#when in doubt assume everything I'm writing at the moment is

[regallibellbright]

Gotta love almost finishing a long scene and then realizing it has to be rewritten from another perspective entirely.

One with VERY different information than the other POV.

It's the right call, so I'm doing it, but oof.

[kitscutie]

hi! i saw your post about snow omg, can i request a coriolanus x mentor!reader where she’s similar to like clemensia but she’s more close to corio and they have a secret relationship? thank you in advance if you do this rq! love ur tsitp writings sm 🥹

snow and roses: part I (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: first time writing for snow and I'm very excited about it! I've always loved the hunger games and this movie was insane in the best way so please enjoy! I will be making this a series and this is only part one so stay tuned for the rest!

word count: 2.2k

join my taglist here.

"You're going to get it Coryo, don't stress." You soothed the boy as you sat next to him. It was barely even six in the morning and the pair of you had woken up, well he had woken up and you with him as he blatantly needed your support, desperate for the Plinth Prize.

You didn't need the prize, already coming from a wealthy Capitol family and yet you felt the same hope that he would win as you would for yourself, stomach twisting into knots at the thought.

"There's good candidates Y/N, it feels as if the odds are already stacked against me." He sighed, leaning over as he sat so his elbows rested on his knees, head in his hands.

"The odds are in your favour Coryo, you're special. Different." With that he looked at you, a small smile gracing his pale lips. He leaned up kissing you gently, fully embracing the special moment before he got up from his place next to you.

"I'll see you at the Academy?" He asked, knowing you had to leave quickly back to your own house in order to change but also in order to avoid the suspicions of your own family who had no idea of your relationship with Snow.

"Of course." You replied, also standing up and pulling on last nights clothes as you left.

You studied the dark an empty halls of his house, ensuring Grandma'am was nowhere to be seen before you quickly walked to the door, exiting un-noticed until Tigris came around the corner, seemingly equally in a rush and holding a shirt you knew must be for Coriolanus.

"Oh, hello Y/N." She smirked as you both stopped, unsure how to approach the conversation. She was one of the only people who knew something was going on between the pair of you and still she wasn't quite sure what it was.

"Hi Tigris. You look lovely today." You said quietly, feeling like a scolded child even though you hadn't done anything wrong.

"Well if you're here I can only assume Coryo is awake, I'll see you again I assume?" She replied.

"Yes and yes." You answered awkwardly before hurrying away once again, letting out a sigh of relief as you heard her enter the house. You could only hope she wouldn't mention your interaction to Coriolanus.

You walked into the Academy at the same time as you did everyday, conveniently when Coriolanus would also show up.

"Coryo!" You yelled, spotting him across the room. He turned his head to you as though it was a surprise to see you, it wasn't.

"Y/N. What a pleasure." He smiled with his typical Snow charm, allowing you to link your arm with his.

"How are you feeling?" You asked him, thumb gently rubbing his bicep through his shirt. You rounded the corner past the food and yet you both avoided it for different reasons. You having already been fed by your family and their lavish lifestyle and he too nervous to even look at it.

"Never felt better." He replied with false confidence but no one else around you had to know that.

"Snow always lands on top." You teased as you entered the hall, spotting your friends if that's what you could call them stood in the centre of it all, as they usually did, talking about everyone around them no doubt.

"Y/N and Coriolanus, finally some real competition has arrived." Said Arachne, a glass in her hand and a smirk on her face as she always seemed to appear in public.

"Be humble now Arachne, you never know who will be chosen." You smiled, turning on your Capitol attitude in order to fit in. You were Capitol born and raised but your family taught you to be humble and kind. It was clear this wasn't common among parents here.

"Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous." Said Felix, it made you chuckle how he used such a word to describe food.

"Only the vulgar eat with their fingers Felix, daddy not teach you table manners?" Snarled Festus, it was as though there was always a secret competition between the two of them, never quite made clear, never making sense.

"Maybe he would've if he wasn't so busy running the country. Hey they called us here for the Plinth prize right? 'Cause I heard Doctor Gaul's in the building." Felix changed the subject, knowing he had won. It was impossible to lose as the President's son you supposed.

You hadn't noticed but now Felix had mentioned it you took in the strange atmosphere, tense and mystery lingering in the air. "That is peculiar." You said, holding onto Coryo's bicep tighter subconsciously.

"Plinth. Look at his spawn. Who would've thought you could buy your way into the Academy." Felix once again snarled, he was always filled with such anger though it seemed todays anxiety only heightened this.

"Well you can't buy class. Did you see his mothers outfit? Sorry his Ma's." Festus joked, seemingly over his small tiff with Felix.

"Dress a turnip in a ball gown and it'll still beg to be mashed." Said Coriolanus, playing into their pompous ways. You knew he didn't agree, not really.

"Don't do that we all know you like him." Arachne spat with her spider like venom, raising her eyebrows at Coriolanus.

"I don't like him Arachne, I tolerate him. He's district." Said Coriolanus and he seemed pleased with his answer as you felt him relax under your touch. You however did like Sejanus and weren't afraid to show it.

"If I hear one more time how immoral these Hunger Games are I'll put him in the arena mys- Sejanus. You made it to the Reaping for once." Festus cut himself off, caught by Sejanus himself.

"And you made it to graduation Festus, we're both shocked." Sejanus replied and you couldn't help but snicker, hiding it as you realised no one else shared the same reaction. "Y/N, always a pleasure." He smiled at you politely. You couldn't help but note the way Coryo's jaw clenched, neck twitching as he looked at you to gaze your reaction.

"As are you Sejanus." You nodded. Arachne scoffed quickly mentioning the only thing she really cared about, the prize.

"Spill it, who won the prize." She asked.

"Well, no I'm not gonna ruin my father's big day. No one here actually likes him, but they do love his money." He once again hit back at the group around him, you felt sorry for the boy. Alone in a room full of people. "You know what that's like don't you Arachne?" He dug the hole deeper and you internally smirked, grateful someone was brave enough to stand up to a powerful woman like Arachne.

As the Captiol's anthem began to play you made your way to your seats, sat next to Coriolanus you placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered 'good luck' in his ear, though you didn't really think he needed it.

Doctor Gaul's chuckle resounded around the room in a menacing echo that always managed to make you shrink into your seat.

She commended you all for being star students before untroducing the creator of the games: Casca Highbottom.

He went on to tell you all that today was not the day the prize would be given out but instead there would be one more task to challenge you all and gage your true worth. Everyone seemed confused but not Sejanus.

"What's going on?" You whispered to Coriolanus. He sensed your anxiety placing a calming hand on your knee but gave you no other response which reassured you that you had not been left completely in the dark.

"The Plinth prize will no longer be determined by who was the best grades. But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games." With that there was outrage, to you it was dehumanizing for the tributes, 'mentored' by people their own age but for the others they only seemed to care whether they were given someone strong or weak. A 'runt' in Arachne's words.

The reaping commenced and you couldn't help but wish to be anywhere but here. You didn't want to do this, you didn't need the money yet you were forced to have another's life in your hands.

You got a small girl from 8 named Wovey, seeing her face on the big screen left you determined, determined to help her in anyway you could on the path to being a victor. Even if that meant Coryo may lose the prize.

Snow's tribute left the room in horror, her stage presence and brutality sent shivers down your spine, though you supposed that the outer Districts had it harder and that sort of survival must be built into her.

Standing up on shaky legs you grabbed Coriolanus up from his chair and outside of the room, you needed fresh air and you needed to talk to him about what you were about to face, arguably harder than any other test the Capitol could give you.

"Slow down Y/N, I can hardly keep up." He said, words laced with worry.

"I don't believe I can do this Coryo, did you see my tribute? She's hardly eligible for school never mind to be put into an arena where she's going to be killed. She's only a child." You paced while he leant against a pillar, beginning to eat some food he a had smuggled from the buffet table.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice Y/N." He tried to help but only made it worse as you realised you were trapped in yet another one of the Capitol's games. He seemingly realised this. "Hey, hey. If there as anyone in that room who would get that tribute, I'm glad it was you. Arachne would've given up on her by now. With you she has a fighter. A chance at surviving." He said while grabbing your wrists to stop your pacing.

"It's not that simple Coryo-" You tried but he cut you off.

"It is Y/N." He said sternly and you understood what he meant. It was either play into their games or become apart of them, no other choice. "You're a born winner Y/N, give her some of it hm?" He stared down at you as he spoke and his blue eyes while at times piercing sucked you in, heart rate lowering almost immediatley.

"Okay." You said.

"Okay." He smiled, reaching a hand around your neck to bring you into a kiss. It started off slow and caring though quickly intensified as he turned you both around so now you leant against the pillar instead of him.

His hand tightened around your neck, not enough to actually cut off air but just enough to make you feel dizzy as he pushed his body further into yours, keeping you against the cold cement and trapped in his arms.

Your mouths clashed together intensely, tongues colliding in a rhythm you though you would only ever be able to find with him in this lifetime. He was your everything, your light in a blizzard.

"Ahem." Coughed Casca, drawing the two of you away from each other with baited breaths and rosy cheeks. "Just like your father, yes we were best friends. Once." He said, and with that it felt like you weren't even in the room.

"Tell me Mr Snow, what are your plans after these games?" Casca asked.

"I hope to go onto the university sir, naturally." Coriolanus answered, pulling his waistcoat straight where it had been wrinkled by your tight grip.

"And if you fail to win the Plinth Prize, what then?" Asked Casca, it suddenly became clear to you that he knew something, just what he knew you were unsure of.

"We'd pay the tuition of course." He scoffed, insulted at Casca's insinuation even if it was true.

"Look at you, in your makeshift shirt and too tight shoes. Trying desperately to fit in when I know the Snow's don't have a pot to piss in." Casca said. You felt your own heart drop and so you couldn't imagine how Coriolanus felt, the insult to his pride was one you knew he wouldn't take well and so you grabbed his hand subtly, hiding it behind your back as to not show any sign of weakness to Casca.

"Goodluck with that poor little Songbird." He said, and with that he left. Leaving you to do damage control.

"Ignore him Coryo, he's trying to get into your head." You reassured him, moving a Snow white hair from his face. His jaw looked similar to the way it did earlier when Sejanus had so much as acknowledged your presence.

"He's right Y/N. From the moment my father died I lost. The odds were never in my favour." He spat out, though his actions didn't match his words as he gently removed your hand from his hair before beginning his exit of the Academy. "Come on now Y/N, I've got a songbird to catch." He said sarcastically.

You sped after him hoping Casca's words hadn't knocked him too much, after all, Snow lands on top and he wouldn't be the one to change that.

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am, @riordanness, @suvgs, @charmed-asylum

[defututus]

Even When I'm Not With You

Through Snow & Sleet

masterlist

modern!Eddie Munson x AFAB!reader, college AU, strangers to friends to lovers

Summary: You meet someone in one of your college classes and it's love at first sight.

content warnings: swearing, it's a very modern AU

word count: 5.6k

author's note: this is technically my first fanfic. I began writing it in April of 2024 and only got around to posting it now. This is the backbone of the AU I've maintained in my head since I fell in love with Eddie. It takes place at the university I went to, involves all my friends, and some personal experiences. Once again, thank you to my two best friends @corroded-hellfire and @munson-blurbs for encouraging me to write and helping me out when I got stuck. Hopefully you guys like it because I have more to share in the future! ❤️

The cold February air was biting at your face as you hurried across campus, slow enough to avoid the ice that no doubt sat in the dark waiting for one careless student to step on it and fall flat on their ass. The walkways were lit just enough to allow you to see where you were going but not enough to help you spot any icy spots so this was as fast as you were willing to move. What should have been a relatively easy day turned into a nightmare the moment you woke up. It had snowed overnight and the university grounds crew had neglected to salt the sidewalks once again so you nearly fell twice just trying to get from your dorm building to the dining hall next door. Once you had a decent breakfast you made your way to work and learned that there was a bad cold spreading among the employees and had claimed three of your coworkers that you expected to work with today, thus leaving you with only your team lead to help you in your department. A good chunk of your morning was spent unloading consoles set to be released soon and left you exhausted. There were a fair share of unhappy customers that you had to deal with, and it only got worse when you finally got to go on your lunch and realized you left your wallet in your room so you had to eat the day-old bagels left in the break room. Five o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

Your university was located in the middle of a metropolitan area so you were fully aware that the rush hour traffic was bad. To avoid the inevitable panic of wondering if you could be held up in traffic and be late to class, you built your class schedule around your shifts to leave an hour and a half for you to get home when the longest it could possibly take is twenty minutes with heavy traffic. Tonight’s class, Physical Anthropology, was on the other side of campus so you also had to factor in the time it would take to walk there. Still, you would be left ample time to get home, change out of your work clothes, and even have dinner without the need to rush. You were thankful that this was the last week before spring break so at least you could relax when you weren’t working.

Your careful planning had worked perfectly up until today because you couldn’t possibly account for the accident on the highway. Everyone was trying to get home before the storm came back to make the streets undriveable, but one driver was in such a rush that they lost control and caused a small pile-up. The drivers were all alright, thankfully, but this left you sitting in traffic for over an hour and your anxiety slowly creeping up. You were close to emailing your professor to tell them you weren’t going to make it even though the university was right in front of you. By 6:15pm, you were finally moving and rushed across campus. You weren’t even going to change out of your uniform and decided to just keep on the sweater you wore under your coat. All you had to do was grab your bag right by your door and make the trek across campus. Unfortunately once you grabbed everything you needed, you were now left with 15 minutes to make the 11-minute uphill trek to your classroom, assuming there were no obstacles in your way. 

You made it inside the building and into your classroom with two minutes to spare, but in your mind you were basically late to class. You preferred to get there ten minutes early so you could choose a decent seat and get yourself situated, but by the time you were inside all the good spots were taken and the professor was already setting up for her lesson. The only seats left were in the back so you made your way over and put your stuff down at the first open spot you see. As you begin unpacking your things, the professor turns some of the lights off and puts on a video on osteology that you had been focusing on for the last two weeks. 

You were never a very social person in school, always preferring to keep to yourself and only talk when other people initiate a conversation. This class was only on your schedule because it fulfilled a requirement, nothing else. Your only friends here were within your small program and none of them were in this class with you. You didn’t know anyone's names or faces, especially not the person you just sat next to. His only acknowledgement of you was in the form of scooting a little bit so he wasn’t taking up all the space at the table you were now sharing. He was focused on whatever he was frantically writing down in his notebook, a curtain of curly brown hair concealing his face from you. However, you were able to see what he was writing in. It was a beaten up spiral notebook full of carefully organized notes with color coded tabs. There were flowcharts, sketches of what looked like maps, and character information. He also had some pages printed out that were tucked between the pages. None of those things really stuck out to you, instead your eyes were drawn to a hastily drawn creature in the corner of the left page. It was a scaled, humanoid figure with wings and horns. You could almost mistake it for a gargoyle if it weren’t for its stature and flames surrounding it. It’s something you’d recognize almost anywhere.

You whisper to the person next to you, “That pit fiend looks really good.” His pen stops mid-sentence and his head shoots up to look at you. A woodsy smell mixed with a hint of tobacco and mint wafted towards you with his movements. It was almost intoxicating.The first thing you looked at were his eyes. They were wide open with shock and they were the richest, most beautiful shade of brown you had seen in your entire life. His lips were full, a little chapped either from biting and wetting them or the cold weather sucking all the moisture out of everything. He had light freckled across his nose and a small, faded scar on his forehead. The rest of his hair that wasn’t previously obscuring his face was tied back into a bun. You both sat there in silence for a moment as he struggled to put words together. He’s wearing chunky silver rings and a worn Slipknot hoodie. You could even see the edges of a tattoo peeking out from under the collar and another of a goat skull on his left hand. 

“Oh, thanks. Um…” He looked down at the page for a second, ringed hands fidgeting with the pen he was holding before pointing towards the large flow chart, “It’s for this week’s campaign. I didn’t have a lot of time this week to plan so I’m trying to get it all done right before we meet up tonight. My friend, Jeff, his character looted these cultists…” He glances up to check and see if you’re listening and smiles when he realizes you’re actively paying attention, leaning in to get a better look at the pages. He continues with a little more confidence in his voice.

“So his character, this Triton named Kaglas, found a really old book on one of the cultists. Turns out this book was a cursed tome belonging to a demon prince and well, he cut his finger trying to pry the book open because it was being held shut with these really sharp teeth. The blood from his finger dripped onto the book and opened a portal so a prince of hell kidnapped him and now they’ll have to get past this guy to gain access to the prison… I’m just trying to finish up the encounter tables for the rest of the prison because I always leave those until the last minute.” Before he can delve further into the story, the lights come back on and papers are being handed out to each row of tables by the professor. “The goal of this lab is to identify the species of hominid based on everything you’ve learned so far. I’m not going to pull anything funny by giving you two of the same species so don’t worry about that. Each skull is numbered. Work with the other person at your table to identify the species, write the number down, and explain your reasoning. Please be careful with these.”

The papers make their way back to your way and you hand one to your new lab partner. He accepts it, mouthing ‘thank you’  and quickly scrawls Eddie on the top of the page. Good, you tell yourself. You know his name now, progress. There’s some shuffling in the back of the room as the professor goes off on some tangent. Both yours and Eddie’s attention is drawn back to the topic of his campaign. 

You began speaking to him in hushed tones, “Your friend doesn’t seem very bright. Who in their right mind would try opening a book bound shut with fucking teeth? And they got it from cultists? Are they trying to get their characters killed or are they just dumb?” Eddie stifles his laughter and shakes his head. You’re sure the professor is saying something as she moves to the back of the room but your focus is only on the man next to you. His laugh is more beautiful than any song you’ve heard before. He begins to rock his stool back and forth as he continues to speak.

“Honestly? I’m not sure. We’ve been playing together for years and I think they’re getting more and more reckless as time goes on. At this point they can recognize when I’ve set up a trap and they take it every time just for the hell of it…”  so, do you play?” 

There’s some shuffling going on in the cabinets in the back of the room as the professor begins pulling out skulls and placing one on each table. Eddie takes the skull and begins looking it over. You hear a quiet, “These are really cool.” You glance over at it and note the size of the skull overall and the lack of a brow ridge, quickly jotting those down before moving your paper closer to Eddie so he can write them down as well.

“I just started recently, it’s me and a few friends. We just saved this sweet little dwarf bookseller named Barnes when these half-elves stole his book cart with him inside it.” You watch Eddie examine the skull, running his fingers along the area where the sagittal crest should be. His rings catch the warm light of the old overhanging lights of the classroom. There was black ink on his hands, or was that oil? You couldn’t tell. His fingers were calloused and you could only guess he was also a musician. 

“Barnes, the bookseller, huh? What’s his last name, Noble?” The only response he gets is an eye roll before putting the skull down. “By the way, I think it’s a homo erectus. There’s no crest and its teeth are smaller.” You nod and Eddie hands the skull over for you to examine. You open its mouth to get a better look at the teeth and nod to him, writing ‘homo erectus’ on the paper. The skull remained in your hands and you began inspecting it out of curiosity. 

You bring the skull up to eye level and respond to Eddie with a small smirk on your face, “As a matter of fact, it is. Y’know, it’s actually a family business. His father started it and he has a bunch of brothers with the same name. They all have their own book carts in different cities. Honestly, I think they’re gonna be real successful in the future.” The story makes you laugh. The book cart wasn’t meant to be anything more than a place for your crew to gain information on the area but your insistence on “getting to know the locals” to annoy your DM, Emma, led to them creating a character that you felt attached to right away.

He rests his head in his hand and gives you a look that you can’t quite read. He has this smile on his face and this soft look in his eyes that you’ve only ever seen in romance movies when the main characters are starting to fall for each other. It wasn’t something you had the chance to experience yourself, always too nervous to ask people out yourself. Dating apps were totally out of the question because you had only heard horror stories from your friends who had tried it. You open your mouth to continue telling the story and maybe ask Eddie about his own campaigns when your professor pipes up from the front of the classroom.

“Guys, just as a reminder. These skulls are REAL and are ON LOAN TO THE UNIVERSITY and they are VERY EXPENSIVE. Please be careful with them.”

If you were being honest, you should have realized this sooner. It didn’t feel like plastic at all and had small indentations and ridges on it. This was a person. The realization nearly has you dropping the skull that once held someone's brain but thankfully, you were holding it right above the table so there was no chance of it being damaged. A laugh rang out from the seat next to you which took your attention away from what you held in your hands. He’s smiling at you. A big, toothy, beautiful smile and you wish you could look at that smile all day long. He hasn’t been in your life very long, maybe 5 minutes in total, but you were infatuated with him. Once he manages to calm himself down, Eddie slowly reaches out and takes the skull out of your hands.

“Let me take that from you. We can’t have you hurting this guy, can we?” Once the skull was out of your hands, you hang your head low in embarrassment. You feel your face growing warm and pull at the loose strings of your sweater sleeve. You bought it when you first started attending the university and it had been through the wash more times than you could and somehow created a hole in one of the sleeves. The hole was just low enough so you would stick your thumb in it and pick at it, like you were doing right now. Eddie lowers his head a bit to get a better look at you and asks, “So I guess you never realized these were real.”

You reply, face still feeling slightly flushed, “I never really thought about it, but it feels weird… I mean, that was a person,” you reply, pointing to it with your pen as you begin noting the state of its teeth and the sutures on the top of the head, “this guy had hobbies, he had a family, he lived a full life!”

Eddie interjects, turning the skull around to the back to reveal a massive crack in the middle of it. You cringe at the sight of it with Eddie bluntly replying, “I don’t think this guy had a full life. Looks to be cut pretty short to me. This is probably from an axe or some other tool.”

The rest of the class period was spent finishing the lab and learning more about each other. The two of you  talked about majoring in history and your love for classical antiquity while he told you about his band and working as a mechanic with his uncle. You also learned that your music tastes were pretty similar, you had a love for rock and metal and even complimented his hoodie (“I’m gonna be completely honest, you do not look like a Slipknot fan.” “Wow, rude.”). It felt as if you had known Eddie your entire life by the time class was drawing to a close. You two were so immersed in your conversation that you didn’t even realize you were one of the last people in the classroom. Eddie unlocked his phone to check the time,  allowing you a quick glance at his lock screen with a red guitar on it. Your musician hunch was right. He shoots up from his stool, hissing “Shit shit shit” and begins shoving his stuff into his backpack. You look at him bewildered and he says, “I’m sorry, I need to go. Our session is supposed to start in five minutes and I need to be on the other side of campus right now!” Once his bag was hastily packed and he was pulling his jacket on, Eddie looks at you one last time and gives you a sheepish smile. “I’ll see you next week, right? No, two weeks. I’ll see you in two weeks. It was great to meet you!” You don’t even get the chance to properly say goodbye before he leaves the classroom in a blur of black leather and denim. All you hear is the sounds of heavy boots running through the hallway and out the nearest side door.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The walk from Eddie’s class to the student center Tuesday night was usually a leisurely one. He always made sure he got out the moment class ended so he would be able to fetch the keys for the multi-purpose room down in the basement and unlock it before everyone else arrived. Eddie always preferred to have everything set up so it was less likely someone could sneak a peek at his notes. He learned his lesson after he arrived a few minutes late and Grant got a peek at his screen and saw their Arakocra guide that was helping them navigate enemy territory was actually a spy for the local warlord. Eddie was a stickler for punctuality (ironic considering how he was always absent in high school) and would rag on anyone that was even five minutes late. Hellfire was meant to start at 8pm sharp and Eddie was rounding the corner in the basement, keys in hand, by 8:07.

By the time he has the key and rounds the corner to their room, he sees everyone standing outside and their heads all turn at once. He honestly found it kind of disturbing. 

“Well, well, well. Look who finally arrived,” Gareth said with his arms crossed, “we’re glad to see you could make it.” Eddie doesn’t bother trying to justify his tardiness to him and pushes through to unlock the door and set his stuff down at the end of the table. 

Everyone agreed that the drama room back in Hawkins High was definitely more comfortable than their current room and was more aesthetically pleasing. Eddie thrived when he was sitting on that throne. He would have taken it home with him if he could. However, there were some cons to that location that were rarely brought up. They had to lug extra chairs into that room every week and always had to keep their voices down. Sometimes they’d arrive and find out the space was being used for something else that week and they had to cancel the meeting. It was also located in the one part of the school that lacked air conditioning so it became unbearable once the weather started to warm up. Also, the wifi was horrible.

Eddie considered this room to be an upgrade. It wasn’t as nice as the drama room with its white painted brick walls with absolutely nothing on them and the uncomfortable chairs, but he always knew this space would be open since he reserved it for them every Tuesday night. He also appreciated the monitor hanging in front of the tables so he could display the maps and character art he did himself. Yes, they did trade in a very hot room in Hawkins for a very cold one in a basement, but everyone thought it was worth it. 

Everyone began to filter into the room and take their respective seats at the long table. There was only one seat open since one of their former players, Ronnie, had transferred to another school at the end of the fall semester so her seat was being used by Jeff. Eddie is working quickly to pull up the necessary resources and load up the map they were using last week with twisting pathways and lakes of lava. He’s filtering out all the chatter around him in order to get everything set up as quickly as possible. Jeff sits down next to him with a box of pastries from the local Dunkin Donuts. They could usually get them for free in the evening since they were about to be thrown out and Jeff was friends with one of the cashiers. 

“So… what happened to you?” 

Jeff’s question is only heard by Eddie and Doug, Hellfire’s newest member. The rest of the club were busy getting their own materials out and digging dice out of their bags. Eddie could vaguely hear Gareth complaining about losing his own set and having to use one of the sets Eddie brought because ‘Munson always has the weirdest dice, I don’t want to spend tonight staring at dice with a bunch of tiny baby heads in them’. Without looking up from his laptop, Eddie simply replies, “I had a lab and lost track of time, that’s all.”

Jeff doesn’t believe any of this. He and Eddie had been friends since they were both gangly teenagers who got detention for trying to skip gym class. Jeff knew when Eddie was lying - Eddie would always bite at his lip when he wasn’t telling the truth. It wasn’t just a lab. Something must have happened.

Jeff begins to probe Eddie with questions. He knew the only way he’d get Eddie to confess to whatever was going on was by guessing until he got a reaction out of him.

 “A lab, interesting… So you weren’t able to finish it in time and that made you late?” Eddie says nothing. 

“Did you drop something and get in trouble?” Someone else almost did, but not him. No reaction. 

“Did you eat something and get in trouble?” Eddie reaches over to the box of pastries and grabs a boston creme donut.

“Did you meet someone? You found your soulmate?” Eddie pauses as he’s sitting back down in his chair. Bingo. Jeff is shocked. Throughout all the years he had known Eddie, the man was never known to believe in love. There was a girl he met when he was 18 but that never worked out so Eddie assumed he’d live the life of a bachelor. He grew up with parents who hated each other and always seemed to be fighting so he never knew what a healthy relationship looked like. Whenever someone asked about his love life he would brush them off and say it just wasn’t for him. He said it so much that everyone couldn’t help but believe him. 

“Oh my god, Eddie Munson is in love.” Jeff says this slowly with a shit-eating grin on his face. He also said this loud enough that everyone else in the room could hear him so all the conversations being held ended at once in favor of learning about this mystery person in Eddie’s life.

“You’re WHAT?” 

“I didn’t know you were capable of that.”

“What are they like? What’s their name?”

The group questioning turned into an interrogation that yielded no results. Everyone only stopped once Eddie had finally located the music he needed and drowned their questions out with the sounds of a haunting violin, creaking, and muffled screams.

“Ok, so where were we? Uh, Tayr,” Eddie looks up at Jeff and points his pen at him, “you’re still imprisoned deep underground. You had 7 hit points when we last left off and you said you were planning to break both your ankles to get out of your shackles so I’m holding you to that.” Eddie then turns to Grant and Gareth who are looking annoyed that their friend is ignoring them, but he persists. He has a campaign to run. “Hylbaez, I believe you and Ariver were going to attempt horse stacking to get up to that open window. I don’t know how the two of you plan on doing that without your horses and how you’re gonna reach the 7th floor even if you had your horses with you. You’ve had a week to figure that out.” He looks over his notes one last time before looking up at the group. Nobody appears to be ready to play. No pencils in hand, only a few papers out. Hellfire won’t start until they get what they want. Eddie was really hoping they’d all drop the group questioning but that doesn’t seem like it’s happening anytime soon. With a huff, Eddie rubs his face and gives them all a look of resignation. “Okay, fine. You want to know? There was a girl that sat next to me. She complimented some character art that I’ve been working on and we talked about D&D for a while. I’m gonna try to get her number after spring break. THAT’S IT.”

It’s almost like everyone’s ears perked up when they heard him mention Dungeons & Dragons. Doug puts a hand up as if he’s in class and asks the question that everyone is thinking. “Are you going to invite her to join Hellfire?” It’s a question that Eddie had been asking himself on the hurried walk from class to the student center. Sure, the campaign they were playing had already begun but he could find a way to write you in. He knew he was a good storyteller so it would be a great way to impress you. Sure, he’s no Matthew Mercer or Brennan Lee Mulligan, but he never struggled to keep everyone’s attention and he’s proud of the stories he created. 

“I’ll think about it.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

It had begun raining by the time their session was concluded (the student center was closing) and the shuttles weren’t running tonight so Eddie had to make the mile trek on foot. He didn’t even care that the elevator was broken again. He’ll, he wouldn’t care if it was broken for the rest of the year because he’s pretty sure he found the love of his life today and nothing could dampen his mood. He rushed up the four flights of stairs and fumbled with his keys before coming inside and slamming the front door shut behind him. His backpack was thrown onto the floor with a wet fwump and his bomber jacket followed close behind as he hastily shucked it off him.

Eddie had a routine he usually followed after each Hellfire Club meeting. He would always change into his pajamas, heat up the food he had brought back from the dining halls and make that his dinner, and retreat into his room where he’d go over what happened during their session and tweak his plans for their next meeting if necessary. He did this every week for the past three years he’s been DMing at this school and the only time he ever broke this routine was during finals his freshman year where he was convinced he’d fail if he didn’t dedicate all his time to actually studying. This was the second time he would ever break that routine. Instead of making himself comfortable, he stormed down through their small living space and walked past his own room to barge into the other bedroom.

This was the second year that Steve roomed with Eddie and the first year that they got their own rooms. Since they were so used to sharing a room together, it was second nature for Eddie to rush straight to Steve when he had to tell him something. Thankfully for him, Steve never locked his door so Eddie was able to rush in unannounced and blurted out, “You will NOT believe what happened today!”

Steve was sitting at his desk, still dressed in his red school scrubs from his clinicals earlier in the day with his nose buried in his textbooks. His hair was tied back in a small ponytail, wearing his glasses, and headphones over his ears. When Eddie forced his way into the room, Steve nearly jumped out of his seat and ripped his headphones off his head and was glaring daggers at the other man.

“Do you ever learn to knock?” Eddie ignores the comment from Steve and goes to the other side of the small bedroom to sit down on Steve’s bed, still wearing his damp clothes and definitely tracking mud across the apartment. Steve is only angry for a moment until he sees the giant smile on his friends face. Eddie wasn’t exactly a grumpy person, but Steve hadn’t seen him smiling like that in a long time, probably not since Eddie got Metallica tickets from his Uncle Wayne as a graduation present. He was smiling so much that Steve was sure his face actually hurt. Eddie was beaming just like he was all those years ago.

Eddie’s leg began shaking from excitement as he began speaking, “I think I met my soulmate today. I was in my anthropology class and she sat down next to me and she’s perfect. I mean, first of all, she’s beautiful. She plays Dungeons and Dragons and we like the same music and she’s so fucking funny.” The metalhead then gets up from Steve’s bed and takes the few steps it takes to stand right in front of him. He’s wildly waving his hands around as he recalls everything that you two talked about during that lab. Steve swore Eddie didn’t stop to breathe even once during this entire recollection. As the story starts to wind down, Eddie removed his hair tie from his hair and ran his fingers through his dark locks. He sighs and says, “Honestly man, I didn’t think after Paige that I’d find anyone who I really connected with but she’s different. I don’t feel like I need to hold back when I’m talking to her.” Eddie finally stops talking and takes a breath before moving back to Steve’s bed and flopping down to lay on his sheets, wet hair and all. 

Steve fully turns around to face Eddie with an impressed look on his face as he closes his books, asking the other, “I’m happy for you, man. So what’s her name? Did you get her number?” Eddie hears this and his eyes widen, opting to look up at the ceiling rather than Steve. He realizes his horrible, horrible mistake and is kicking himself for hurrying off rather than taking an extra minute to get your name and contact information. His silence prompts Steve to scoot closer in his chair as his tone turns more serious. “Eddie, did you get her number?” Silence. “Her instagram?” Silence. “Snapchat??” Eddie purses his lips, too ashamed to say anything. “Munson, did you get ANYTHING from her??”

Eddie groans and sits up now, rubbing his face and tries to defend himself. “Listen. I was going to be late to Hellfire and I didn’t want to listen to anyone complaining about being late so I just told her I’d see her after spring break. I wasn’t thinking straight! I swear I’ll get her number the moment I see her in two weeks.”

It’s now Steve’s turn to groan and he shakes his head, getting up from his chair and moving to sit next to Eddie and begins to try to reassure his friend, telling him, “Ok, here’s what we’re gonna do. There’s like a missing connections instagram page for the school. You just need to message them and tell them you want to find her and get her contact information. Maybe she’ll see it.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

You spent the rest of the week hopelessly searching for Eddie in the massive crowds of students. There were a couple instances of spotting a head of curly brown hair only to be disappointed when you realize it’s not him. There’s about 40,000 students in this school so you wonder why you figured you could just find him casually walking around campus. Your roommate, Elena, suggested looking at your school portal page to see if you can find him on your class page but your professor didn’t enable the ‘Students’ section, only opting for pages that were vital in completing coursework. One of your friends spent two hours scouring Instagram and Facebook convinced that they could find Eddie but came up empty handed. You told everyone you knew what he looked like and what his name was, but he wasn’t in anyone’s classes or in anyone’s dorms. It was like he just vanished into thin air. Elena reassured you that you’d see him in two weeks so all you had to do was wait.

Your search was paused during spring break and put on an indefinite hold when things went downhill. People all over the world were getting sick and you watched in horror as the virus slowly creeped closer to your home state. Then into your county. Spring break was extended for an extra week as the school administration worked to find a solution to keep the staff and student body safe. Schools around the country were shuttering their campuses while yours promised in-person classes would resume shortly but they soon changed their mind. You received an email by week three stating the remainder of the semester would be spent online and you needed to pack up your dorm room. The administration was unable to confirm if you’d be returning to campus in the fall. At this point, both you and Eddie came to the conclusion that you’d never see the other person again and it would take a miracle for you two to reunite.

————————————————————————

I’m not sorry

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 37 REGRET

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | swearing

NOTES | new year in 4 hours and I haven't even finished this smau. gonna write some chaps of my smau in advance next time 🧍‍♀️anyways I'm sure you guys can tell we're reaching the end, so what if jaemy/n never happens 😈

+ I feel like this chapter could've been better (proofreading it mightve helped) but it is what it is 😭

Jaemin looks at Y/n, and despite the double doors of the lockeroom finally being swung open, he looks at her, and only her.

Her tear stained cheeks, her ragged breaths, her bloodshot eyes, they all make the guilt biting against his tongue sharper.

The palm of her hand pressed firmly to her forehead only causes his mind to run, an unwanted whistle stop door down memory lane. Every moment comes back to him, his ignorance, his resentment, his rashness — his incompetence however, is the most haunting.

All those years ago, Jaemin swore he knew Y/n better than she knew herself, her habits, her mannerisms, her likes and dislikes. He knew it all. He knew her, truly and entirely, and yet he had been so quick to assume. He felt incompetent, like those years of friendship had amounted to so little, like knowing her had meant nothing.

What use was knowing her in their best moments when he couldn't recognise her in their worst.

She wouldn't do that to him, he knew that. Y/n wouldn't betray him. But knowing wasn't enough if he couldn't believe it. Her hadn't.

And suddenly the shame and self reproach had never spoken louder to jaemin. He should have known better. Been better.

Truly, Jaemin never felt he had measured up to y/n when it came to their friendship, but something now made him feel so much more lousy than ever before, insecure. And perhaps, he had let those insecurities of his cloud his judgement.

If only he'd heard her out, if only he'd listened. If only he'd acted differently.

Jaemin sure wishes he'd acted differently. Her shouts, teary eyes and desperate screams for him to just talk to her played, a broken record in his mind.

But it was so much more than that, regret that stretched far beyond distinguishing lies from actuality.

It was about all the things he never noticed, all the small details that he should have noticed. A best friend would have noticed.

Sure, Jaemin had been hurt. He'd been through hell and back in the months after the competition, but never once did he go through it alone. He had his friends by his side, his brothers, and Y/n, she hadn't just lost him, she'd lost them too, without so much as a goodbye, never even knowing why.

She'd fallen apart and put herself back together right in front of him, and he'd never noticed a thing. The guilt ate him up inside.

What could have been, what he should've done, it was almost haunting.

Yet again, as he hears the shuffling of feet in front of him, the muffled protests of way too many voices by the door and the increasingly fast footsteps away from him, Jaemin feels like he should have known better.

Y/n was always impulsive.

And when he looks ahead of him, Jaemin realises she's long gone, shouts of her name coming from down the hall, confused eyes latching onto Jaemin.

"What the fuck hapenned in there Na?"

Jake's voice comes loud and clear but the captain in front of him looks just as dazed as before.

"Why was she crying?"

"She was crying?" Jaemin doesn't mean for his words to come out to monotonous, but he can't control it. It feels like everything is moving too fast for him, like he's a couple seconds behind of it all.

"Jaemin?" This time it's chenle, staring mouth agape at him.

"You look like you've seen a ghost what hapenned?"

He doesn't know how to respond, explain it all or find the words to even begin. And it's clear to the two in front of him.

Jaemin feels so far from reality that he doesn't even realise when Jake had grabbed him by the arm and started running, now standing not too far from the rest of their teammates.

That's when they see her, y/n, dishevelled, distraught and for the first time ever, absolutely enraged.

"You really thought we wouldn't find out?" she laughs at him, but somewhere also at herself, for having been so foolish, for not having tried harder.

Her father stands, bruised, but somehow just as proud as before. He smiles, pretentious. It's like he knows Y/n has no intention of letting him speak, because he doesn't even try to respond.

"You tried to break me down piece by piece until I had nothing, you started with Jaemin, my freedom, my childhood, and then you even took away yourself. Not that you ever were much of father. But you know what, you failed."

Watching y/n, jaemin saw her father in her, for just a moment, fleetingly, she stood proud, nowhere near as pompous as him, but just as angry. Still their differences were markable, how she was proud but not too cocky, how his anger seemed to be directed at life, and hers only at him.

"You failed because you never took anything away at all, you should've known the second you tried to sabotage my career you wouldn't win. But you tried anyways, really it's commendable. Your only achievement in life was taking away mine, so at least you accomplished something. But you know what, everything you did, all you tried to take away, it left me with so much more. And Jaemin? You must've been a fucking idiot to think we wouldn't figure this out. "

Jaemin let's a shaky breath out, some part of him relieved that Y/n didn't blame him for anything that hapenned.

He watches the rage bubble in the man across from him, the signs of his age now etched into his skin, he wasn't always like this. But as long as Jaemin could consciously remember, the man had never worn a smile, never made a kind gesture, never been pleasant. He wished he could be shocked at the situation in front of him, but the only word he could find was deserved. Y/n's father deserved it.

Still the tension is high, relief underlying but with a heavy silence laying overtop. The weight of words and memories extortionate. But the audacity of the man in front is unchanged, his hand moving so swiftly towards Y/n

"Ungrateful bi-"

It's Ningning who reaches out to stop the man, pushing him backwards and away from his daughter.

"I hope you don't think she has anything to be grateful to you for"

"I raised her." his protests are loud and obnoxious.

"Barely" Y/n scoffs, with so much more to say, but her tiredness catches up to her, "Just stay away from me, please."

It's easy to notice the sharp edge to her voice. Something that says she just needs a moment to herself.

And despite wanting to scream and shout at him, wanting to question him some more and push him a little further, Y/n walks away from the man, eyes stinging.

The weight on her shoulders is lighter, still present, but enough for her to let her sniffles grow further into full blown sobs with each step she takes away from the man. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

With the tears blurring her vision, she barely had any idea where she was going, her head hitting something hard as she strode forwards.

"Y/n?"

Y/n just wanted to be alone, in fact, the last thing she needed right now was to walk into Jay.

"I was looking fo-" he pauses, concerned as she tries to walk away, "hey it's okay, we don't have to talk about it, just let it all out" he says, soothing her slowly with a hand on her head, cradled in his chest.

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[couldyouimagine-that]

Take a Moment

Genre; hurt/comfort, fluff

Word count; 1.8k

Warnings; description of reader feeling overwhelmed, reader having a little doubt as to why Gabriel is helping them so much.

Pairing; Gabriel (Supernatural) x Reader

Gabriel who is absolutely smitten with the reader sees they are feeling overwhelmed whilst researching a case and offers to take them somewhere quiet – comfort and cuddling ensues.

I’m back! I really enjoyed writing this one (I'm rewatching Supernatural at the moment and my love of Gabriel has been rekindled) and I’m considering doing something similar with Lucifer – let me know if that’s something you would want to read. Enjoy!

Masterlist

-

You didn’t even have to say anything for Gabriel to know something was wrong. Castiel was never likely to notice, but the archangel had to forgive him that. His brother wasn’t the most perceptive when it came to emotion. The Winchesters were very perceptive, but they were only human and you were covering your discomfort well. Your breathing was regular and steady, there were no signs of a tapping foot or a repetitive hand movement, or anything that would signal how you felt.

But Gabriel could actually feel how you felt, one of the perks of his true form being an enormous series of celestial wavelengths. It was incomprehensible to you, he was sure, but you understood enough about angels to get the gist. He watched as you sat at the end of the table in the bunker’s library, having put yourself there so that no one would sit down next to you. You had your legs crossed tight at the knee, your arms crossed where you leaned forward on the table. Your posture looked closed off, but there was a mug of coffee by your side and you had been reading lore for hours. The others would assume you had slept poorly or were bored senseless. What that posture really meant was that you were protecting yourself, consciously or not.

Nothing had happened to trigger it, but it was clear to Gabriel that you felt incredibly overwhelmed. He stayed were he had set himself up by one of the bookshelves, one hip cocked against it. He had seen you leave situations like this in the past, when things finally did get too much and you needed some space to yourself. Equally, he had seen you try to tough it out and pretend everything was fine more times than he wanted to count. He truly wishes you knew you didn’t have to, regardless of if that meant you wanted his help or not.

Sam and Dean were sitting far enough down the table that it didn’t seem to be affecting your clear need – or clear to Gabriel, at least – for personal space. Castiel was browsing books along the shelves on the other side of the room, so whilst Gabriel wanted desperately to intervene and help you, he was glad for a moment to think that he wouldn’t need to.

That was until the idiot brothers decided to open their mouths.

“Hey Y/N, did you find anything on that weapon?”

Gabriel would have liked to snap Dean’s mouth shut. You told him that you hadn’t with a small smile, short but not unkind. Gabriel could see the effort it took for you to regain your focus on your reading. Just a few minutes later and Sam was the one to interrupt you, asking for the title of a book you had mentioned to him the previous day. This time it was harder for you to concentrate on your task again. It was when Dean disrupted your work for a third time, asking if you wanted more coffee as he stood and made his way to the kitchen, that you couldn’t take it a second longer.

Your refusal was decisive and your chair legs scraped against the floor as you pushed back from the table. You left the room quickly with a muttered excuse about going to look for a different book. Gabriel took his chance and flew ahead of you, leaving the library without anyone noticing. He was leaning against the wall outside your room when you arrived in a flurry from the speed at which you had been walking. You jumped in surprise when you rounded the corner to see him standing there and promptly tried to push straight past him in an effort to get a moment by yourself.

“Sorry Gabriel, I just need a minute.” Your words were quiet and your breathing had turned heavy. He knew that he would be making things worse for you in the moment, but he also knew he could help in the long run.

“Hey, sugar…” he murmured, voice even softer than it normally was when he spoke to you. “You wanna go somewhere quiet?”

You paused, hand on the door to your little closed in space in the bunker. No windows, not much by way of fresh air, and a whole group of people in the library just waiting to interrupt your alone time. You trusted Gabriel, knew he would never do anything to hurt you. And you desperately needed a break from it all.

He could have jumped for joy when you nodded, but he kept his reaction contained. He offered you a hand, palm up, which you took hold of immediately. The bunker was gone in the time it took you to blink. Instead, you stood in the main room of a sunny villa-like house, all open plan and large windows. Orange sunlight streamed in from a setting sun and to your right, double glass doors led out onto a sprawling patio. Bright blue pool water glimmered from its centre.

Gabriel let your hand slip from his as you took a few steps into the room, looking around with a beautiful if not tired smile.

“Is this yours?” You asked, a hint of wonder in your words that made Gabriel’s chest swell.

“Just a bit of real estate I have over in Cali.” He gave you his classic playful smirk as you looked back at him, amused by his dismissal of such a nice place. “Make yourself at home, sugar. You want a drink?” You seemed to consider something for a moment, rolling the sentence around in your mouth.

“Actually, I – this is probably silly, but can we just sit down for a minute?”

We.

You wanted to sit down with him until you felt better. That was how much you trusted him, how safe you felt with him. Outwardly, he just gave you a smile and sauntered over to one of the couches arranged artfully around the room.

“Course we can! And don’t ever worry about sounding silly with me.”

He held an intense moment of eye contact with you to make sure his message sank in. You took a seat on the other side of the couch and Gabriel couldn’t resist stretching an arm out along the back of it, behind your head. Not touching, but the invitation was there. You smiled to yourself at his less than subtle antics. He grinned like a cheshire cat when you shifted further towards him and rested your head on his shoulder. He slid his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in close, resting his cheek atop your head. You in turn curled into him fully and wound an arm around his neck.

Gabriel didn’t bother to fight the warm feeling in his chest. He felt no need to deny to himself how fond he was of you, instead just enjoying the moment. He felt you relaxing against him physically, but he also felt your mind becoming calmer. His breath shifted your hair as he took in the scent of your shampoo. He had years of experience passing time in the company of humans, but this little display of trust you were putting on meant more to him than a lot of that put together.

His other hand alighted on your hip as you moved closer still, mindlessly seeking comfort. You tucked your legs up onto the couch and the movement allowed you to put more of your weight against the archangel. He wrapped an arm around your waist and you reached your own up over his shoulders. He smiled at you ever so warmly as you tucked your face into his neck, watching your eyes close as you let out a contented sigh. He began to card his fingers through your hair, lightly scraping his nails over the back of your head, and all but basked in the way your head tilted further forwards onto his shoulder.

“You know you can talk to me when you feel like that, right? Or any time. I’m always here if you need me to be.” You tightened your hold on him for a brief moment. “And you can come here whenever you want, just give me the word.”

You leaned back a little at that, catching his eye.

“Gabriel, thank you. Really, thank you, but… why are you doing all this for me?” He rolled his eyes playfully without missing a beat.

“Oh no, the big bad archangel Gabriel looks like he might actually give a crap about some human.” He waved his hands around for dramatic affect before placing them back on you. He then tilted his head forward, narrowing his eyes and raising a brow. “Seriously?” The half shrug you offered had him muttering heatedly to himself in Enochian. “Seriously? Is it really that shocking that I give a damn about you? Why is this coming as such a surprise?” You were planning on not answering that verbally but he refused to let you look away. “Come on, sugar. You must know I care about you by now.” Gabriel’s hand started on a steady path up and down your back, waiting for your answer. You stumbled around your words for a lot longer than you would have liked, still unhappy with what you settled for in the end.

“I – didn’t really realise.”

“You think I bring anyone else here when I can see they need some space to breathe?” He wasn’t mocking, or even upset, he was just being direct.

“I’m surprised you brought me here,” you muttered, very quiet. He didn’t deign to answer that in words, but the look he gave you said come on. You gave a soft sigh of your own. “Gabriel, look. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t realise you cared about me so much, I really didn’t.” He went to hit back, likely with something disparaging, so you tapped his nose to get his attention. The self-righteous expression of how dare you had a grin pulling at your lips. “You can complain about me not realising later, alright? You were a much more calming influence when you weren’t saying anything.” He repeated that back to you, absolutely exasperated by your nerve, but you tucked your face back into his shoulder instead of replying. You felt him shake his head, even as his arms wound back around you.

You knew you wouldn’t have much time left before you needed to return to the bunker, but for the time being, you simply enjoyed your moment of peace.

[spxdyr]

im going to try to be nice because bucktommy's are going to inevitably see this and im not trying to start shit.

i'm seeing a lot of confused bucktommy's about the breakup. claiming it was a last minute decision, it was because lou didn't want to keep dealing with it (wtv that means), that it makes no since because of 8x05, and a lot of other spiraling bs.

i even saw someone say that buddie is never going to happen because oliver said eddie is straight...

i'm going to break this down as clearly as i can, because i've historically had issues with bt's and comprehension skills.

1. the bucktommy breakup was inevitable from the moment they got together. if for no other reason than tommy himself. from the beginning of their relationship, tommy has decided if buck was ready. not buck. tommy left buck standing on the side of the road aftet their first date because tommy decided he wasn't ready. because buck was nervous to come out to his best friend in public. tommy decided that buck would break his heart and that he wouldn't be buck's last. tommy came into that relationship assuming it would end. not buck, and not the audience. we were just picking up on what tommy was telling us. especially, given the fact that buck was fully ready and able to move past the abby clark of it all. tommy was a bad partner to buck, that's why they broke up.

2. i said this after 8x05, it wouldn't have made since to give us an on screen breakup if the only thing we saw of tommy was the thirty second birthday scene in 8x01. 9-1-1 loves a three ep arc and buck's side of whatever realization he might have started on 8x05. we needed to see more of tommy so it made sense when he broke up with buck. throughout all of 8x05, we saw the seeds of doubt being sowed in tommy. from the hospital scene after denny, to the closing one, tommy realized he didn't fit or at least wouldn't for long. because he never got that built-in family. he doesn't trust/believe that anyone would have his back like that. and he made that choice all on his own.

3. lfj is fine. he's a mulit-million dollar nepo baby. one whose been callled out for negative past behaviors and some people consider that bullying. lfj knew how long he was going to be on the show when he signed the contract to come back. the networks choice not to renew that contract had nothing to do with buddie stans. his storyline was over.

4. i can't even be confident that he's gone. there was a lot of stuff left unsaid or moved past too quickly. now 9-1-1 has a history of bad writing in that regard but they also have a habit of dropping things to only come back to them episodes or even seasons later. if he's really gone well thank god, but if he's not im not totally shocked.

5. i don't know how many times i have to say this. if eddie is gay or bi or demi or wtv, the cast wouldn't be able to say so because it would be a MAJOR spoiler. does no one remember andrew garfield and tom holland lying their asses off about spiderman ffh??? actors are liars, its like the whole bit. buck was straight until he wasn't. let's stop being dense and accept that maybe they aren't telling us everything because that would the defeat the purpose of the show.

look at this point im not just in this for buddie. im in this for an eddie that gets to be unapologetically himself. and im going to emphasize one more time how dangerous and disrespectful it is to force eddie back into the proverbial closet because it doesn't fit your ship.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

This may be an odd request, but if you are into it, can I request headcanons of Smiley, Helen, and Jason (or characters you want to write) where their partner (reader) dies in front of them on a mission of something, but somehow and for some reason, time gets reversed to start at the beginning of the day, so their partner is alive and sleeping on their bed. Please and thank you!

I sort of imagined it as them going to sleep at the end of the day and waking up and it's the previous day, I hope that's okay <3 This request also made me remember Helen and his heart jar for his dead s/o so we're just gonna pretend that doesn't happen this time :p

This got so long I'm sorry I'm posting this so late-

Smiley:

He was never made for field work, with his preference for medical assistance at the mansion he was never meant to be standing out there in the field. He was never meant to watch you take that fatal injury, to do everything he could to save you out in the woods surrounding you and fail so miserably at it, much to his extreme distress. The following hours before he'd eventually passed out at his medical table had been a mash of absolute pain and misery, feelings he'd assumed he'd be waking up to once more the following morning, but instead, he was met with your beautiful face smiling at him. He'd thought he'd died himself for a moment, after all, he hadn't fallen asleep in bed, but here you are beside him, just as snug as you were the previous morning. It doesn't take long for him to realize what's happened, and Smiley isn't going to waste the chance before him. He's quick to come up with some bullshit but believable reason about why you can't go out on the mission you're meant to, citing doctor's orders and him needing to monitor a concern that came up on a pre-mission health check.

Nobody questions him, although you're left quite concerned by his actions. Nobody else can see it, but you can see the tenseness of his body, his eyes darting about anxiously, the heavy beating of his heart. You can tell he's worried about something, but he won't tell you what it is, he simply can't. He can't bring himself to admit what he saw, what he experienced, not when it's still too fresh in his mind. Perhaps he'll tell you later, but for now, he instead chooses to seek comfort in the fact that by the time the two of you go to bed that night, you're still safe and sound in his arms, just as you are the following, brand new morning, and nothing else other than that matters. It takes far longer than he thought to tell you what truly happened that day, why he refused to let you go on the mission, years down the line, and it's only with your comfort and love for him at that time that allows him to truly grieve and let go of those horrible memories. Suddenly all those days of him being more concerned about you going on missions makes sense, and you apologize for ever questioning his judgment or doubting him, promising to always come home safe to him, just as he does for you.

Jason:

The scream leaving his throat feels as though it should rip it apart, just as he feels like he's being ripped apart at the sight of your dying body crashing to the ground. Jason can barely tell what's happening in the next few hours, between trying desperately to resuscitate you, weeping for your death, and the others trying to keep him from doing something drastic. He barely realizes when he's falling asleep, his mechanical body simply powering off due to overcharge of his emotions, and when he awakes the next morning, he can't help but immediately begin sobbing once more when his eyes land on you. You're still in his satin sleep shirt, oversized on your body and revealing your skin just as it had the morning before, a sleepy smile resting on your cheeks as you gaze at him as he wakes up, but it's different this morning because now you're replaced with immense concern over his sudden outburst. You cradle him close and attempt to comfort him as best you can as he cries and crushes you against his body, so scared that any moment you could slip away again.

It must have been a dream, he reasons. A terrible, horribly bad dream, one that felt far too real, and so he tries to calm down, but he can't. Not when everything in the day progresses the exact same day, and so he shatters, begging you not to go on the mission. He tells you of his "dream", tells you of everything he saw, how he's scared it might actually happen, and you're so devastated by the clear distress he's in, so, of course, you switch out with someone else and stay home. He's so thankful you listened, so thankful a stronger creep took your place, considering the sorry state said creep was in when they got home. It could have been you, but it wasn't. Not this time, not ever again. Jason will never allow you to die in such a way, not now that he knows it's a definite possibility, no. He'll keep you safe and comfortable in his arms, safe from any dangers, just as he is right now, and will continue to do, for the rest of your life. He treasures you far too greatly to ever allow you to truly experience something like that again, and if he can help prevent it in any way at all, he will do so, for you, the love of his life, someone who deserves to live and die in peace.

Helen:

He had such an odd feeling. He'd elected to stay home last minute, as Slender had assumed not all of you would need to attend this mission. However, he felt this clawing, nagging feeling in his chest, and so he ran, ran faster than he ever had before, but he'd been too late. Your blood was fresh as you lay collapsed against a tree, your eyes unfocused as he sat before you. He tried everything he could to try and help you, but it was too late. Others had to find the two of you, as Helen had sat there before you for hours, crying and screaming, revealing emotions nobody other than you had ever seen before. He felt as though he should be dead, as though he should have died with you, but instead there he was, laying in your shared bed, now far colder than usual due to the lack of your body heat. So, if it had been so cold, why was it suddenly so warm when he woke up? Rare tears slip from his eyes as you snuggle into him, just as you had that morning, and he clutches you tightly. He feels as though some god out there must have finally taken pity upon him and done something good for him for once.

You ask what's wrong, and he simply asserts he'll tell you later, instead choosing to look after you that day, to be far more affectionate than usual. When Slender once again offers for someone to fall back, Helen disagrees, saying he has a bad feeling and that maybe someone extra should go to be safe, and so a few do, and Helen is so unbelievably thankful that he and the extra few went. He can't believe you were basically fighting all of these people by yourself, and he hates himself for so casually staying home. He kills the person who was meant to kill you with ease, and the mission is successful. You all make it home, and it's when you're cuddled up once more that night that Helen finally tells you what happened, how you had died, how it could have been his fault, how painful it was. You're momentarily confused, but with how earnestly he's retelling it, you feel as though it must have been true, and so you thank him for saving you this time, thank him for keeping you safe, and he swears to you that he'll continue to do so. For the rest of your careers for Slender, he'll always be there, on every mission, fighting to protect the one true blessing in his life.

[ladyhoneydarlinglove]

{one piece ficlet, zosan} first impression

(i seem to have gained a sudden influx of new followers who i'm assuming found me through ao3? so uh, hi! i'm sophie. sometimes i write things. usually those things end up being very long. so here's a little ficlet from that time i challenged myself to fill a bunch of prompts while keeping it under 1K, then gave up after doing two lol.)

Rating: G Notes: pre-relationship

~~~~~

The first time Sanji heard the name Roronoa Zoro, it came from a table of drunk Marines.

He had come by with a few more bottles of wine for them just in time to hear one saying to the others, “I’m tellin’ you, everything you’ve heard about Roronoa Zoro is true! That man’s more demon than he is human!”

“Rubbish,” scoffed another. “He’s just another lowlife bounty hunter, ain’t nothing to be scared of.”

“You didn’t see him at the base last week,” the first man muttered. “Brought in a body he’d cut clean in half. Just dumped it in front of us and asked for his payment, like it was nothin’. He looked right at me and I swear his eyes were glowin’ red.”

“Were his eyes glowing, or were you just drunk on shift again?” someone else piped up, and Sanji got caught up in the ensuing brawl when someone carelessly knocked an entire plate of pasta on the floor.

He didn’t think much of the marine’s story until a few weeks later, when he heard the name Roronoa Zoro again; this time coming from a group of nearby islanders out celebrating their Mayor’s birthday. 

“They say he’s more monster than man; a demon in disguise,” a pretty lady with chestnut hair and plunging cleavage said, smiling coyly at Sanji when he handed her a free aperitif and making him swoon.

“Probably true,” the Mayor laughed. “Certainly no man I know could have cut down ten pirates in a single blow. But he saved the village from them, so I can’t rightly complain.”

“Did his eyes glow red?” the lady asked, hiding her smile behind a delicate hand; Sanji had never been more in love. “I’ve heard gazing into them is like looking into the fires of hell itself.”

“I don’t know that I’d go that far,” the Mayor answered. “Though I will admit, his stare was quite intense. I felt like I couldn’t look straight at him.”

“How fascinating. I’d love to meet him myself someday,” the lady sighed dreamily, and even though Sanji didn’t know him, he decided at that moment that he hated Roronoa Zoro, and if he ever met this so-called demon, Sanji would show him what real hellfire looked like.

Stories and gossip flowed more freely than wine at the Baratie, and tales about the Demon of East Blue kept coming in; his unmatched skill with a blade, the incredible haul of pirates both dead and alive he’d dumped at naval bases, the evil red glow of his terrible eyes. If he so much as looks at you, you’re already dead, Sanji heard whispered more than once. 

He didn’t buy that for a second, but he did start to wonder what the pirate hunter’s eyes actually looked like, given how often they were mentioned, always with an undercurrent of awe and terror. Maybe they really were red. Maybe they really did glow. Sanji doubted he was really a demon from the depths of hell, but then again, he’d heard stories of impossible things out on the Grand Line from Zeff plenty of times. Maybe he was a devil fruit user, and his power was somehow held within his eyes.

Slowly, an image of the infamous Demon of the East Blue began taking shape in Sanji’s mind, and while he couldn’t have said exactly what it entailed, it was definitely something only vaguely human with terrible, glowing red eyes. So when a swordsman with by the name of Zoro showed up one afternoon at the Baratie following his captain-come-Zeff’s new chore boy, it didn’t register to Sanji that this was Roronoa Zoro until the idiot challenged Dracule Mihawk to a fight, and one of Don Krieg’s men started screaming about a pirate hunter.

And as Sanji stared at him, this myth of a man, this terrifying swordsman, this supposed demon from the depth of hell itself, he only had one thought. I can’t believe no one’s ever mentioned how fucking stupid his hair is.

[delicatebarness]

winters widow | chapter i

Summary: As the sun sets over Winter's Reach, Lord James 'Bucky' Barnes expresses his feelings toward his arranged marriage to the youngest of The Black Widow sisters. Meanwhile, the bride arrives at the Reach.

Warning: Arranged Marriage. Emotional Distress.

Word Count: 926

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A/N: I'm out here writing chapter after chapter when I should be having a writing break. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Winter’s Widow: @lanabuckybarnes | @sapphirebarnes | @sebastians-love |Let me know if you want to be tagged specifically for this series.

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick

The sun dipped below the horizon of Winter’s Reach, casting long shadows across the ancient stone walls. In a secluded corner of the estate, near the training ground stood James ‘Bucky’ Barnes and Prince Steven Rogers, side by side. The evening breeze rustled their cloaks as the two friends spoke in hushed tones, their words carried by the wind.

“I never wanted a bride,” Bucky’s face was set in a frown, his eyes dark and brooding as he confessed. “This union, this marriage… it’s a chain, not a blessing.” His voice was low and edged with bitterness. 

The future king looked at his friend with a mixture of sympathy and firmness. “I understand, Buck. However, alliances are crucial, especially now. House Romanoff’s support is vital for the stability of the kingdom.” 

Scoffing, Bucky’s expression turned cold. “I know. I know it’s about duty and the greater good. I’ve spent my life fighting, not having to deal with courtly niceties and forced smiles.” 

Steve’s gaze softened with understanding. “She has a gentle heart, unknown to the Black Widows of Belova. She wants to make this work, to support you and your house.” 

Anger flashed over Bucky’s eyes. “Support me? She’s a stranger, Steve. A little pawn in this game we’re playing. I didn’t ask for this, and I sure as hell don’t need her support.” 

Choosing his next words carefully, Steve took a silent moment. “I get it, Bucky. But sometimes, we don’t get to choose our paths. You might even find that she’s more than just a pawn.” he nudged his friend's shoulder. 

Bucky turned away, his jaw tightening as he stared out at the darkening sky. “Time is one thing I have little patience for.” He felt a flicker of doubt amidst his bitterness. 

~

The journey had been long and arduous, cold biting through your layers as you rode through the frost-covered landscape. The reach loomed ahead, a fortress of stone and vibranium, standing resolute against the approaching winter. 

Dismounting your horse, your legs ached from the ride. You looked up at the imposing structure. A sense of trepidation settled in your stomach the moment the gates opened. His expression as cold as the frost beneath you, greeted you in the courtyard. You could only assume this was James.

“Welcome to Winter’s Reach,” he said, his voice devoid of warmth. His gaze was sharp and assessing as he looked you up and down. “I trust your journey was uneventful.” 

You nodded, trying to hide your unease. “It was long, but the scenery made it manageable.” 

His eyes flickered away, disinterest evident. “My father has arranged for your quarters to be prepared. You’ll find everything you need there.” 

“Thank you, Lord James.” 

His eyes narrowed slightly, annoyance crossing his features. “Let’s not pretend this is anything but a political maneuver. Your gratitude is unnecessary.” 

“I understand,” you swallowed hard, his harsh words feeling a sting. “Still, I appreciate the gesture.” 

Turning on his heel, Bucky did not say a word as he led you into the Reach. The silence grew heavy and uncomfortable. A chill seeped into your bones as you looked over the interior, with sparse decorations and dark lighting casting shadows on the stone walls. Depicting past battles and family crests, tapestries hung forlornly.

Stopping abruptly once inside your quarters, he spun around to face you. His eyes pierced through you like ice, holding a brewing storm within them. “This is not what I wanted,” he hissed, leaning down until he was inches from your face. “I never asked for a bride, least of all one forced upon me.” 

You flinched with every word spat, you tried to steady yourself between him and the door. Your heart raced at the proximity, but you fought to remain composed. “I, um, I’m sorry. I didn’t choose this either, my lord.” 

His lips curled into a sneer. “Sorry? Save your apologies. They mean nothing here.” He towered over you as he straightened up. The tension between you was thick and suffocating.

Taking a deep breath, you met his gaze. “I understand your frustration. But we are in this together–”

Scoffing he cut you off, turning away with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Together? Don’t fool yourself. We are bound by duty, nothing more. Do not expect anything beyond that from me.” 

His coldness ached your heart, but you nodded, you could not let his bitterness break your spirit. “Of course, my lord. I’ll do my best to respect your wishes.” 

Without another word, he brushed by you as he walked out of the quarters. His footsteps echoed through the cold, empty hall. You were left standing alone in the vast, unwelcoming space as his presence seemed to pull all warmth from the room. 

Watching his retreating figure, you realized that earning the man’s trust and affection would be a long and arduous journey. You remained determined, despite his resentment, to break through his defenses. Believing that beneath his hardened exterior, lay a heart and soul worth understanding and loving. 

Making your way further into your quarters, the cold stone was a stark contrast to the warmth you hope to bring into this union. A simple bed, a wooden chest, and a small fireplace were the only comforts. You silently vowed to be patient as you tried to settle into your new surroundings. You longed to show Bucky that this forced marriage could become something more. 

For now, you had to navigate the cold terrain of Winter’s Reach, both outside and within the walls of the Reach. 

---

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[runningfrom2am]

requiem // part seven

summary: according to coriolanus snow, his best friend had the most beautiful voice in all of panem. she had been training her whole life constantly to get where she was; being up for a residency at the most elite opera house in all of panem. singing was her passion. her true love; and when that got stripped from her in a second, his world became a whole lot quieter. he loathed every minute of it.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 1.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: opera singer!mentor!reader (blink and you'll miss it), she's kind of a prodigy!! p cool imo, mute!reader, bestfriend!coryo, friends to lovers trope ooo, mentions of graphic violence early on (particularly the prologue) but after that it's pretty safe, depictions of ptsd/trauma, mental illness and minor suicidal ideation but at least she's not entirely alone, descriptions of minor medical treatments and use of medication.

a/n: omg hi i am not dead i swear i was just in school which,,, was pretty close to death but here i am

also, reminder to follow @runningfrom2am-library and turn on my notifications there to join my taglist for this series!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

Coryo was getting frustrated that it seemed you didn't want to tell him anything. Tell, write, confess through charades- whatever it would take. Whatever it was that you went to Dr. Gaul about, you were taking it to the grave.

He had to be fair, though, he was scared to ask directly.

When he went to your house that evening, you had just wanted to talk about his apprenticeship with her. You were so excited, and the fact that your reason for attending the citadel was still an unknown slipped easily to the back of his mind because you were smiling again.

'I'm so proud! :)' You had written on that notepad of yours moments after pulling away from a hug, nearly bouncing with excitement as you held the book up for him to read your thoughts.

You were smiling again, and he wasn't going to ruin that for the world- so he just trusted that if it was important you would tell him, because that's what you always did. You told each other nearly everything, important or not, and this was an odd exception but as the weeks went by he figured that it was just nothing at all, and you had forgotten the event altogether.

Your parents weren't home today, but your staff let Coryo in anyway, as they always did. You had told them years ago he could come and go as he pleased, so they were used to it. They rarely even notified you of his arrival anymore, it had well and truly become his second home.

The halls of the large estate were quiet until he reached the wing of your room. Opera music poured from behind your closed bedroom door, a song he had never heard before. But it was your voice he was hearing over the crackling of the track, no doubt in his mind.

His feet carry him faster down the hall, and he could just about hear his heart in his throat.

It was you. You were singing again.

Coryo opens the bedroom door, hesitantly, almost; equal parts delighted and shocked and scared he was dreaming. But there you were. Your back was to him, your form encased in tulle and embroidered silk around the bodice that's tied loosely, just enough to hold it on. In the mirror he could see your reflection, your eyes closed for the time being and lips moving with every word. But you weren't singing.

Your record player spins and cracks in the corner, volume cranked as high as it would go and he wonders if that was an intentional reflection of the power behind your voice in its natural form. To convince you that you were back in that moment, that you had never changed. Every year your parents get you a record of every performance and dress rehearsal you had done that year, assuming they were good enough to make the annual cut. This one, he recognizes is from last year. Watching you pretend to be the girl you once were, god, Coryo feels his cheeks burning- he shouldn't be seeing this, he's most definitely intruding, even though he would love to sink into this moment and just for a few minutes, be able to pretend with you until maybe it would just come true.

He takes a small step back, intending to close and then knock on the door to give you a chance to prepare for his entry, but you hear the slightest creak of the floor under his heel. You nearly jump two feet in the air where you're stood across the room, hands flying to your chest to hold onto your racing heart, feeling it kickstart from the sudden intrusion. You catch a glimpse of him in the mirror and spin around quickly, dress swinging around your legs as soft as a cloud while your lips form his name.

"Sorry." He chuckles, watching you bunch up the skirt and stomp over to your record player. The fact that your embarrassment was quickly manifesting as upset was something he couldn't help but find nothing short of adorable.

You turn off the record with a huff of silent frustration, your cheeks burning under his gaze. You've no doubt scratched the vinyl in your haste, but you can't be bothered to care at the moment. The next time you played it you'd only hear this moment anyways, so you knew this one would soon be joining the oldest ones at the back of your closet.

"So... how's it going?" Coryo asks, but the slight upturn at the corner of his lips is enough to make you feel that he's laughing at you.

You wave at him dismissively, brow still creased and that little pout still forming your expression as you stomp over to your walk in closet and close the door with a dramatic slam.

He laughs a little to himself, making his way over to your bed and sitting down on the plush sheets, placing his bag next to him and rifling through it to gather what he had brought for you.

He wasn't sure if you would like it, he was going out on a bit of a limb here- but the Plinth Prize was treating him so well he could afford to fumble a few impromptu gifts.

You emerge a minute or so later, still kicking your poofy dress off your feet and into the depths of the closet as you pull the drawstrings on your pyjamas tighter. They may have been Coryo's at some point, a relic from days past when you were allowed to have sleepovers, but by now it hardly mattered.

You fix Coryo with a glare over your shoulder as you shove the closet door closed and he makes quick work of asking how your "performance" went.

"I'm kidding! I'm sorry. Should have knocked." He laughs, shrugging as you pad over to the bed, slippered feet hardly making a sound. You throw yourself down next to him, dragging your hands down your cheeks before sitting up again and grabbing your notepad from the side table.

'If you tell anyone, you'll be the next one to lose your voice.'

"Ha, ha." Coryo mocks, rolling his eyes. "I'm hoping you'll forgive me when you see what I brought for you."

You tilt your head, eyes flicking to his bag as he pulls a couple thin books from it. Sheet music. He's honestly surprised you couldn't smell it as soon as it passed the threshold of your property within his bag.

You take the books from him eagerly, hardly sparing a glance to the cover of the first one before beginning to flick through it, eager to see its contents and imagine the sound. In your mind, your fingers are already trailing over the keys discovering a new pattern, a new melody to fill the painful silence of your world.

Until... it doesn't work. You're looking at the sheet music and the sound doesn't come, you can't picture it the way you normally can.

Your brow furrows as you flip back to the front page.

"It's for a guitar." Coriolanus explains, having picked up on your obvious distress right as you read the cover.

You give him a thoroughly confused look, the blue of his eyes offering you no explanation like it so often did.

"I thought maybe... it might be good for you to try something different. If you wanted." He adds, leaning back on his palms. "I mean, you're really good at piano, and singing, and the harp sometimes, right? So I just thought maybe trying a new instrument would give you something to do, a bit of a change of... musical scenery, if you will."

You tilt your head slightly as you look down at the pages again, considering his suggestion. All you can think of, selfishly, is Lucy Gray playing that guitar in her interview, and the way Coryo looked at her before she died in the Games. How her voice seemed to enchant him when she sang at the reaping, and how he had looked over at you expecting a pleasant reaction from you as well, expecting you to see some form of kinship in her.

You force a slightly tense smile onto your lips, nodding in agreement. "Thank you." You mouth to him, trying to seem cheery about it as you wrap an arm around his shoulders to give him a hopefully convincing side hug which he happily returns.

It didn't look that hard, after all, and you're sure you could play guitar better in a few weeks than Lucy Gray Baird ever could after a lifetime of practice. There's only one way to prove it.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[fourmoony]

hi, I just wanted to let you know that reading your writing brings me so much comfort and joy. Today, I found out that the person I’ve liked for the longest time has a girlfriend, and it’s been hard to say the least. It also didn’t help that I read an unrequited love blurb featuring remus as soon as I got home 😭 I was just wondering if you’d be willing to write something where the reader assumes that remus doesn’t like her because he seems aloof, but is actually just nervous because he likes her so much. I am so appreciative of you and your beautiful work, as always 🤍

this made me tear up. your words are so kind, and are the push i needed this week to keep writing <3 never in a million years did i think anyone would think this about my writing. thank you.

i'm sorry to hear about your crush; unrequited love is a tricky and heavy feeling. i have no doubt you'll find your person, though. as someone who's had my fair share of heartache, i promise, it won't hurt forever. my friends think i'm crazy because my advice is always to just let it hurt. but one day you'll wake up and you'll have run out of hurt. and you won't even remember what you saw in them, anymore. sending love.

P.S. i suck at writing shy remus so this is more like silent, unreadable remus. idk i'm tired. hope this is okay!

---

remus lupin x f!reader - masterlist 1.2k words

cw - implied self esteem issues, smoking, drinking

Remus' thumping steps carry up the staircase only seconds after you call on him. You're facing the mirror when he arrives in the doorway, hair clasped to the side in one hand, and the other reaching aimlessly for the zip half way down the back of your dress. His eyes find yours over your shoulder in the reflection, a fond smile passing over his features when he steps through the threshold into your room.

"You look lovely." He comments, voice warm and smooth in the way that it always is.

Warm Remus, smooth Remus, so fond and kind, feels like home and everything familiar. His fingers are warm as he tugs gently at the zip, one hand placed on your shoulder for leverage. His touch is gentle, like he's afraid he might break you, and it lingers for only a moment when he's done. You swallow around the lump of want in your throat, the want for it to have lasted longer, the want for him to touch you and have it mean something. It doesn't do any good to want. Because you can't have, and you've had to deal with becoming okay with that fact.

"Thanks, Rem."

He nods, lips curled in on themselves like he wants to say something, a look in his eyes you've never been able to read. He says nothing, and he retreats with the promise to wait on you with the others in the living room. Remus does that a lot - refrains from the things he wants to say, stops himself short. You wish he wouldn't.

You're always wishing, wishing, wishing.

He keeps true to his word. Remus is waiting in the living room with Sirius, James, and a rather flustered looking Frank when you descend the staircase. It's only now you realise how lovely Remus looks in his suit. Partly because of how Sirius is wearing his - like he had a fight with it and lost. Remus stands when you appear, as if on instinct, and takes a step forwards. You smile, eyes catching on Frank who's looking at the clock like it's stealing time from before his very eyes. You suppose, in a way, it is.

"You okay?" You feel the need to ask, hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Frank looks alarmed by your question, a grimace on his face, "She's going to be there, isn't she? She's not going to, like, do a runner? Have you spoke to her today?"

James huffs a laugh, pats Frank on the shoulder rather heavily. The whiskey in his crystal tumbler splashes over the side and onto the rug. "Last I heard, Mary and Marlene had her pinned down in the make up chair, she tried, but they wouldn't let her."

Sirius barks a laugh. Frank scowls. He knows you're kidding. Alice Fortescue has been absolutely smitten for Frank Longbottom since she was thirteen. There's absolutely nothing that could stop her from walking down that aisle, today. Frank knows that as well as you do.

"Not helping." James decides, passes Frank a cigarette.

He mumbles something about not wanting to smoke inside and makes for the door. Remus gives James and Remus a pointed look, "Better make sure he doesn't do a runner, yeah?"

They're quick out the door like they actually believe Frank would ever do something like that. The only place he'd ever run to is Alice. And she'd have his balls for seeing her in her wedding dress before the ceremony. Remus gives you a familiar smile, a knowing smile, a smile he saves for you and you only. It feels like he's in on something you aren't when he smiles like that. Heat crawls up your neck, flowers wrap their way around you rib cage.

"You scrub up well, you know." Is all you manage to say, rather breathless.

Remus rolls his eyes, "I try."

A minute of amused silence, Remus passes you the glass of wine in his hand. The glass is warm from being in his clutch, but you drink from it anyway.

"I thought after the catering disaster this wedding wasn't going to happen." Remus admits, looking out of the living room window at where Frank paces the length of the front path, working his way through his second cigarette. Alice will have your head for allowing such a thing.

You hum a disagreement, eyes roaming Remus' face, it's so soft, so beautifully shaped. You've no idea why he hates his scars so much. They only outline his best qualities. The one over the bridge of his perfectly sloped nose, the one under his beautiful amber eyes, the one along his sharp cheekbones, and your favourite one: the one across his cupids bow, defining his soft, pink lips. It's a shame, really, that Remus Lupin thinks so little of himself. You'd give him the world should he only ask.

"I think nothing can stop a love like that," You murmur, soft and quiet, voice thick with something, "Not even a shoddy caterer."

Remus' eyes leave the front garden, meet with yours in a way that always makes heat explode in your chest. He's too much to look at, sometimes. It physically hurts.

"You always have such a positive outlook on life."

You laugh, shoulders shrugging, "Suppose it's habit."

"From?"

"Keeping you miserable lot from giving up all together?" You offer, smiling over the rim of your wine glass.

Remus laughs, genuine and unashamed. "Tell you what, at our wedding, I promise to be the one keeping everything together, how about that?"

He seems to flinch after that, like he's physically pained by the words coming out of his mouth. You flinch, too. The flowers around your rib cage wilt and pull tighter all in one go, a frown pulling at your lips.

"I wasn't aware we were getting married."

Remus smiles like he's in pain, "Yeah, well, step one would actually be asking you on a date, but I'm a right twat who's mucked all that up."

There's something self deprecating about him. You don't like it. Remus Lupin deserves the world. You'll give him the world. You didn't think he wanted that from you, though. But you smile, gentle and sweet in a way you hope he'll like. It feels like something shifts. Maybe the stars begin to write a story about you both. Maybe the sun stops it's rotation just for a second to watch you both.

The wedding car pulls up outside and Remus, seemingly eager to back away from the situation he's created, slams his own drink down on the table and makes for the door.

"Remus," You call after him, he turns, "I'd marry you."

You offer him a lopsided smile. His eyes search your face for any sign of a joke. He finds none. You hope he understands what you mean.

"How about a date first?" He asks.

You release a breath, a laugh, a smile. It feels like you're floating.

"Sure, yeah. That first."

The front door swings open and Sirius barges his way past Remus, panicked and disheveled, "I've lost the fucking rings!"

Remus sighs, hand in his pocket, hands Sirius the red velvet box, "Here."

You're laughing all the way down the path, shoulder brushing Remus', the start of something new.

[vanderlesbian]

rdr2 men as girl dads

arthur, charles, john, dutch, + hosea

technically gn reader, but some things may be interpreted as being more fem? you are the other parent of the child

arthur morgan

+ he would definitely go to the women in the gang (and you of course, but he'll be more shy about it) to ask them questions. "is this what you ladies like?" before he gives his daughter a gift.

+ he'll document basically her entire life in his journal; write entries about her biggest moments and their times together, and he'll draw her all the time. there will be pages that are just covered in drawings of you and your daughter.

+ the other gang members would tease arthur for being "so soft" around his daughter and he probably gets real flustered about it, but you think it's adorable how gentle he is with her.

+ she will make flower crowns or put flowers in arthur's hair and a lot of the time he'll forget about it, so he'll walk around camp or even go out riding with a braid and flowers in his hair.

+ of course, your daughter would have some kind of knowledge as to what the gang does, but arthur will still try to hide violence from her. he'll make up silly excuses as to how he gets cuts or bruises, and he tends to hide his guns when around her. hell, he won't even really smoke when in her presence.

+ arthur is very accepting, and that especially applies to your daughter. if she wants to travel the world, he'd support it. if she said she wanted to be a dinosaur, he'd try his best to help her achieve that. the only thing he would say no to is being a gunslinger.

+ arthur's daughter would be a girl constantly surrounded by love. i can imagine her being artistic and creative like her dad, with the ability to get along well with anyone she meets. she would also be very expressive and bold, feeling that she can be whatever she wants.

charles smith

+ crafts dolls and other toys for her!!

+ he'll take your daughter out on nature rides or walks and will teach her all about animals and their importance. especially when she's a baby; he just finds it comforting to have a little friend he can talk to, even if she doesn't respond.

+ charles would be SO protective of his daughter. he would definitely teach her important rules of survival and how to handle weapons because he believes she can take care of herself, but he also can't help but step in immediately when the smallest altercations happen.

+ he also knows how cruel the world can be, and he doesn't want his daughter experiencing any of that. he likes to keep everything pg around her; if micah or someone is being inappropriate around her, charles will get upset quickly.

+ you can learn a lot from children, and charles is well aware of that. he's such an attentive listener when your daughter speaks to him, and will act like everything she says is revolutionary. he'll bring up a fact you've never heard of in a conversation with you, and when you ask him where he learned that from, he'll nudge his head towards your daughter.

+ i think charles' daughter would be a mini version of him, minus his use of violence lol. she would be quiet and only open up to those shes comfortable with, and would be very passionate about those she loves and the things she cares about.

john marston

+ you will always be able to tell when john dressed her because what in the hell is she wearing?

+ the goofiest dad but he's trying his best he swears!!

+ he's not the most vocally affectionate dad out there, but he'll randomly show up with gifts because he'll remember his daughter mentioning that she liked a specific item.

+ he'll also show affection by teaching her things. he doesn't really know what young girls would find interesting, so he just kind of assumes she would enjoy horseback riding or something of the sort. will definitely feel awkward if she expresses that she's bored.

+ john is trying, but he doubts himself and will always come to you for reassurance. he feels a lot better after speaking with you about things. "i'm just...bad at this stuff. you think she even likes me?" "john, she loves you more than anything, and i do too."

+ he's so bad at playing pretend, but he tries his hardest and you think it's so funny. if arthur catches him playing dolls with your daughter, he'll definitely tease him about it later. "dad, use your girl voice!"

+ a daughter raised by john marston would probably be rather shy, but also very kind, patient, and understanding. she might also take on some of her dad's sarcasm.

dutch van der linde

+ he would spoil his baby girl ROTTEN. he just can't seem to ever say no to her and will end up going into town himself to get a new stuffed animal for the kid the moment she asks for one.

+ dutch would definitely boast about how smart his daughter is. he would teach her to read and write as soon as possible and would feel so proud when she tells him about the things she read or wrote about. "she gets it from me, of course."

+ he would quite literally kill for his daughter. he's definitely the scary dad, but like in a way that she will casually bring up "oh yeah my dad has killed people" on first dates.

+ dutch's daughter would definitely be one to have a rebellious phase. i think he would tend to insist that she stays at camp because it's safest, but he would raise a girl that's curious about what the country is like outside of her tent. there would be many instances where dutch will send someone out—or himself to go find her after she steals a horse and runs off somewhere.

+ i feel like he would want to name his daughter something like...antique, or based off of some character from literature. things like ophelia, elizabeth, athena, victoria...

+ i actually think that dutch would raise a rather fiesty daughter. educated and bold, i think a daughter raised by the leader of the van der linde gang would grow to be a leader herself.

hosea matthews

+ i think hosea was born to be a girl dad.

+ he would so have a nickname for her that would stick with her for the rest of her life. something cute like dew drop or honey bee; and sometimes even the other gang members would call her by that nickname.

+ with the way hosea sits and listens to the women in the camp, he would do the same with your daughter. although he can be a stern parent when needed, he'll always listen to her before doing anything else.

+ he'd love to teasingly embarrass her in front of the others. "remember when you were wearing diapers until you were four years old?" "dad!"

+ HE KNOWS HOW TO DRESS A BABY!! and he would be so proud of himself. he'd probably be more excited over baby clothes than you.

+ oh he would treat her like a princess. i imagine him reading her fairytales as a child and will play along with her when she pretends to be a princess. if he could, he would build her a castle.

+ i believe that hosea would raise a humorous, kind hearted girl, who can also be rather mischievous. i can imagine his daughter being very outgoing and friendly, but very serious when needed.

[underoospeterparker]

🪸 CORALS - send me a character + an au (rockstar!sirius, bodyguard!james, etc) and i'll write a blurb!

now i would love to see your take on bodyguard!tasm peter 🤭

i got ur back!! (in this fic, their relationship isn't really specified but you can assume that they're dating but no one knows hehehe)

bodyguard!peter parker x fem!reader - mcu!peter / tasm!peter, unspecified

At a ball, everyone dressed up. No matter whether they were counts or dukes, princes or heirs, they were either in dresses or suits, and there was absolutely no exception.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, smoothing your hair down with a hand as you realised just how different you were from two months ago, and you weren't just talking about your appearance.

Your entire life had been flipped over the moment your landline had rang in your service apartment at three in the morning. You'd reluctantly crawled out of bed, an annoyed frown on your face. It disappeared immediately when you received the news that your father, who you'd never met, had been assassinated, and that you needed to return back to his kingdom, which you'd never even known existed, to become a princess.

Now, everything was surreal. Completely unreal. The crown may have looked glamorous from the outside, but it sure wasn't the same on the inside. Apart from a few exceptions, of course. Peter, for one, Beatrice, your father's old maid, and Queen Cordelia, your grandmother.

When you stared at yourself a second too long, Peter spoke up. "Are you okay?" His voice was soft, gentle, as it had always been when he spoke to you. He knew exactly what you'd been through, and you him, even though he wasn't supposed to have told you anything about his own life. You'd promised him you'd keep his story a secret: not that he had ever doubted you, anyway.

You nodded, giving him a bright smile as you turned around. He offered you his arm, which you gladly took, learning into him. "I'm okay," you whispered, more of a reassurance to yourself than to him.

When Peter was sure no one was looking, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "You're okay," he repeated.

As soon as you entered the ballroom, you were subject to bright lights, tall glasses of champagne, and maddening people you were forced to talk to and form relationships with under the instruction of your grandmother. You made your rounds cautiously, a welcoming smile on your face. It was completely false, though, which Peter knew, because he knew your expressions far too well. He knew you far too well.

You curiously watched as a man in all black and a hood covering his head entered the room. He was dressed unlike anyone else there; informal, casual. Peter mirrored your expression. The man eyed the room until he saw you, and he paused, frowning. He moved to pull something out of his pocket, and you stilled when you realised it was a gun that he was holding.

The guards surrounded him, holding him down, but he was quick to fight, and he pointed the weapon straight at you.

Two shots fired. That was all it looked for Peter to throw himself over you, shielding your body with his own. You clamped your hands over your ears, heart thumping, whole body shaking under his.

"I need backup immediately," he murmured into his hand, eyes scanning the crowd for the perpetrator. "Phoenix is under attack. The threat needs to be neutralised. I repeat, the threat needs to be neutralised." Upon a word of agreement from whoever was on the other side of the line, Peter's attention turned swiftly to you. He surveyed your surroundings carefully, and when he believed it was safe, he held out a hand to pull you up away from the crowd, all shaking in their crouched positions.

Peter held out a hand for you to hold as he pulled you up and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, hurrying you away from the eyes of the crowd and into a small closet.

Peter sat you down on the floor, then turned to lock the door. He returned to you, his lips turning downward when he noticed your teary eyes. He crouched down in front of you, his expression soft.

When you let out a half-suppressed sob, he cooed at you gently, as if you were a wounded animal. "Oh, honey," he murmured, pulling you into his chest. "It's okay now, you're safe," Peter whispered, his large, warm hand cradling your head. You trembled under him, tears spilling from your eyes. "You know I've always got you, okay? No matter what."

"'t was so loud," you cried, the explanation lost in your throat, "and I was so scared." He frowned at you sympathetically, then pressed a kiss to your forehead. You paused, knowing he'd interpreted what you said wrong. "Not for me, though," you added.

He sighed, a pleasant sound that warmed your scratchy throat. "The Queen has her own men," he reassured you, "and Beatrice isn't even in the Palace today, sweetheart. They're okay."

"I wasn't only scared for them, Pete," you whispered, turning your attention towards him. "I was scared for you."

Your bodyguard looked completely shocked. You giggled wetly at his expression, then rushed to justify yourself. "Peter, you put yourself on the front line every single day," you whispered, your smile vanishing, "and I can't help but wonder if one day, you're not gonna come back to me."

Peter face fell. He tugged you closer to him, wanting to bury himself in your scent. "I'll always come back to you," he murmured. "No matter what."

You gave him a soft smile, curling yourself into his hold. Slowly, your eyes drifted shut, clearly exhausted. Peter allowed himself a moment to just stare at you, mesmerised. When your breathing evened out, he whispered, "How did I ever deserve a girl like you?"

[theemporium]

Hiya!

I'm really new to this, so I apologize in advance for everything. Your writing is so amazing and you have me forming crushes on men that I never would have even *thought* about.

Anyways, I was wondering if I could request reader talking to remus or sirius (or both🤭) about having kids? Like, the reader really wants them but doesn't want to make the guy uncomfortable

Also maybe some spice?

Idk, sorry if this is weird❤

-🤞

omg you're so sweet, this isn't weird at all!! thank you so much and thank you for requesting!🖤

.

It had never been a massive goal for you to be a mother, not in the way it was for others. 

But there had always been a passing thought in your head—a background assumption you had always assumed no matter which part of your life you were in—that you would eventually have kids of your own. Whether it was adoption or birth, you always imagined that somewhere in your future, you would have kids of your own to love and dote upon and raise. 

You don’t even understand why the thought had returned. Or, at least that was what you told yourself when you knew very well what was setting off your baby fever this time around. You had been over at the Potter household the day before, visiting Lily and a newborn Harry and something in your heart just longed for one of your own. 

Maybe it was his chubby cheeks or the gurgled noises he would make. Maybe it was the way he smiled up at you or the way he happily clapped his hands at his mother’s voice. Maybe it was the fact he was so darn cute and your best friend was telling you how every single pain of pregnancy was so worth it in the end just to see that face at the end of it all. 

Ever since that visit, the idea had been haunting you every waking moment and it was starting to overwhelm you. 

You would be making breakfast in the morning and suddenly thoughts about having a small baby giggling in a high chair beside you entered your mind. You could be doing a grocery shop and you’d think about having a baby in the trolley with you as you made your way through the aisles. You thought about beach days with the baby, and the cute little outfits you could put them in and—

It was all you could fucking think about. 

And you didn’t even know how to bring up the idea to your boyfriends. 

Talks of the future were never rare between the three of you. You had talked about living together (which you already were) but buying a bigger place. You had talked about marriage, about how to make the bond work between the three of you if it was something you wanted to do. You had spoken about getting pets even, many jokes passed between the three of you that you needed a third dog to keep you company when both of them were away. 

But children had never been one of the conversations. 

You feared it was something neither of them would want. Between both of their strained relationships with their families, that was enough to make you doubt. Sirius had opened up more than once that he feared becoming like his parents. Meanwhile, Remus had opened up about fearing passing on his condition to any children he had, if he could even have children that was. 

You feared that if you said you wanted a child, it would be a dealbreaker for your boys so you kept it to yourself, even if it was killing you from the inside. 

Both boys knew something was up instantly. The way you jumped at their touches and didn’t seem to initiate affection as much as you usually did. It was odd and they couldn’t work out what was wrong until they had decided to confront you about it.

“For the fiftieth time, there’s nothing wrong,” you insisted as you wandered around the room, picking up random trinkets and setting them somewhere else before repeating the cycle. They both stood in the room with you, watching your every movement and their eyes felt heavy on you. 

“We don’t believe you,” Sirius said, frowning as you started to reorganise the bookshelf for the tenth time. “Love, you know you can tell us anything, right?” 

“Of course,” you breathed out. 

“So tell us,” Remus sighed, a crease between his brows as he reached for you, halting your movements before you started shifting around the furniture. “Darling, please.” 

You looked at his concerned expression and you knew Sirius’ would be no different, and the thought made your chest tighten. You didn’t like lying to your boys or hiding things from them. And the fear consumed you for the last week, whispering things in your head as you distanced yourself from them but you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“I want a baby!” you blurted out and both boys froze. 

“Like…a random child off the street or…?” Sirius questioned, frowning a little as he trailed off. 

“No! No,” you blushed in embarrassment as you let out a sigh. “I want children. I want to have babies with you two.” 

Neither of them said anything. 

“Fuck, this is why I didn’t want to say anything,” you groaned, the panic rising in your chest as you ran a shaky hand through your hair. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured and we haven’t even spoke about it but I can’t stop thinking about it and it’s driving me mad and—” 

However, you failed to notice the look both boys shared over your head.

“You want a baby?” Remus asked, his voice a little deeper than it was moments ago.

You nodded your head. 

“You want to carry our children, love?” Sirius asked this time, slipping into the spot behind you as he wound his arms around you. 

You nodded again.

“Say it,” Remus muttered, his eyes darkening as he watched you gulp.

“I want your babies,” you whispered to them.

“Fuck,” Sirius groaned from behind you, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt and his hands splayed across your stomach. “That’s the hottest thing you have ever said to us.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, you want—”

“Yeah, we do,” Remus grumbled as his fingers wound in your hair, tugging your head back as he stepped closer to you. “Fuck, sweetheart, you should’ve told us earlier.” 

“I’m sorry,” you breathed out, your eyes fluttering shut as Sirius pressed kisses along your neck.

“Just gotta make up for lost time,” Remus grinned, and it was a little sadistic but that just made your thighs clench together in anticipation. 

“Gonna put a baby in you, love,” Sirius growled against your skin. “Gonna knock our girl up good.”

.

[bairdthereader]

Julio Spring, let's have a chat.

I find this man hard to write about because sometimes he makes himself exactly what his son needs, and other times he's almost damagingly quiet. Without knowing too much about Julio's past (I think I've read everything Alice has written about him, but for the purposes of this post I'm going to focus mainly on what we know from the show), it can be hard to parse his motivations and actions. But one thing we know for sure is that Julio is deeply concerned for Charlie.

The most poignant scene between them is obviously when Julio hugs Charlie after Harry's party. He can sense immediately that something is wrong, very wrong, but has the intuition and sensitivity to push aside the intense curiosity he must be feeling about why, or the details of what happened, and addresses the most pressing issue--Charlie's need for comfort and support.

Though we never see it on screen, or even much in the books aside from some narrative flashbacks, this must be a tragically familiar scenario for Julio; after all, he's been through at least a year or more of dealing with the aftermath of the bullying Charlie experiences. How achingly difficult must it be for Julio to repeat "it's going to be okay" to his son when he knows there's a good chance it might not ever be truly okay. The trust that Charlie must have in Julio to allow himself to fall apart in front of him indicates that Julio must have handled those past crises with enough care to make Charlie see him as a safe space. [And we can't assume that Julio is safe for Charlie just because he's his father--Alice makes it clear in other storylines that safety with family is far, far from a given.]

Julio has gone through this enough times that, when it's time to drop Charlie off at the cinema, he's clearly torn between allowing Charlie the freedom he needs, and the space to make his own judgments about what he can handle, versus his parental desire to protect Charlie from harm. The fact that he gives Charlie that space earns him a lot of respect in my eyes.

Afterward, he can tell that the conversation between Charlie and Ben was an antagonistic one, and that his concerns were valid. There's nothing worse as a parent than anticipating hurt for your child and then having that fear come true. But Julio doesn't push, or dig for more. Maybe he should have, but those calls are always hard to make, and even harder to judge from the outside.

A lot of Julio's tender and caring moments happen in the first season, so it's hard to watch in season two when there are many scenes where Julio is so obviously upset, worried, or angry, and yet does nothing. Sometimes, admittedly, it's hard to know what to do, and that's valid, but we need him to try.

We need Julio, who understands Jane and where she's coming from at least a little better than Charlie does, to step in and mediate when she's clearly letting her own past and her parents' critical behavior impact how she's interacting with her son.

We need Julio to follow up on his concern, that niggling worry and doubt that he has, about Charlie not eating and isolating himself.

We need Julio to object when he witnesses Charlie engaging in negative self-talk, to bolster his son with words of support.

Julio Spring is a good dad who cares incredibly deeply for a son he can't always completely understand, but there's room for growth here too. I really hope we get to see that in season 3.

*And fear not, the infamous hanky panky conversation will get its own post.

[mybl--dyvalentine]

Supernatural જ⁀➴ Soobin

✮ non idol au! soobin x gn! reader

✮ Summary: You met Soobin at the wrong time. There was no doubt that he was the right person though. Both of you were just not in the right place to be dating at the moment. Has fate brought him back into your life for a reason? Or was it just a coincidence?

✮ Genre: Fluff

✮ Word Count: 832

✮ Author's Note: Writing angst is hard so here's a fluff fic!

The sky roars, and a flash of light illuminates a small part of the atmosphere. It's been pouring rain since 6 pm and coincidentally, you ran out of the essentials at home. Now, you're on a treacherous adventure to replenish your supplies before the storm gets any worse than it already is.

You walk into the nearest convenience store to find toothpaste, moisturizer, and chapstick. As you browse the aisles, you find yourself having trouble searching for the right moisturizer. Scanning the shelves took up most of your attention, so you didn't notice the person next to you and bumped into them.

Your hand reaches your head, and you say, "Ah! I'm sorry!"

"It's okay," The figure in front of you reaches out their hand in order to pull you up.

You take their hand, finally getting a good look at the person you just bumped into. It was your past situationship, Soobin. It's been years since you last cut ties with him due to both of you feeling especially drained from the situationship.

"Y/n..?" he asks.

You stare at him, unflinching. Why would Soobin be in a convenience store near your house? Last time you checked, he moved somewhere else before you guys ended your relationship.

"Soobin? What are you doing here?" you question.

"I- uh... I'm in town for a couple of days. Visiting a friend," he says.

You nod and say, "Well, I'll get going now."

You slowly walk off to the cash register to purchase your items.

The cashier scans your items and says, "$12.54."

You hand them the cash and take your items. As you walk through the door, you fumble with the bag to take your drink out. The drink slips out of your grip and falls onto the ground, exploding and splashing all over the place.

"Seriously?" you exclaim with your hands in the air.

There was a tap on your shoulder, and you looked back to see who it was.

Soobin holds out the same drink that you just dropped and says, "You always do that."

"You remember that?" you say while taking the drink out of his hand.

"Of course! You dropped just about everything I gave you."

You start sulking, and he laughs at you. His laughter ends, and he stares at you. Perhaps he was reminiscing about old memories between you two. Your head tilts to the side a bit. It looked like he wanted to ask you something.

"Did you need something? I assume you wouldn't have bought this for me without wanting to talk to me," you question.

"Uh.. yeah. I wanted to talk to you. About everything," he responds.

"Okay, let's just get out of the rain. We could go to my place."

"Alright," he says while grinning.

---

By the time you guys reached your place, the rain had stopped. You and Soobin were enjoying drinks while talking. After talking about what the two of you did in the past, he finally asked you what he'd been meaning to ask you.

"Can we try again?" he says.

The shock took over you, stopping everything you were doing.

"You still like me?" you question.

"Of course, you were perfect. It's just that I wasn't. Well, at the time, I'm ready now," he says.

"What made you think this? I wasn't perfect at all. If anything, I was worse than you when we first met."

"If only you could see yourself the way that I see you. You are basically everything I've ever wanted."

"Really?"

"Really."

He stares at you. Waiting for a response to his question. With the years that you've been apart, you can't deny that you haven't lost feelings for him. It was more like a fire waiting to be fueled, and Soobin's confession was like gas.

"Sure. Let's figure this thing out," you finally respond.

His face changes from worry to joy.

"Yes! Oh, Y/n, you don't know how long I've been feeling like I needed to be with you," he says.

"Oh? Do tell me, how long have you wanted to be with me?" you ask while smirking.

He grins and says, "Honestly, around 3 years, but I really couldn't muster up enough courage until now."

"While you were visiting a friend..?"

"Well, you were kind of just there, and I just went for it."

You scoff and look out the window. The moon and stars were shining brighter than usual. It's like they had a part in Soobin's confession.

"You know how we used to go stargazing a lot?" he asks.

"...Yeah," you respond.

"I looked out one day, and they were bright like tonight. It reminded me of you, and I decided to ask you out soon. It seems like even the stars wanted us together."

You laugh at his childish imagination. Although you did just think of the same thing.

"Could I ask you one more thing?" he says.

"What is it?" you say.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Of course."