can get you fired, right? You’re not even important around here! You’re a waste of money and space,” James half-screamed at Steven. Even he had the good sense to look chastised by James’s fury.

“Do you have any idea what your stupid, moronic antics put both me and Y/n through?” James asked. “Fun,” he scoffed mockingly.

Steven didn’t say a thing to defend himself, but James was still angry. He launched himself at the other man, probably intending to land a punch or two, but Steven was quicker and punched him in the upper arm. You could see a small tear in the fabric of James’s shirt from where Steven’s hand had grabbed on tightly and pulled, and you thought you saw a bit of blood too. Steven was about to kick James when you stepped between them, glaring up at you old best friend and slapping him hard across the face, so hard that there was an angry red mark on his skin.

“Go,” you said authoritatively, and he did. Quickly, you turned to James.

“Let’s go to your hotel room, I can fix you up there and you can get another shirt, okay?” you asked him softly and mutely, he nodded.

The car ride there was silent but, once you were in the safety and silence of his room and you had dressed his small wound from where Steven’s fingernails had scraped his skin, he kissed you. Just like that, and out of the blue. You didn’t complain, instead kissing him back.

“I’m so sorry for believing that moron. It’s just... I thought he was your friend, and I didn’t think he’d be lying,” he sighed and grabbed hold of your hand.

“Will you forgive me for being stupid?” he asked, looking at you apologetically with his angelic blue eyes wide.

“I’ve already forgiven you,” you muttered in response, kissing him again. “I love you, and you know that,” you said with a soft smile.

“Me too,” he replied happily and hugged you tightly. “Thank you,” he said, “And I’m sorry for everything I put you through by refusing to listen,” he added.

“It’s all right, James,” you mumbled, kissing him. “I can’t stay mad at you for long.”

Being a writer

IDEA

*thinks of a whole mystery plot while in the shower*

I like that synonym, ohhh but I like that one too.

“It’s just a draft” I say to hide the fact that I suck and this is the best I can do

What’s another word for ‘said’?

Argh I can’t spell

Their tongues battled for dominance…

DON’T BREAK MY CONCENTRATION

You broke it.

And then she…and then she…

I’m so hungry

I’m so tired

I’m so horny

I’m just going to write about my OTP and change their names.

I’m so proud of this! *a week later* wtf did I actually write this shit this is terrible what was I thinking just ugghh

I just need to change one more thing…or 80.

FUCK EVERYTHING

*writes for 5 minutes* *block*

If Stephenie Meyer can publish, so can I.

This is it! I’m going to turn it into a book. No really, this one’s better than the last one.

My book’s so gonna be a movie/TV series, so I may as well plan ahead and pick my cast.

Why are they always fictional??

*mind wanders*

“What’re reading?” Ummm a book…that’s online. NO you can’t see it.

Nothing rhymes with orange? Challenge accepted.

I’M A FAILUURRREE

It’s just a short story, won’t take me long *seven hours, 30 energy drinks and 10,000 words later*

WHAT’S THE POINT?!

*mind continues to wander*

“What’s lemon?” *sweats*

Another rejection? Perfect! Harry Potter was rejected thirteen times. I’m on my way.

FOR FUCK’S SAKE IT’S EITHER THERE, THEIR, OR THEY ARE.

No, I didn’t use rhymzone.com. I’m insulted by your accusations.

I want Emma Watson to play my character.

And Tom Felton to be her love interest.

How do you write smut?

What’s another word for ‘and then’?

OMFG I’M SO INSPIRED RIGHT NOW MAYBE I SHOULD WRITE THIS DOWN

I’ll write it later, I’ll definitely remember it.

What’s another word for ‘suddenly’?

SMELL THIS BOOK. SMELL ITTT.

Wasn’t there something I was supposed to remember to write?

Ugh I give up

IDEA!

Bookstores always remind me that there are good things in this world.

Vincent van Gogh (via vincentvangogh-art)

Despair

Pairing: Gabriel x reader

Word Count: 1,235

Summary: The Apocalypse is approaching and Gabriel visits you. 

Warnings: Spoilers for season five, feels.

A/N: I’d planned on writing something cute, not this. Anyway, enjoy!

You’d known Gabriel for a long time. You’d met him while you were on a crazy hunt -caused by him, of course- which turned out to be the maddest hunt you’d ever been on. He’d transported you to a world much like the one depicted in Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland and had shown up, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, a couple of days and countless agonising deaths later. At first, you hadn’t liked him. And you’d liked him even less when, as his parting words, he’d chosen to reference Alice in Wonderland again and wink, saying ‘Eat me’ in a tone of voice heavily laden with innuendo.

No, you hadn’t liked him then. But you’d stumbled across him -or, rather, he’d found you- numerous times after that. And slowly, bit by bit, you got to know him better. You got to see behind his confident, flirty exterior and you started liking him more.

It had been a long time since you had last seen him and, with rumours about the oncoming Apocalypse passing from one hunter’s mouth to the other’s, you always had to remain on your toes; ever vigilant and watchful as you tried to distinguish truth from lie.

It came as a surprise to you when, one day, Gabriel just showed up at the door of your motel room. You had no ongoing case, nothing that could justify his sudden appearance. And yet there he was, flirty smile on his face as he swallowed the last of his candy bar.

“Hello, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ve missed me so terribly much. I definitely have missed you,” he said cheerfully, smiling a grin that brought you back to the first smile he had ever given you; that broad, wonderful grin that seemed more devious and teasing than a genuine smile. Only, this time, he embraced you briefly, showing you exactly how much he actually had missed you.

He then proceeded to push past you and make his way to the bed, where he sat down and continued eating his sweets. For a while, you just stared at each other, your gaze meeting his brown one questioningly.

“What are you doing here?” you said eventually, breaking the perpetual silence of the room. While you were glad to have him there, as you actually had missed him and you liked him a bit too much, his appearance was sudden.

“I’m here to see you. And I brought food,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, as if that explained everything. You raised your own eyebrows incredulously.

“Don’t you have chaos to create somewhere else?” You asked him. “Or have the recent goings-on affected you as well?” You added, kind of jokingly, because you were quite certain that a trickster like Gabe wouldn’t really heed the far-fetched rumours about the Apocalypse.

But his face fell at the mention of that, and he cast his eyes downward. For a moment, he looked broken, torn apart, scared, and then he was okay again, smiling and looking up as if nothing had happened.

“Well, everybody who knows about what’s going on should be concerned. The destruction of the world as we know it could be imminent,” Gabriel said gravely, but his eyes never lost their cheerful glint. “So, you know what we can do to make sure we’re prepared?” he said in a secretive, conspiratorial, tone of voice.

“What?” you asked.

He dropped you a wink. “Sex and food. Lots and lots of sex and eating food to make up for every second in our life that we haven’t been doing one or the other,” he said simply and his tone of voice was so serious that you felt like the laugh you choked out was out of place.

“Gabe. You can’t be telling me that what everyone’s been saying is true. I’m sure it’s just a false alarm,” you said with a shrug.

Gabriel’s serious look returned again then, and he frowned, staring at the long-forgotten and only half-eaten chocolate bar in his hand.

“It’s true,” he said with a sigh.

“How… how do you know?” you asked, somehow believing him. You sat down on the bed next to him and nervously tapped a rhythm with your fingers on your leg.

His hand reached over to cover yours and stop the nervous drumming. At that, you lifted your gaze to meet his, and any doubt you might have had about this whole situation vanished at the pained, fearful look that was still in his eyes.

Everything went downhill from there. Despair fought with fear and chaos tangled with misery to create the perfect cacophony of discord.

“Y/n… I’m not just a trickster. The name Gabriel isn’t just a name. I’m the Gabriel; the archangel Gabriel. And I know that this is really happening; I know that almost all the required seals to start the Apocalypse are broken. There is no escaping this,” he said, his voice pained as his grip on your hand tightened and the desperation in his eyes intensified.

“I don’t know if I’m going to live to see another day. None of us can know. Lucifer could rise tomorrow,” he said, a note of fear in his voice as he spoke.

“Nobody ever knows what life will bring,” you whispered back, unable to do much else other than stare into his eyes. You felt helpless now that you knew that the world was gradually falling apart. Helpless, and drowning; drowning in the world and in his eyes that looked like chocolate and caramel and Gabe.

He leaned forward to brush a tear you hadn’t even realised was falling off your cheek with his thumb, and he didn’t pull away. He was close enough that you could feel his breath -that smelt pleasantly of chocolate and caramel- against your cheeks and lips.

“It’ll be okay,” you muttered under your breath, trying to reassure both yourself and Gabriel with your words. He gave a solemn nod in response. “We can only wait and see,” he replied, and it was your turn to nod.

“Gabriel…” You said helplessly after a while of silence, uttering his name just because you liked the feel of his name rolling off your tongue.

“Y/n,” he was quick to reply, and that was enough to give you the required courage to close the distance between your lips.

The kiss didn’t go as an expected first kiss would. No sparks flew around you; no butterflies fluttered in your stomach and nothing about it was tender and sweet -apart from, perhaps, the lingering taste of sugar and chocolate of his mouth.

It was frantic and anxious and was punctuated by breathy moans and desperate tugging at clothes. It was the kind of kiss that doesn’t satisfy you but only leaves you wanting more and more and oh so much more.

“I love you,” you heard yourself mutter at some point, because now was no time to worry about it being too soon, it was the time to worry about having been too late to say or do something.

Gabriel tugged on your shirt urgently and whispered ‘me too’.

The urgency never left, not even when you lay side by side under the sheets in the bed the following morning, or when you said goodbye three days later.

You never saw him again. That day, a part of you broke. And you somehow knew you’d never get it back.

If you would be so kind as to reblog this if you feel insecure about your writing skills.

All the time….

Harry Potter is like the gateway fandom. You start reading the books, then all of the sudden you have a sonic screwdriver, you want to go to Rivendell, and you have this awkward fascination with Sherlock Holmes. And you don’t really know how any of it happened, but you’re pretty sure it started with Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley of Four Privet Drive who were proud to say that they were perfectly normal thank you very much.