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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 1 month

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I keep going to the river to pray

Written for the March pop-up challenge of the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Prompt: spring

Rated: M

Tags: Italian Steve Harrington; naiad Eddie Munson; past lives

CW: child molestation (not from MC); nudity; fade to black sex

Notes: Moooom, hype is turning the blorbos into water creatures again!

Steve is five years old and the water whispers to him.

“Steven, come back inside,” Mom scolds and yanks sharply on his hand. “Nonna told you the woods are off limits. The water is too dangerous. Heavens, I can't leave you alone for two seconds, can I?”

Steve wants to cry. To thrash and kick and scream at the injustice of it all.

Because she is leaving him alone. All alone in this strange country where there's nothing fun to do and where nobody speaks his language, for an entire summer. How's he even supposed to listen to Nonna when he doesn’t understand her half the time?

The only place where he finds comfort is the spring. The little pond with its crystal waters surrounded by crumpled pillars. He doesn’t know why, just knows there's something here that calls to him.

Mom doesn't understand, and Steve is too small to fight as she drags him away. Something splashes behind them, like a large stone sinking underwater, but by the time he turns, all he can see is ripples on the surface.

He doesn’t know why he says it, because there's nobody here. Nobody he can see. It feels like the right thing to do, though.

“Don't worry,” he whispers to the water. “I'll be back, promise.”

The water whispers back.

Steve is thirteen and a man follows him into the woods. He's been lurking in corners and doorways in the village all day, smiling, staring, speaking saccharine words in broken English.

Pretty boy, sweet boy, come here.

By the time Steve notices he's trailing behind him on the lonely road in the fading daylight, it's too late to cry for help. He ducks into the shelter of the trees without thinking, not looking back when he hears the man give chase. Darkness is falling around him, but he doesn’t need to see.

All he needs to do is follow the pull.

The spring reflects the moon and stars, silver waves bouncing off the trees and pillars.

“Help me,” Steve whispers, just as a hand grabs his wrist and spins him around.

The man's face is a mask of primal hunger. His eyes glint, dark and unblinking-

-and then they catch on something behind Steve's back and bulge. All the color drains from his face. He stumbles back, releasing Steve’s wrist, muttering a word in Italian that he doesn’t understand. Then, he turns and runs.

Steve stares after him, heartbeat roaring in his ears. By the time he remembers to look behind him, there's nobody there. The spring lies silent in the starlight, but the water isn't smooth anymore. A circle of ripples is spreading, not far from where he's standing, waves lapping against the shore. Steve imagines he sees something slipping out of sight in the water, like dark tendrils of seaweed. Then he blinks and it's gone.

Steve smiles.

“Thank you,” he murmurs softly.

The water murmurs back.

Steve is eighteen and everything is bullshit. He perches on a fallen pillar, toes dangling in the water, watching the sunset behind the trees, and feels sorry for himself.

He can't protect his heart from being broken, can't get into college, can't even get his parents to love him. They probably believe they're punishing him by sending him back here, he thinks with a laugh. Idiots. They know nothing about him, nothing about the pull he feels towards this place. He's been feeling it more and more lately, even with an entire ocean between them.

“Have you finally come to stay, sweetling?”

Steve doesn’t startle. Simply blinks back from his thoughts and lowers his gaze, like it's always been the two of them out here. Maybe that’s true.

“You're not scared,” the boy from the spring observes. His head is poking out of the water between Steve’s legs, long dark hair brushing his ankles. He's naked under the water, skin pale and smooth as marble. “Do you not fear me?”

“Why would I? You've never given me reason to.”

The language that slips from his lips is strange. Not English. Something closer to the butchered Italian he's picked up over the years. He frowns, briefly, but the boy's lips - pink and full and glistening with tiny droplets - curl into a smile and he forgets to wonder about it.

“Clever child.” Long fingers curl around Steve's calves, sliding up his legs. “I'd never harm what's mine.”

The fingers slip under the hem of Steve's shorts, gracing his inner thigh, and he gasps.

“Yours?”

The boy hums, pulling himself from the water a little, so that his shoulders emerge. His hair is a dark, tangled halo around his pretty face. It tickles Steve’s skin as the boy noses along the inside of his knee.

“Yes, mine. You feel it, do you not? The pull.”

Steve nods breathlessly and the boy smiles against the soft flesh of his thigh.

“Of course you do, sweetling. It has been forever since I met someone as responsive, but you? You remember, don't you?”

Steve pauses. Is that what pulls him here? Memories of a time he shouldn’t recall? Of a place far more splendid than the crumbling ruins around them, a place filled with song and laughter and the strange but familiar language that keeps tumbling from his mouth?

The boy - the god - watches the shift in his face and smiles. Nimble hands settle on his hips, pulling him closer, and Steve slings his arms around slender shoulders as the pillar slips out from under him.

His god's eyes are bright as he walks them to the middle of the pond.

“It has been so long, sweetling, and I hunger for worship. Will you give yourself to me again?”

“I do not need to,” Steve smiles as he is slowly lowered into the cool waters. “You've always had me.”

His god smiles and pulls him in, and Steve sighs against those beautiful lips.

The water welcomes him home.

In Roman mythology, naiads (better known under the name of their Greek counterparts, nymphs) are nature spirits most commonly associated with water, guarding rivers, springs and the like. Some were worshipped as local deities, with shrines built in their honor.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles 2024

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tojiwrd · 9 months

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the consequences of the voice in your head ; toji fushiguro

pairing toji fushiguro x fem!reader

summary it was easy to love toji but, sometimes, it was difficult to make peace with loving toji.

word count 4k

content warnings angstyyy, hurt/no comfort kind of, open ending kind of, grieving, self-loathing, comparing, lots of overthinking. toji's a good good dad, megumi's a lil ice hockey kid, naoya and toji r civil and almost friendly cousins in this

Breaking habits was difficult. Waking up on a Monday at seven in the morning was difficult. Love was difficult. These were all things you knew, and they always lingered in the back of your mind ready to put their claws into any thought that questioned why? Daybreak came and went everyday, sunlight got chased away by silver streams of moonlight, and these thoughts—no, facts—remained asleep, waiting for the moment to pounce onto the occasional question that flitted across your mind: why was love difficult?

You knew there was no true answer; there was no prose you could read written by a qualified doctor on WebMD that told you exactly why love was difficult. It just was. You could ask friends, family, and even strangers on the street and they could give you an answer that, in their own circumstance, ranging from calm to increasingly tumultuous, was true. But you could never get an answer for yourself from anybody but yourself. Perhaps breaking habit was difficult for Toji Fushiguro because he had learned that love—not the fleeting kind that you have when you meet a one-night-stand and immediately feel like the stars had aligned that night for the two of you, only to feel near to nothing for them until they turn into a silly anecdote—could only happen once, with one person.

For you, breaking habits was difficult because when you were thirteen, your friend handed you a cigarette and said once you get used to it, it’s akin to the feeling of laying on your bed and the duvet is warm to the bone on a chilly day.

Waking up on a Monday at seven in the morning was difficult for you probably because as soon as your eyes flickered open, you would see Toji staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows with a rueful look on his features. The first time you’d seen this image was the morning after you, Toji, and little Megumi Fushiguro moved into your new place. It brought a smile to your face, the kind of smile that is only worn by a person when they admire somebody when they aren’t looking. That was until he opened his palms and stared down at his fingers, right hand coming up to softly brush the empty ring finger. He’d bit his lip slightly, and you just about missed him from seeing you awake, before he reached down to the pocket of his plaid blue sleep shorts you’d gifted him and pulled out a ring—the ring, you’d realized—and placed it on the empty finger he was focused on.

You had beat yourself up over witnessing him having a moment as private as that for the next week without his knowledge, but there was truly no way to bring it up to him afterwards organically.

You could say, “Hey! I actually saw you put on your ring from your last marriage on your finger that morning when you thought I was asleep.” But that would, in nearly every case, not go down well.

Toji had told you, though, why this had grown into a Monday morning ritual. Well, he didn’t exactly tell you that he woke up a few minutes before you to reminisce about his late wife and their marriage, but you’d put the pieces together like you always did. Apparently, Toji’s late wife would always wake up early on Monday mornings and prepare an otherworldly breakfast for herself, Toji, and Megumi; she claimed it started off the week right, and it always made four-year-old Megumi more inclined to wake up on Mondays. In hindsight, perhaps it was silly that you clung onto that little tidbit Toji had told you in passing when Megumi brought it up, but when you saw him wake up on Monday mornings and start his day off by playing a video reel encased in his mind of Megumi’s mother, Megumi, and himself, it was difficult for you to feel comfortable by your presence around him on Mondays. Still, it was hardly Toji’s fault for missing somebody he’d spent years with who got taken away from his life so suddenly.

You were just overthinking like you always did.

A Thursday in late June marked one year since you had been living with Toji. A year of going to sleep next to him and waking up with him there. It was a silly anniversary, and you weren’t going to mention it for it would most likely garner confused looks from the Fushiguro’s, but you still decided to cover the dining table with a variety of well-enjoyed foods between the three of you.

There was a small photo-frame that stood in an arbitrary corner of the table where nobody sat. It was a small, old digital camera picture of you, Toji, and Megumi on a lake and camping trip your friends had dragged the three of you to. It was simple; Toji was sitting on a log, five-year-old Megumi between his legs who grinned wildly with a s’more in his hand, and you sat next to Toji with your head leaning on his shoulder. Your friend had gifted it to you on a random Tuesday, and when you smiled so wide at her, she embarrassedly brushed you off and said, “The person who printed this said there’s a discount if I get two pictures printed for the price of one. I just thought the picture of me and my husband would look good with you and your… Toji.”

Neither Toji nor Megumi had seen the picture. Well, not until the moment Toji walked in with a sweaty Megumi wearing his junior league hockey uniform. Megumi was babbling about the delicious smell until he saw the new addition to the table (after cooing at the takoyaki from his favorite restaurant and telling his father he knew he could smell it while they pulled into the driveway) and picked up the frame with his growing, stubby fingers.

“Is this from Lake Ashi?” he asked excitedly, eyes tracing every corner of the picture as if he was recounting the exact moment it was taken. When you nodded, he said, “I had such a good time there!”

You smiled, and ruffled his dark locks before retracting your hand and saying, “Go shower!”

He stuck out his tongue at you before he ran upstairs, saying something about how nobody can start eating until he’s back.

You walked to Toji who was watching the scene play out from the other end of the table and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Hey, how was your day?” You grinned slightly as your body melted against his frame, a strange sense of euphoria enveloping you even though you’d only been apart for a day.

His arms wrapped around your waist and he bent down slightly to peck your lips. “Thrilling. I watched a bunch of seven-year-olds run around ice with sticks longer than them.”

“Sounds like a fun time,” you replied, nuzzling into his chest, right against the soft thumping of his heartbeats.

“What’s the good food for today?” he asked, stepping away from your hold and scanning the dishes on the table with a puzzled expression.

You smiled teasingly. “Why? Do I not make good food everyday?”

He snorted, and you concluded that the way he looked at you then was with love. The usual deep set of his brows were relaxed as he reached over to you and flicked you on the forehead. Lovingly. “I cook all the meals because the last time you tried, there was a fire alarm and the entire building had to evacuate.” He paused, staring at you while you opened your mouth to stop him from continuing. He beat you to it, though, by saying, “At four in the morning, too.”

“Me and Megs wanted a late-night-snack,” you argued playfully, slapping his bicep.

“That you ended up getting in a 24 hour convenience store after running the entirety of the fire department and residents wild.”

“Semantics,” you brushed him off. Walking over to the plates, you started scooping portions and placing it on the plate until you remembered Megumi’s demand.

Your body unconsciously carried you to the photo frame and you picked it up, smiling slightly. Toji walked to stand beside you, his eyes uncharacteristically focused on the slightly overexposed picture. His fingers reached to pull it out of your hands and you didn’t stop him when he walked to the small ledge above the (fake) fireplace to place it between the small collection of Megumi photographs. It was a small gesture, but it was more than you could ever ask for.

Your mind skipped over the fact that all the other photos on the ledge were either taken by Megumi’s mother (five of them were) or had her in them holding Megumi (two of them did). Although whenever your friends had come over to your place, they’d cautiously asked you if you truly are OK with keeping pictures of his late wife in your living room and you’d always said that you were perfectly fine with it. Honestly, it was never your intention to erase her from their lives because, after all, she was Toji’s wife and Megumi’s mother. There was no erasing her, and that was fine whether or not you had a place in their lives.

When you came home from work the next evening, the house was relatively quiet.

You walked into the living room, feet aching from having to wear short-stump heels but, still, heels all day. Every single day at your job as an editor for a magazine made you question whether or not you truly had the skill to walk around heels, even short-stump ones. But once again, the feeling of taking them off with delicacy because you were afraid the rough insides would scrape the parts of your skin your sock didn’t cover gave you a feeling of triumph. You were convinced that the day you come home without the visceral urge to shred the dark pieces of footwear into pieces would be the day you could claim you were invincible.

You didn’t call out to Toji because you figured he was probably with Megumi, shopping and whatnot, doing simple father-son activities. He hadn’t texted you all day, and the little demon slithering through your thoughts wanted you to overthink (like you always did) and go berserk. But you had learned to tame that little demon (severely distracting yourself by doing anything and everything).

When you had changed out of your work clothes, showered under a moderately warm stream of water, and thoroughly washed your face to stave away the office particles, you sat down on the couch expecting a text from Toji. It was nine in the evening, and it was dark outside. He had never gone this long in a day without dropping you a text, even if it was just a word, and you weren’t wrong for expecting it. Breaking habits was difficult.

When you scrolled through your missed notifications and scrolled past your friends’ messages, making a mental compartment in your mind to reply to them later, you were surprised to find that Toji had, in fact, not texted you but Naoya Zen’in had. Toji’s cousin. It was simple, short, lighthearted, and it read:

missed you today!

It could have been Naoya texting the wrong person (it wouldn’t be the first time) but an itch in your mind told you it wasn’t.

It was simple, short, and lighthearted. You were surprised at how quickly the bubbles appeared on his side of the chat; you barely had time to exit the screen before he’d replied:

the stupid zen’in dinner is boring without you there to annoy toji

he said you were feeling sick tho. feel better

It was rude not to reply, but it was ruder for you to find out this way. Find out what, exactly? That Toji had simply not wanted you to go to the once-in-a-while Zen’in family dinner you had been to a grand total of one time. That was one incident you always pushed to the back of your mind—something you couldn’t do with the Monday morning incident(s) because they always played out in front of you, never missing a week—because if you thought about it too much, you would end up shattering your entire heart and it would all be your own, unstoppable mind’s doing.

Toji wasn’t the one to invite you to dinner last year. Surprisingly, the callous cousin who had manifested in the form of a breaker of peace today was the one to invite you. Your boyfriend had his jaw clenched throughout the entire interaction, and you were sure it was because Naoya wasn’t meant to meet you. You had been at his apartment while Megumi was in school to spend time with him when Naoya burst into his cousin’s home through the spare emergency key Toji had hesitantly given him. It started with Toji yelling at his cousin that it is actually rude to barge into someone’s house without knocking and that the rule applied even if they were cousins and yes, it still applied after they had come closer after being distant and despising each other their entire childhoods. It progressed to you making tea for Naoya that burnt his tongue and Toji telling him that you are no good with anything that heats up. It ended with Naoya bringing up the dinner and how he, too, was introducing his girlfriend (now his wife) to the family and it would be lovely for you to be there, too. He’d said something about divided fire.

The dinner itself was what you could call pleasant. You met his family and they were as civil as they could be surrounded by many people who are related to them. The entire time, though, Toji was bouncing his leg up and down and brushed off your hand when you tried to stop him.

You do remember his mother had said something to you that ticked Toji off, and it wouldn’t take a mastermind to figure out why.

“You’re the perfect girl to have as a daughter-in-law, dear.”

Truthfully, you hadn’t realized that Toji would see her words and level its severity higher than you would. That was why after the longest hand of the clock ticked thrice and his chair scraped against the floor when he stood up and walked away wordlessly, you were shocked.

You assumed that, today, Naoya had taken his wife to the Zen’in dinner. You could have texted her to confirm, but you knew. And you weren’t sure if you had any right to be mad at Toji over this.

When you walked over to the television next to the (fake) fireplace, you noticed something missing. You knew it was missing because despite it only having been a day, you had looked at the picture of the three of you on that ledge for so long the night before when Megumi was fast asleep and Toji was immersed in a book and the image of the scene had been ingrained into your mind. It was somewhere beside the habits, Mondays, and love compartment.

The picture wasn’t there.

And the only trace in the living room of you being a part of Toji and Megumi’s life had vanished as soon as it materialized. It was just a picture, but it was the first one that you had brought out in the house. Toji was the one to keep it between the other pictures, and he was the one who took it off, too. You understood second-thoughts, and you knew he probably had strong feelings about it but it still hurt. It was akin to being handed candy as a kid then having it taken away from you after the first bite.

You had been heartbroken before, but the way your heart sank into a cold abyss was a feeling you had never experienced before. You weren’t sure if this was your heart breaking or the tendrils of a boyfriend-girlfriend argument sowing its way into the universe and you were just the first to realize it. It had been a year and a day in this apartment you were convinced turned into a home over that time. A year and a day since you and Megumi began collecting stickers from the different stores you went to and stuck to the corners of his whiteboard. A year and a day since you and Toji woke up with each other in the same room after a night of you tossing and turning, coming to almost-there consciousness when Toji would steal the blanket back from you and pull you into his warm embrace because you had a tendency to hog it.

The door clicked and you weren’t sure when you had gone back to the couch and began wordlessly staring at the ledge. You weren’t sure when this house stopped feeling like home for you, despite your best efforts to make it one. You weren’t sure if it ever was because there were no pictures of you, Toji, and Megumi in the living room.

You barely noticed Megumi coming towards you, pressing a slobbering kiss against your cheek and mumbling, “So tired. Gonna go to bed now. Goodnight.”

When Toji was the only presence you could feel—not see, because you were sure that seeing him would ruin you when you were in this state—in the room, you continued questioning whether or not you could get upset at him over this.

So, you said simply, “I haven’t had dinner yet.”

You heard him sigh softly. When he came to sit next to you and say, “Sorry, love. ‘Gumi’s practice ran late.” You knew Toji, so you knew he probably thought it was overkill to use his son for this lie.

It was like a time bomb was ticking, and you were the time bomb.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and he was sweet. It made you think, for a hitch of a moment, that he cared. And you knew he did. Care, you mean. Just not in the way you had convinced yourself he did. It might’ve been your fault because you always saw Toji as your boyfriend when, in harsh, world-turning reality, Toji was just your boyfriend.

You have had many boyfriends over your lifetime, so what prompted you to believe Toji was anything more serious? Just because Toji came with a past baggage that weighed just about what you could help him carry and an adorable, hockey-loving seven-year-old kid? Because he moved in with you? People move in together all the time. Hell, you lived with a girl you only spoke to when you had to make a cleaning schedule for the room back in university for a year.

“No,” you replied truthfully.

In that moment, you were scared of how this interaction would end but you were more scared of how the words you carefully locked away in your mouth had been tampered with by some universal force and were just about to come out.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. You finally turned around to look at him, and you didn’t realize you had stared over every inch of his face, as though memorizing it to a tee. He seemed to realize that, too, because his fingers fished for your hands and suddenly your hands were warm. Under his touch.

“I haven’t had dinner.” You were sure the words would come rampaging out of your mouth, ready to strike blows at Toji where it hurt, but you were reduced to a mere shell within now and the minute you saw Naoya’s text.

“Baby?” he asked and it hurt. “D’you want me to make you something? I can. Whatever you want.”

“How was dinner?” you asked, and you wanted to make yourself believe you weren’t waiting for a ‘ha, got you!’ moment, but you weren’t perfect.

“We just stopped by the convenience store to get some food.” You hated that he was lying because if you didn’t know the truth, you’d believe him. Toji, you realized, was good at lying.

“Naoya texted me,” you said, shaking your head as if you were trying to get rid of any thoughts.

“What?”

“Naoya texted me. Said he missed me at dinner.” At this point, you knew Toji could see the cracks in your facade.

Toji didn’t reply for a moment, and you felt like you both were blessed with the silence you needed for a moment. You weren’t prepared, you didn’t have a set of bullet points you wanted to discuss with him like you usually did when you were at odds. No, this time you were discussing everything you always omitted from those bullet point lists; they were off-the-table because you knew they would do more harm than good. They would break the cycle of a comfortable relationship.

“I didn’t think you wanted to go,” he said, sighing as he squeezed your hands lightly.

You exhaled sharply. “Please don’t lie, Toji.”

“I mean it—”

“Please don’t lie.” If you weren’t aware of Megumi upstairs, you probably would’ve raised your voice an octave higher. Just because you felt like you had to. But as you pleaded with him, your words came out soft, delicate, and a complete contrast to the red, hot, fiery anger taking space through your veins.

“I didn’t want you to go,” he admitted.

You had never been stabbed, but you were sure this is close to what it would feel like. “Why?” you croaked out.

“My family, they’d start asking about when we’ll get married and… yeah. Jus’ didn’t want the hassle.”

“Will we?” You didn’t think before you spoke.

“What?”

“Get married.”

“What?”

You changed the topic swiftly because truly, you didn’t care about getting married to Toji. As long as you had him and he had you. “Where’s the picture, Toji?”

“What picture?” Surprisingly, he sounded almost OK with talking to you and didn’t curl into himself like he usually did whenever topics such as this almost arose. Almost, because they never completely did.

You felt like you were breaking an unwritten rule.

“You know what picture.”

“I kept it in the room, Y/N,” he said, sounding as though he was treading carefully. As though you were a hibernating bear, ready to pounce.

This shouldn’t be hard. Love shouldn’t—

“Why?” you whispered, closing your eyes as you felt the salty wetness build up.

He didn’t respond, and you weren’t patient.

“Why, Toji?—”

“Because it didn’t belong there.”

You wanted to laugh. He might as well have kicked you and knocked the air out of your lungs because the latter did happen. You found it hard to breathe under his stare, his nostrils flaring in annoyance the way they did.

You didn’t want to ask why, because you knew why. You understood why, and you wished you could be blind to human emotion, to human flaws and errors because it would be a lot easier to walk away from this with the feeling that he was wrong and you were right.

When you stood up, your joined hands pulled away, too. If you weren’t as cynical as you were in that moment, you probably would’ve thought it was symbolic. Because a part of you was slowly pulling away from him, too. And love can be hard, you realized and accepted once again, but it doesn’t have to be dealt with all the time.

You weren’t sure if you could continue fighting constantly with the thoughts inside your head just so you could feel that Toji is here because he wants to be, and he’s not doing it while comparing you to his late wife. It was difficult to feel you being pushed away from him and his son’s life, even though it happened in the form of a photo frame from a small printing store. But maybe, just maybe, love shouldn’t be harder than you can handle.

“Do I belong here, Toji?” you asked, a sad smile forming on your lips.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #toji angst #toji fushiguro angst #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk toji #toji x you #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro #toji fluff #naoya zenin loml

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littleocean-rose · 8 months

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Our Little Star

Summary: While walking on the way to a pet store to look for a kitten you want to adopt, you trace your hand over your soulmate tattoo on your wrist, the black ink reading one little word on your skin. Byeol. You stare at it, like you’ve done countless times in your life, wondering if you’ll ever meet your soulmate one day.

AU: non-idol, soulmate Pairings: Choi San x reader Warnings: none Word count: 2.1k

A/N: words cannot describe how many people I would kill for Byeol. I love her, I adore, I want to hold and kiss her, she is the most precious baby out there. San I love you but I WILL steal your cat. (jk I’m stealing you both-)

The world was full of different ways for people to meet their soulmate.

Some had it easy. Seeing each other in their dreams, able to communicate their names and location to the other. Dreamers had it the easiest by far, followed by Inkers. Inkers had the ability to communicate to their soulmate by writing on their skin, the words and marks appearing on the others’ skin, allowing them to write down names and numbers and locations. Visionaries were the third lucky ones, getting to see a glimpse of what their soulmate was seeing every now and then, taking in the scenery of where they were, what they were doing.

Others weren’t so lucky. Stringers had that little red thread attached to their pinkies, leading them to their soulmate, but never knowing how close they were to them. For all they knew, that little red string could run across an entire continent or over an ocean. All they knew was what direction their soulmate was in. Phrasers and Tattooists also had it hard. They could go their entire lives without ever meeting their soulmate, hoping to find someone with a matching tattoo, or listening desperately for the words that matched the ink on their skin. Colorists were among that class, too—their world monotone and grey until they finally laid eyes upon their soulmate, their world suddenly bursting into color the moment they found their other half.

Then there were the unlucky ones. Counters, those with timers on their wrists, were ones you always felt bad for. While some times Counters had their timers counting down until the moment they met their soulmate, others had timers that counted down until the moment their soulmate died. There were those who felt their soulmate’s pain, or shared the same wounds as them. Those who bloomed flowers from their skin, flowers that matched the emotions of what their soulmate was feeling. Signs you did in fact have a soulmate but were never given any indication of how they would know they even met them.

You were in the class of Phrasers, your soulmate mark being the first thing you would hear your soulmate say. Some had whole sentences, but you? You had a single word. Byeol. You remembered when you were a child how you obsessed over the word, looking up the definition and seeing it was of Korean origin. So growing up, you learned to speak Korean, studying it every moment you could, until you were fluent in it by the age of thirteen. Your parents encouraged you, just as eager as you to meet your soulmate, and when you hit the age of eighteen, they tearfully drove you to the airport so you could catch your flight to South Korea.

While they supported your decision, they still were sad to see you leaving to live in another country.

It wasn’t like you didn’t visit—you did every chance you could, which was usually every other year, but you were still their only child, and they missed always seeing you in person.

But here you were, nearly seven years later, and you still hadn’t met your soulmate. While it did dampen your spirits, you decided to stop trying so hard to find them. Not because you were quitting and giving up on the idea, no. What was the point of stressing over it? You’d leave it to Fate—if you found them, hey, great! If not, then, well, that didn’t mean you couldn’t start a romance with someone else.

You glanced down at the word again, fingers tracing over the ink as you walked into the pet store. You had recently moved into a new apartment so you could be closer to your job, and you were beyond ecstatic to discover it was a pet friendly home. Wasting no time, you had run out of the house first thing after breakfast on your day off to get yourself a new little companion. While you were originally planning to get one from a shelter, it was on the other side of the city, and you didn’t feel up for the long journey.

Instantly you went to the pets section, face lighting up at the cute animals in their enclosures. You went by the birds, taking a moment to admire their pretty plumage and beautiful songs, and then past the fluffy bunnies. You passed by mice next, stopping to watch them run through their little tubes, and then stopped to watch one of the hamsters run on his wheel. Of course you had to stop and look at the puppies, cooing at how adorable they were, watching them tumble over each other as they played. You had thought about getting a puppy, but in the end you just couldn’t pass up the idea of getting a kitten.

Which was why you were now in front of the cat enclosures. You took the time to look over each cat, aww-ing over their adorable little faces and fuzzy paws that reached out past the bars of their cages. There were some adult cats, a pretty calico catching your eye as you walked by, and then a cute tabby who seemed hyped on caffeine as he bounced off the walls, smacking around one of his toys and making you laugh. Then you reached the kitten area, and your heart melted.

They were at different stages of growth, some bordering on young teen, while others still seemed to wobble a little as they stood. One kitten in particular caught your eye. It was a siamese, large blue eyes staring up at you as it rolled over on its back with a long stretch and yawn, having just woke up from its nap.

One of the employees approached you, a wide smile pulling at his lips. You glanced at his name tag. Wooyoung. “Hello! Did you see someone you wanted to go say hi to?”

You nodded, pointing at the little siamese kitten. “Yeah, if that’s okay?”

The employee nodded. “Yeah, of course! Let me take you in.” Another employee passed the two of you, tall and blonde as he approached another customer that had also been looking at the cat display. You followed Wooyoung to the door where he unlocked it, letting you to get a closer look at the cats. As you entered, a barrage of mewls filled the room, and you couldn’t help but coo at how adorable they all sounded. “Hey guys, we have a visitor! Be on your best behaviors, okay?” Another series of meows filled the air, making the employee grin. “Anyway, go right on ahead and take a look! I’ll be right here to answer any questions you have!”

You thanked Wooyoung, starting with the cages at the back first. You heard the door open again, glancing over to see that same tall employee from earlier enter. “Hey, Yunho! Oh, another person interested in getting a– oh, it’s you again!” You tuned out their conversation, putting all your focus on the cats before you. An orange tabby, curled up into a ball, softly chittered in its sleep, and you nearly had to bite your fist from cooing as to not wake it up from its dream.

You looked over each cat, making your way slowly back to the siamese from earlier, until finally you were standing before its cage. It meowed softly at you, kneading the soft pillow it was sitting on. “She’s only been here a week, that one. She was left at our door in the middle of the night with her siblings in a box. The others have all found homes, she’s the only one left now.”

“Aww, that’s sad. At least they weren’t left on the side of the road or something,” you murmured. Wooyoung nodded.

“Yeah, I’m glad we could find them all good homes.” You heard quiet murmuring from behind you, the employee Yunho talking to his customer. Wooyoung gave a hum. “If you had to name her, what name would you give?”

You thought for a second, looking back into her big blue eyes. You swore you could see stars in her eyes, a hint of a pink galaxy, and one word came to mind. You smiled softly.

“Byeol.”

Your eyes widened, turning around to the other person who had uttered the word. Your focus landed on the other customer, his expression full of shock just like yours. At the same time you both looked down at your wrists, and with a quiet gasp you noticed that your soulmate tattoo was now red. This was him. This was your soulmate. After years of searching, you had finally found him.

You locked eyes with him, taking in his features as he did the same with you. His eyes reminded you of a cat’s, and at the corners of his excited smile were two adorable little dimples that you couldn’t look away from. His hair was pink, and you wondered if that had been the pink you had seen reflected in the kitten’s eyes earlier. You never thought you’d find someone who could rock pink hair so well, and it seemed you were proven wrong in the best way.

“Hi,” he breathed, smile growing, turning his eyes into cute little crescents. It was an absolutely adorable sight, your heart doing a little flip at it. You were sure your cheeks were a light pink, matching his, and you barely registered the fact that Wooyoung and Yunho were quietly squealing to themselves while watching the two of you.

“Hi,” you replied, cheeks hurting from how hard you were smiling. “So, Byeol, huh?”

The male grinned, chuckling lightly as he looked over at the kitten. “Yeah, I swear I saw stars in her eyes.”

“Me too…” You faded off, and the male sheepishly scratched at his neck.

“Sorry. San, my name is Choi San.” He held his hand out to you, and you spotted the red tattoo on his inner wrist. Byeol. You smiled again, taking his hand, noting how small and soft it was, and how perfectly yours fit in it.

You gave him your name, his eyes lighting up. “What a pretty name,” he murmured, cheeks flushing at realizing he said that out loud. You laughed, finding his behavior sweet, warmth blooming in your chest at knowing you’d probably get along with San just fine. He cleared his throat, motioning to the kitten. “Since you’re adopting her, I am demanding visiting rights.”

Amused, you fought down another smile, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? Demanding visiting rights?”

“That’s correct. I’ve had my eye on that little baby since yesterday, but it seems you unfortunately beat me to adopting her. So, therefore, I am demanding visiting rights.”

You gave a thoughtful hum, pretending to think over the decision. You could see San trying to fight down a smile as well, loving how you were playing along. You tapped your chin in thought. “Hm, I think I can allow that. How does Thursday sound?”

“Perfect,” he answered. He pulled out his phone, holding it out to you. “I’m going to need your contact information to know where the visiting rights will be held, and how to get ahold of you for said visits.”

You held out your phone for him to take as you took his. “Of course.” The both of you exchanged contact information, handing each other back your phones, and you couldn’t fight off the smile any more. “San, it’s been an absolute pleasure meeting you.”

“It really has been. I’m so glad I decided to wait until today to come back for Byeol.” He offered you a shy smile. “I’ll… text you later, then…?”

“Please, any time you want.” Your fingers traced over your tattoo. “I’ll see you Thursday the, Mister Choi. With Byeol in tow, of course.”

He laughed, the sound like music to your ears, and you decided you wanted to spend the rest of your life listening to it. He rubbed at his neck again, your eyes flickering over and spotting the smattering of freckles along his skin. Everything about him was so cute. “Alright then. I’ll see you Thursday.” San gave you a little wave as he left the room, and you waved back, watching him leave until he was out of sight. As you gave a happy sigh, the two employees beside you gave quiet squeals.

“Oh my god we must be matchmakers, I have never seen two soulmates meet before in my life!”

“That was so cute, I wanted to scream! You two are so cute!” You blushed at their words, ducking your head as you gave a shy laugh, thanking them. Wooyoung cooed over the moment a little longer before finally moving on to the adoption process for Byeol.

As you walked out the store with your new little friend, you found yourself smiling as you looked at the notification on your phone.

Sannie Hey~

Sannie Be careful with the little star now! She’s our fragile little baby after all!

You shook your head with a laugh.

You couldn’t wait until Thursday came around.

A/N: heeey! Don't worry, I'm still working on Guardians! It's just longer than I expected it to be, and motivation to write has been a little low lately. But! Here's my first tumblr post! Hope it was alright, please leave some feedback if you liked it!

Thank you, have a good night/day everyone! ♡

#choi san x reader #choi san #san x reader #ateez x reader #choi san scenarios #ateez san #ateez scenarios #koikoi works #choi san fluff

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spncvr · 26 days

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could you write something with spencer and childhood bestfriedn to lovers?? haven't seen you write angst! but ik it'll be good 🤣❤️

glorious | s. reid

summary: leaving spencer isn't easy

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: angst? and, again, english isnt my first languageLMAO its also too late to be writing so i hope this makes sense

a/n: IVE BEEN WAAAIIITTTINGGG FOR ANGST REQS this is so bad thp girl (gender neutral) im sorry i didn't do u justice

masterlist

YOU LOVE THE darkness.

There, you feel as though you hold the entire world in your grasp. The light, however, falters under your grasp, almost as if it’s causing itself pain by being in between your fingers. You can’t help but think that it’s almost like yourself, loud and bold (maybe, you think humorously, that’s why you’re not particularly fond of it). The light is chaotic, boisterous, and overwhelming, and it burns out your mind and soul.

The dark is a contrast to the light in every way. It is solitary, silent, and careful in its movements against your skin. You feel a sense of power amidst it, as though you can control it with the mere flick of your wrist. The darkness brings a sense of contentment to you, as if you belong there, among its shadows and stillness. You revel in the power and peace that the darkness brings you, and for a moment, everything feels just right.

The wind dances around you, a melodic tune that you can never quite decipher. It hums on your cheek and creates an illusion of harmony in the bustling city that you know isn’t really there. It is akin to light, even in the darkness. Everyone is constantly bumping into someone, everyone’s always got somewhere to be. Because the city lives and breathes in constant distress; so much so that nobody seems to notice how the sky shifts from a light blue to a tranquil orange and then to darkness, even if the city never truly gets dark. There are always lights, stars, and the sounds of nightlife and parties that can last until dawn. Despite your disdain for the city and the way it makes you feel, you can’t help but smile as you study it from afar. Perhaps it’s the allure of the city’s chaos that keeps you here, or maybe it’s the thought of what you could make of yourself in the midst of it all—but that didn’t matter, not anymore.

You’ve always promised yourself when you were younger that you’d leave.

One day, you had whispered to yourself in the darkness, when you were six, your favourite stuffed animal tightly tucked between your arms, one day, we’ll go away. You can’t remember whatever caused you to tell yourself this at such a young age. You think it was probably something silly—a classmate’s admonition that some activities were simply reserved for boys. Or maybe it was because your parents had refused to let you get ice cream after you’d finished all of your green vegetables (all that suffering for nothing, really). But the mindset had continued to stick in your mind; an ember of determination that refused to fade away.

One day, you say again, when you’re thirteen because your teacher had failed you in your first ever physics exam, one day this won’t matter. We’ll go. We’ll leave. You say it so firmly and so surely that it scares you sometimes. Because, really, you’ve never been anywhere but here—so you ask yourself: What if it’s just the same? What if it’s just as bad?

One day, you say again, when you’re seventeen because you have been looking at universities far off and away from your city far away from the constant distress it emits. You’d stare at the campus pictures on the website and study the student’s bright wide smiles, and sometimes, you’d picture yourself in those hallways, with a group of new friends—you’d be the smart, and the witty one. You’d laugh a little harder, and smile a little brighter. One day, We’ll be there. Anytime soon.

“What are you smiling about?” his voice pulls you out of your small reverie. He looks good in the darkness. Specifically this kind of darkness, one that isn’t just quite completely dark. You find that kind of darkness here, where you could see the entire city live and breathe, where you could see some underlying beauty within the city.

You offer a meek shrug, eyes never leaving the city, “It just— feels so real now, no?”

He rests his chin on one of his bent knees, sighing. “It’s always been real. You’ve wanted to leave this city forever.”

“Well,” you exhale, “I didn’t expect to leave so soon. I always thought maybe I’d stay in this city a little longer. I don’t know.”

“With me?”

You frown at him slightly at the question. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

“For me?”

The question is cruel. You don’t need him to make you question yourself because you have spent your entire life yearning for nothing more than to go and leave. You hate him for it, kind of. Because really, what did he expect you to do? Stop everything, and stay with him; for him? I’ve got dreams too, damn it, you want to yell at him, scream at him, I’ve spent my entire life hating nothing more than the god-damn fucking city, and you’re here to mess all of it up. “For me?” Yes. Yes FOR you. Everything’s FOR you!

You can’t dispute the truth, though. Yes, you’d stay with him. For him. Whatever.

Yet as you sit with him by your side and gaze out over the city, you suddenly realise —almost as if you had never thought about it before—that leaving this city meant leaving him as well. The very notion of leaving him felt so alien to your mind. Somehow, you had subconsciously imagined that you’d be going away with him —it’s always been one day we’ll leave, we’ll go— besides, you’ve always known Spencer. In a way, he was like… God, you can’t even say it. You just needed to leave. You can’t look at him when you answer a soft: “Yes. Yes, for you.”

i have like a pt. 2 of this but i hate it so heres a cliff hanger LMAOAIOSVUSBD

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weepinglilvessel · 2 months

Note

wait, now that you've done overseer designs, what about inspectors?

Oh? *scribbles a bit*

Had a lot of fun making these.

The only one who doesn’t have one is Distance cuz well… their structure is kinda destroyed ahem

But anyways, enjoy some lovely designs I made for my Ocs

#weepingask #rain world iterator #rw inspector #rw ocs #stare of thirteen stars #murky luminescent seas #time of spiraling essence #devoid in golden trails #rain world fanart #rw fanart #art doodles

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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months

Text

Say Goodbye Part III (Chris Sturniolo)

part one, part two

a/n: so ig im just letting this story go where it wants to, idk how many part it will be but lmk if you want to be added or removed from the taglist

contains: fluff, angst, breakup emotions, cussing, childhood friends to lovers to exes?, mentions of kissing, use of y/n (i couldn't avoid it anymore <\3), friendship issues, 1.1k words

There’s a tree in my backyard that’s witnessed almost every big moment Chris and I have ever shared. There used to be a treehouse in it, built one summer before I was born, where I first fell in love. It was just wide enough for our ten-year-old selves to lie head to head, our shoulders just barely kissing, as we listened to music on my first phone.

The treehouse was where, at thirteen, he first leaned in to kiss me, egged on by a dare from our friends. It was where I stopped him and whispered low that I wanted my first kiss to be real and he just stared at me nodding patiently like he understood.

Then, after my dad had torn down the treehouse and replaced it with a hammock bed, this tree is where he asked me to be his girlfriend. Where we lay together, watching the stars through the branches, until he got the courage to make that first kiss real after all.

But it’s also where I sat to make the call that ended us a year ago. Where my mom found me the next morning after I had spent the night crying so hard there was nothing left to do but sleep.

So I guess it’s fitting that I’m laying under this tree, swinging gently with the wind, when Chris finally makes his promised call. I take a deep breath, wondering if this is a step forward or backward before I answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, baby.”

**********

I pull my phone away from my face to check the time, my eyes widening when I see how late it is. We’re two hours into this conversation about everything and absolutely nothing, and it’s getting cold out here. But somehow, going inside and away from this spot feels too much like breaking a spell so I’ve stayed put.

Chris finishes up telling me about some of the craziest fan interactions he's had and I pretend I haven't heard them all on his channels. Pretending to forget all the nights when the distance between us hurt too bad to ignore, and I'd turn on their podcast listening to them argue to chase the ache away. I shake off the memory and sigh, picking at the frays of the hammock.

“What was your favorite tour stop?” I ask. stifling a yawn and pushing off the ground to make the hammock sway.

“Umm…” He starts, and I can hear movement on his end like he’s pacing his room. “Is it cheating to say Boston? It was just a crazy moment to be on a stage in our hometown.”

I smile to myself at the wanderlust in his voice.

“I bet. I wish I could have-” I cut myself off remembering our situation and bite my lip. “I mean, I’m glad you guys got to have that, Chris. I’m sure it was amazing.”

“You could have come, you know.” He says quietly after a beat.

“Chris.”

“No. I know. It’s just…For some reason, I really thought you would. I had this vision of the show ending and I would find you waiting backstage. I played it over and over again in my head. How I’d get the chance to make it right.” He laughs, the sound a little bitter. “Man, it took a lot out of me not to call you that night. Took everything I had.”

“Don’t do this.” I sigh, closing my eyes to fight off the emotions he’s stirring up.

“I don’t know how not to do this.” He admits breathlessly. “I don’t know what it’s like to not want you.”

Neither of us says anything for a few moments letting his declaration hang in the air before I clear my throat.

“We’ve tried this before-” I begin but Chris interjects.

“If at first you don’t succeed-”

“Nothing has changed between us!” I cut in, my tone stern. “It will be exactly the same.”

“You’re wrong. Everything has changed. I know what it’s like to live without you now.”

God. I sit up and stare at my phone, trying to keep my heart from running away from my head. I want to get my car and drive to where he can hold me. But what if all roads to my first love lead me right back to this heartbreak?

“We can’t just go back to how we were before,” I say sadly, shaking my head to clear out the fantasies.

“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to move forward.” He insists.

I scrunch my face up in thought. “Friends?”

He laughs like I’ve said something hilarious, “Not a chance in hell.”

“Chris, I can’t-”

“We get on a plane back to LA in four weeks. Give me until then. Four weeks to make you fall back in love with me. And if not, I’ll walk away. I’ll call you my friend. I’ll do whatever you want. Just give me a month.”

I take a deep breath and give in, making a small noise of agreement. Chris makes a goofy celebration noise and I smile despite myself before we finally end the call.

What the hell did I just do to myself? I run a hand over my face in disbelief as I wonder how the hell he could ever think I fell out of love with him in the first place.

**********

I wake up the next morning to the smell of breakfast cooking and almost float down the stairs to the kitchen. My mom only ever cooks on special occasions so I’m confused until I turn the corner and find all three of the triplets around our island.

“Uhhh… good morning.” I sputter out, reaching a hand up to smooth down my hair. Chris and Nick smile over at me but Matt won’t meet my eye.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” My mom says, smiling as she slips past me in the doorway. “See you tonight.” She tosses a grin back at the boys and they call out their goodbyes. Nick stands from the stool and comes over to me, wrapping me up in a hug that I melt into immediately.

“We missed you, Y/N.” He says when we pull away, making tears spring to my eyes.

“I missed you guys more,” I say earnestly.

Matt scoffs and stands up, grabbing his keys and pushing past us. “I’ll wait in the car.”

I flinch as the door slams and Nick shrugs apologetically.

“Yeah, about him…” He trails off and Chris picks it up for him.

“I wasn’t the only one you left in the rearview, Y/N. Maybe you should go talk to him.”

I swallow hard knowing they are right. Because before there was me and Chris, there was Matt.

Matt who sat next to me in kindergarten and shared his crayons. Matt who pulled his sleeping cot closer to mine when I was scared at naptime. Matt who was my very first best friend. Our friendship plays on repeat in my mind as I walk out to their car, wondering what I say after a year of silence. A year of ignoring my best friend for a fight that was never his at all.

I hear Kid Cudi playing as I approach his window and bite back a smile at how much nothing ever changes. I knock softly against Matt’s window and he cuts his eyes to me, annoyance evident.

“What do you want?”

part 4

taglist: @sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @sturnioloslurps @hearts4chris

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loveysloveclub · 3 months

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evermore - jack hughes

in which, raven baltimore and jack hughes were meant to be high school sweethearts. but after jack was drafted, the two didn’t work out.

raven had finally did it. she had gotten the job she had wanted to get since she was thirteen. the only downside was that she had to move away from her family and all the memories she had created back home and move to the big city.

new york had always where she pictured herself living when she was older, and she had finally made it.

releasing a long sigh, raven dropped the final box she had to unpack onto the bed of the her new apartment. picking at the tape until she finally got it, she unwrapped the box. but, when she finally did, she wished she hadn’t.

sitting on top of a pile of old photographs was a photo of her and the only boy she had ever lived staring right back at her. the two were smiling into the camera, as they sat in the front seat of his car.

“jack, stop!” raven laughed as she pushed his head away from her neck. the two were sitting in an empty parking lot after their weekly ice cream date. she was trying to take a photo to remember the night, but jack had other plans.

the boy groaned before looking into the phone screen with a dead panned face. “smile, weirdo.” raven rolled her eyes.

“i saw that.” jack scolded, which brought a smile to his girlfriends face. “then smile.”

the boy sighed loudly before presenting a big smile. raven smiled in content before grabbing his face with her hand and bringing it closer with her face. after taking a few photos, jack grabbed the phone out of his girlfriends hand and threw it in the back seat.

“jack hughes.” she scolded, reaching over to the back seat to grab her phone again. raven released a squeal when jack grabbed her waist and threw her into the back seat, climbing in after her.

raven couldn’t help but smile sadly at the photo as she grabbed a small pile of photos and sat on the edge of her bed. going through them, the next one she stumbled upon was the day of his draft. she was sat next to him, in a long black dress that he said he lived in her. ellen had taken the photo, and quinn and luke had sat on either side of them making fun of how forced jacks smile looked.

he had always hated taking photos.

“jack, smile!” ellen scolded his middle child. raven nudged the boy in the stomach with her elbow, a smile still on her face. jack huffed before smoking forcefully.

quinn and luke snickered from either sides of the happy couple, poking fun at jack in the way that all brothers do.

”okay mom, that’s enough.” jack told his mum, grabbing his phone out of her hands and sliding it into his pocket. “no, no. quinn and luke, get in there.” ellen demanded the boys before taking out her own phone.

jack rolled his eyes as his two brothers squished into the photo. luke slyly wrapped his arm around his brothers girlfriend, producing a laugh from the girl. jack glared at his brother, hitting his arm away from raven.

a couple more photos were taken before ellen smiled in content and walked away whilst looking at the photographs. luke switched places with jack so neither of the boys were third wheeling on either side of the couple.

raven watched intently as jacks leg bounced up and down nervously. the girl reached over and grabbed his hand, placing a small kiss on the back of it before she held it in her own lap.

“are you okay?” she whispered to the boy, who squeezed her hand in affirmation. “you’re gonna do it jack, trust me on this one.”

jack smiled at raven as if she hung the moon and the stars before leaning across his seat and placing a kiss on her lips. raven smiled into the kiss and she placed her hand on the back of his neck.

gags erupted from beside her, causing the two to look over at the other hughes siblings. quinn gagged loudly whilst luke coughed.

jack rolled his eyes at his brothers bestie slumping in his seat.

raven had decided after two hours of reminiscing on her failed relationship that she had had enough, and opted to grabbing a cup of coffee.

what she hadn’t expected was both jack and luke hughes to be walking down the street, with cups of coffees of their own.

“shit.” raven cursed as she frantically looked around the almost empty street to find somewhere she could hide. inching backwards, she kept her eyes on the two boys to make sure they weren’t looking at her. that was, until, her foot gave out and she stumbled backwards into a bush.

“raven?” she could’ve died right then and there, causing when she looked up, she saw the two youngest hughes brothers looking down at her.

“heyyyy, guys. fancy seeing you here?” she squeaked out. luke laughed at the girl before jack bent down to pull her back up to her feet.

the three stood an awkward silence, before jack cleared his throat and glared at his brother. luke, getting the hint, rolled his eyes and gave raven a quick hug before walking back down the street.

raven watched the boy leave, a small smile on her face before redirecting her attention to her ex boyfriend, who was looking at her the way he always had. her heart flipped and her face heated.

“hi.” she spoke softly, smiling. “hey.”

her eyes fleeted down to her feet.

“did you wanna grab some coffee?” jack asked the girl. her eyebrows raised before scrunching in confusion. “what about the coffee you already have?”

jack looked down his coffee cup, scolding himself for getting one already. if he had known he would be running into the girl he hadn’t stopped thinking about since they called it off from long distance, he would have never gotten his daily latte form the coffee shop down the road.

looking around, he quickly threw the coffee cup in the closest bin before turning back to face raven. “what coffee?”

raven laughed loudly. “c’mon, you dork.”

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jh86 #nhl #nhl imagine #luke hughes #new jersey devils #nj devils

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hlficlibrary · 5 months

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HL Fic Library 🌲 Stuck in a Cabin Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

🌲 Snow by Septic_Styles {M, 70k}

The snow was packed high, completely covering the doorway. Louis reached out to touch it but Harry pulled his arm back in.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"It's snow, Harry, not some creature from Mars." Louis rolled his eyes and pressed his index finger to it. It wasn't soft, it was firm and had an almost crunchy texture like the freezing temperature had turned it into ice as the night passed on. It had been sitting there for some time. "Yeah, just as I suspected," Louis said, closing the front door.

"What?"

"We're fucked."

Louis is set to travel thirteen hours up the country to stay with his family at a holiday rental in Edinburgh for Christmas, but when he makes an overnight stop at his cabin in the woods in the Lake District, an unexpected, unlikely face - which Louis has spent all of his teenager and most of his adult years resenting - comes knocking, seeking for help.

Little did they know that the heaviest snowfall England had ever seen would snow the two foes in for a week...

🌲 To the Ends of the Earth by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci {M, 68k}

During a yearlong hiatus, Louis visits Harry at his cabin in Idaho, where long-buried feelings ignite like the fire keeping them warm.

🌲Take on Me by @haztobegood {E, 60k}

Actor Harry Styles is preparing for his next leadi ng role as Antonius the Gladiator with the help of Louis Tomlinson, Hollywood’s top stunt coordinator. When the demands of Harry’s career get in the way of their training, the pair head to a secluded cabin to complete their training. Then, Louis begins to share senses with Harry. What is causing this mysterious connection and can Louis and Harry figure out how to stop it before they leave the cabin?

🌲 Warming Up to You by @youreyesonlarry {E, 56k}

“I feel you,” Harry nods along as he zips his bag open, carefully pulling out his fancy looking camera before pressing a button to turn it on. “I love taking pictures for a number of reasons, but I think the best part of the whole thing is that I’m able to go through my older pictures and have all these memories from those moments come back to me.”

He puts the camera against his eye and points at Louis, and before the shorter one can even react, he hears a ‘click’, and Harry’s smiling down at the screen of his camera.

“And I don't think I want to forget about the day I got stranded in a cabin with a pretty stranger,” he finishes off.

Prompt 111: Louis and Harry are strangers that somehow got stranded during a blizzard. They find themselves in an abandoned cabin and have to cuddle for warmth. Cuddling leads to much more.

🌲 Cabin Fever by @germericangirl {E, 46k}

“What the fuck is he doing here?“ He asked still looking at him, before he turned back to look at Niall for an answer.

Niall’s mouth fell open and he looked at him with wide eyes "He um changed his mind?“

Harry stared at Niall for a few seconds in silence, before grabbing a bag and walking towards a bedroom without looking at anyone else, slamming the door shut behind himself.

Liam flinched in front of Louis.

“Well I’m happy to see you too.“ Louis mumbled, some of the tension leaving his body. This wasn’t exactly how he thought their first meeting would go. It was quiet for a moment before Louis finally spoke up “Did you seriously not tell him I was coming?“

Or: One cabin, one bed, two ex-boyfriends. What could possibly go wrong?

🌲 Snow Job by @duchesskitty16 {E, 42k}

Harry is a world famous rock star who is closeted and never gives interviews. Louis is a failed novelist and reporter for a gossip magazine that has fallen on hard times. Louis is promised a promotion if he can get the ultimate get - an interview with Harry Styles. Louis finds out that Harry has a mountain cabin near where his friends Zayn and Niall live and heads up to try and meet him. In a twist of fate, Louis has an accident and Harry saves him. Will Louis get his story, or will the fact that he's falling in love change things? Will Harry forgive him when he finds out Louis is lying to him? Will Harry find the courage to come out of the closet and finally be happy?

🌲 too much, but it’s enough by @ohpleaselarry {E, 40k}

There are about a thousand things Louis wishes he could go back in time and fix. A thousand things, and nearly all of them include Harry.

There are the more simple things, like showing him more support, telling him it’s okay to be himself, gently reminding him that a condom in his pocket is rather obvious in skinny jeans, but if he could just choose one thing, just one to change, he’d probably just have told the lad he loves him.

Always has. And always will.

🌲 Something As Simple As This by frenchkiss {E, 34k}

Trapped in a cabin in the middle of nowhere after a blizzard derails Louis from getting home, he and the attractive stranger who owns the place have nothing to do but... well, each other. It would be a real shame if feelings got in the way, and even more of a shame if a secret about this stranger's identity turned both their lives upside down and inside out.

🌲 Etched in Salt (is a cathedral of the world) by @helloamhere {E, 24k}

Louis asks for very few things in life, and they are: to solve cases, to keep bad people from doing their bad things, to get good coffee, to go home to a spacious apartment with nobody else in it, and to manage his stupid telempathy powers with minimal interference. And now he's stuck in a tiny cabin in a snowstorm in the middle of god-awful-nowhere with Harry Styles. Because of course he is.

🌲 you’re the habit that i can’t break by @ohpleaselarry {NR, 24k}

The boys decide to have a belated band reunion, just the five of them. One week, one cabin in the mountains, five boys.

Harry and Louis haven’t spoken sober in a year.

🌲 An Aurora Grove Christmas by @dandelionfairies {T, 17k}

Harry gets lost on his way to St. Louis. The roads are horrid because of the snow and he ends up spinning into a ditch. Lucky for him, he finds a cabin nearby, as well as a cute blue-eyed man who immediately helps him. Unfortunately, his car is stuck for the night, but at least he has a place to stay with Louis. With the snow continuing to fall and another storm front coming through, will he ever make it out of Aurora Grove? Does he even want to?

🌲 The fic where Harry calls Louis an idiot for ten days straight because he is one. by @mercurial-madhouse {M, 16k}

They’ve found the perfect get away from their busy lives as nationally-famous footie player and well-respected restaurant critic, escaping to the isolation of a cabin in the woods where they can simply be Louis and Harry.

If only both were actually here.

A gift forgotten in London, the untameable force of the weather, and the scent of burnt snickerdoodle biscuits find Harry and Clifford pitifully alone and Louis... Where is Louis?

🌲 Darling, Just Hold My Hand by likelarry {E, 10k}

Louis and Harry decide to spend a week at a skii resort with their families during the Christmas holidays.

On Christmas night, Harry goes into labor but the family gets snowed in which forces him to give birth in the cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Luckily, his husband is a surgeon who can help.

🌲 heaps of blankets by gemma {E, 7k}

You know when you and the one you love go for a not-so-adventurous adventure? And you do everything that's crazy, everything you want and just enjoy each other's company? That's Harry's plan when he rents a cabin at a resort in the mountains for him and Louis.

🌲 Orchids by talasArchivesx / @talasarchive {M, 7k}

“Do you find me sensible yet?” Twenty-two letters and six words, yet it lingers on Louis’ mind like an old song playing from a worn cassette. Such a memory holds so much significance it visits Louis’ mind every unsuspecting moment.

The words are a dreamy reminder of such precious seconds of his life.

A story about losing against the drifting tide, and finally coming home; featuring a cabin, winter blizzard and “one bed”.

🌲 Let It Snow by @jaerie {E, 6k}

With a blizzard approaching, Louis planned to spend his birthday with a drink and a good book. In his self exile at his remote cabin, he never expected a poorly dressed stranger to show up shivering and covered in snow. He also didn’t expect to have one of his best birthdays on record.

🌲 wish i knew how to break this spell by eleadore {E, 6k}

Maybe it should be more of a surprise to open the door and find Harry wrapped up in about a dozen blankets, face pink from the cold and soft from sleep. It isn’t.

Harry, Louis, and a cabin. It's cold outside.

🌲 Strange Trails by bananazine {G, 4k}

After one of Harry Style's third-years lost their favourite hat on a class hike, Harry goes back the next day to retrieve it. To his demise, a downpour of rain strikes, forcing him to search for shelter. He runs without a stop towards the nearest clearing and his prayers get answered when he sees an old hunting cabin. With trepidation slowing his steps, he finally makes it towards the presumably vacant cabin. Though, to be polite, he knocks, only to be faced by the bluest eyes he has ever seen.

🌲 (not) driving home for christmas by BeautifulWisdom / @justanotherghostblr {T, 3k}

Spending the holidays alone at his cabin, driving through a snowstorm Harry hits an animal. He takes the large dog back to his cabin to see if he can keep it alive until the storm breaks and he can get to a vet. Colour him surprised and woefully unprepared when said dog turns into a very bloody and very naked man.

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hdiabolical · 3 months

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I don't know your rules so I hope this is ok.

Homelander being bored one day and finding boxes full of your old things that your parents kept and he can't pass up on an opportunity to learn more snoop about you. He finds old teddy bears/ drawings/ pictures. Ya know, the typical nick knacks that a proud parent thinks they might be useful someday. It mads him a bit sad that he missed out on so many 'just being a kid' moments but he is enjoying the glimpses that he finds when he sees you in your little league uniform or you soaking wet with a big grin on your face at some waterpark.

You eventually find him all surrounded by memories and see the glassy look in his eyes, you just can't help but crawl in his lap and comfort him. You talk about some of the stuff you guys find, laughing at some. You tell him you promise to make as many happy memories for Ryan and by extension him in the future.

Again, sorry if this is not what you were looking for. Please ignore this or DM me if you want something specific. My brain worms are always a wigglin'.

You finally agreed to move in with Homelander a few months ago. More of a formality, since you already lived in his penthouse most of the time. Yet your parents were so delighted—it was funny, actually, how enchanted they were with him. Their baby girl with America's hero! And he was a charmer too!

Though you lacked for nothing in his house, your parents kept sending housewarming gifts; just trinkets, silly things. Two pairs of white slippers with red stars in them—that one had warranted a full-blown laugh from both of you.

A blue blanket your father had knitted—that one left Homelander at a loss of words. He stared at it for a moment, then silently put it in the bed.

And the boxes! Four boxes filled with knick-knacks; mementos from your childhood and teenage years you were unsure if it'd make Homelander uncomfortable, so… It's not like you hid them (as if you could hide anything from him, anyway), more put them in the very back of your closet and chose not to speak much of it, only mentioned in passing.

“My parents sent even more stuff! Can you believe it?”

The next day, as you left for work, Homelander decided to snoop. It wasn't even snooping, really. You lived with him, you shared it all. And, c’mon, you were an open book. He could read you in a second, knew each flicker of your eyes, every change of breath, the way you scrunched up your nose unconsciously.

He opened every box, sitting on the floor, surrounded by glimpses of your childhood. A picture of you, in your little league uniform, all smiley and proud. A kind of an ugly drawing of what he supposed was meant to be you and your parents. An enormous, threadbare shark plushie you once said was your favorite thing when you were seven.

It was all so mundane—yet his eyes prickled. This was something he'd never be able to share with you.

So lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't notice you'd already come back, and was walking toward the bedroom.

“Hey, you,” you whispered softly. Your chest contracted painfully when you noticed his glassy eyes. It was an effort not to cry too.

“Hey, babe.” He laughed, but it felt hollow. “Juuuust checking some things you tried hiding from me, missy.” He wiggled his finger in your direction in faux annoyance, but you saw it for what it was.

“Baby…” You crawled towards him, sitting in his lap, touching his cheek. “I didn't want to hide it, I just didn't want to upset you.”

“Why would I be upset?” He snorted, now holding a picture of you when you were thirteen.

You groaned.

“Please laser this right now.”

“Why? You look so… cute.” You tried to snatch it from him, but he wouldn't let it. “Awnnn, look at those buck teeth. You look like a rabbit.” He snickered.

“You mean, mean man!” But you giggled too.

As you found more pictures and drawings, and even one Homelander plushie—that he'd never let you live it down—the mood slowly lightened, and you both laughed as you told him all your embarrassing childhood stories. You knew your parents would tell him all anyway.

After a while, you were just laying down in each other's arms, sharing languid kisses in peaceful quietness.

“You know,” you murmured, fingers caressing his hair. “One day, you'll have all of this too. With me, with Ryan, with our future babies. We'll be the happiest family in the entire world.”

He then held your face so tenderly, eyes glassy again—but those were happy tears, a gentle smile on his face.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you more.”

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander fanfiction #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys x reader #asks #slasher-smasher #requests #i loveeed this request!#i really hope you like it #and it's what you had in mind #my first hl request fic im so nervous lol #my writing

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ickypuppi3 · 28 days

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billy’s mom waking him up while it’s still dark, whispering even though neil’s working the night shift. it’s a couple days before his tenth birthday and she’s telling him they’re going to have their very own adventure, just like the ones in billy’s books. she grabs an already packed suitcase from under billy’s bed and kisses him on the nose, tells him to get dressed quick. the two of them leave in an old beat up yellow bug that she managed to get for a third of the asking price and keep parked around the corner until now. they stay with friends and jump from place to place so neil can’t track them down. billy gets used to surfing couches and staying in motels.

he spends his tenth birthday in a diner, his mom gets him a big stack of pancakes and a milkshake with extra cherries. gets a candle out her pocket along with her silver lighter. sings happy birthday and pulls a face when the waitress frowns at them, just to make billy laugh. she sips at her coffee while billy tucks in. smiles when he holds some out with a “c’mon mama, share with me.”

billy thinks it’s neat. thinks it’s the best birthday he’s ever had.

they eventually end up with a place in california, a little bungalow near the coast and billy grows up with his mom. billy gets pretty shirts from the thrift store ‘cause his mama lets him do stuff like that. doesn’t call him a queer, doesn’t force a baseball bat into his hands whilst yelling at him for crying, for being a pussy. his mom lets him read and keep a journal and press flowers between the pages of the neverending story, she plays hendrix and dusty springfield and laughs when billy comes home from his friends’ house with his first piercing at thirteen. she doesn’t tear down his posters or yell when she finds him using her eyeliner.

and everything’s perfect. sort of.

they have bad days- billy’s mom has bad days. billy calls them gray days ‘cause that’s how the world looks when she’s like this. all her color gone. no singing-dancing in the kitchen or baking five different kinds of cake because she couldn’t decide which one was best, no last minute trips to the beach or sitting outside at night and telling billy about the stars. instead she’ll stay in bed, won’t go to work. she’ll stare at the wall blankly and look right through billy when he tries to talk to her. she won’t take the pills the doc gave her and billy doesn’t know what to do. never knows what to do. just chews at his lip until it bleeds, bites at his thumb until it’s red raw. he’ll get in the bed with her. lay beside her and just talk like she used to do with him when he had a nightmare. hum a song to her.

billy’s still pissed at the world just slightly less so. still has that anger and anxiousness simmering just below the surface and shows his teeth when cornered. he’s still hardened in a way that a kid shouldn’t be but. it’s different. there’s no neil. the only bloody noses he gets are at school, when he fights with the kids who call him a fag and a fairy, call his mom a basket case. he uses fists when they laugh and ask if she’s all there with a finger pointing at their heads, ask if billy will “catch the crazy.”

those are billy’s bad days. sitting in the principals office, icing his knuckles.

when he’s fifteen, billy manages to bag a job at the local auto repair by turning up every day and telling howie how good he’d be, that he knows cars and it’s all he wants to do and please please please. eyebrows pulled together, eyes puppy dog wide and hands clasped in front of him until howie grumbles, throws an oily rag at billy. says fine but billy’s gotta pay for anything he damages. someone brings in a chevy camaro and billy asks howie to let him help fix it up. does the begging again until howie laughs. says get a hold of yourself, kid, voice fond as he ruffles billy’s hair.

billy’s four months away from turning seventeen when the doorbell goes. he’s eating a sandwich and watching knight rider. he’s wearing the necklace his mom got him for his last birthday and- he answers the door. doesn’t think twice. freezes when he sees neil standing there. he looks different. hair a little shorter and more wrinkles. where billy’s gained weight, gained muscle, neil’s lost it. his eyes are a little sunken and he’s still got his wedding band on. he reeks of booze. billy has to remind himself to speak, just says “yeah?” his voice comes out small and neil smiles at him. smiles and billy feels this weird twist in his stomach ‘cause .. that’s his dad and he hasn’t seen him in years and it twists and twists and-

turns out. not much has changed. billy realises a little too late that neil will always be neil. they run again. have to leave everything behind. billy doesn’t get to say bye to his friends, to howie, to the car. they leave a lot of stuff behind and head in any direction away from neil. they both try to keep the mood light, take turns driving and play the tapes billy grabbed. they end up in indiana- hawkins. they stay at a motel until billy’s mom finds a place for dirt cheap. it has two bedrooms and a dingy bathroom, a living room slash kitchen and one hell of a damp problem. it’s dirt cheap for a reason.

it’s above a shop in town and- it’s fine. their landlord is an asshole but they’re together and they’ve got a roof over their heads. billy’s enrolled at hawkins high and his mom gets a job at the laundromat. he tells her that he doesn’t need to go to school, that he could just work and help pay the bills but his mom won’t have any of it. says that she wishes she had finished school and that billy’s too clever to waste it. that he has potential.

billy knows the reason she dropped out of school was because she had him. he just nods, rests his head on her shoulder.

it’s billy’s first day at school and his mom drives him to make sure he actually goes. he gets out the car and tries to shake the nerves off. straightens up and puts on his act. plasters a fake smile on his face and it’s working, he’s got most of the girls swooning and the boys at least seem curious. billy looks around and his eyes land on a guy leaning up against a bmw. his hair’s coiffed to high heaven and he’s wearing a polo, preppy as fuck but- pretty. it’s one of the first things billy realises about him, all doe eyes and moles dotted just about everywhere. he’s got a smirk on his face. not aimed at billy but the guy beside him.

pretty-boy walks over to him and billy raises an eyebrow, plays it cool. he introduces himself as steve and billy gets the idea that he’s top dog at hawkins high, is immediately proved right when they step into the building. king steve, freckles calls him. billy laughs- catches steve looking at him when he does and feels his face get hot. steve just smiles wider, calls billy california and tells him to sit with them at lunch. billy tries to ignore the way steve’s smile makes him feel like the rug’s been pulled out from under his feet.

he nods and steve grins. tugs at one of billy’s curls.

says “i think you’re gonna like it here, california.”

#it got away from me i fear #billy has to live somewhere else at the start and then they move to california i don’t care he needs to be there with his mom for the #majority of the time he just has to #he Is california ! what else am i supposed to do here he needs it #makes hawkins that much worse #he’s best friends with argyle but he doesn’t get to say bye !#billy’s first kiss is with a girl but the second the one he counts is with a boy and his mama knows he’s gay also #probably argyle if we’re being real #my words #billy hargrove #billy’s mom #harringrove #cw slurs #cw mental illness #spinning in circles i just need mamas boy billy and king steve so bad #mamas boy billy & king steve

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