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#this became very rant-y oops
meganslife · 1 month
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Pen pals - p. parker (part two)
read part one here !!
pairing; TASM! Peter Parker x Fem!reader
summary: after peter and you exchange phone numbers, he finds himself yearning for you. it only gets worse after a long night of you partying. but drunk words are sober thoughts, right?
warnings: none!:3
a/n: i love love love writing this series so the second part has come very quickly. anyway, make sure to read the first part if you haven’t already!! happy reading!!<3
Peter doesn’t know when or how, but he became addicted to listening to you talk. You had so many things to say- so many beautiful words coming out of your equally beautiful mouth. He couldn’t believe you had such a soothing voice, not that he expected anything less.
God, he was down horrendously.
You both were on Facetime. Peter listens to you talk about your friends as you get ready for a long night of partying. He never thought you’d like parties, but he doesn’t care that he was wrong. He likes that calling you every day gives him more to know about you. He figures that you get outside more once it gets warmer. Spring was blooming. You and Peter had been talking every day on the phone for three months.
“Yeah, and like, Anna is great and all, but she’s so mean!” You rant, finishing up your makeup. Peter nods, watching in awe. Do you even know how pretty you are? “Peter, are you listening?”
“What?” Peter snaps out of his thoughts, “Yeah, sorry. I’m just tired.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I can let you go. It’s like, 11 pm over there,” You pick up your phone, almost saying goodbye before Peter interjects.
“No, don’t hang up,” He says quickly, “I like watching you get ready. It makes me feel closer to you.”
Peter can see your cheeks turn pink. You’re embarrassed, and he could cry in your lap with how much his heart is fluttering.
“Okay,” You smile, positioning your phone so Peter could see your outfit. “What do you think?”
Peter wants to fly to Seattle and worship the ground you walk on like right now.
“You look lovely,” He grins from ear to ear. “Is that a new top? It’s fun.”
It was a basic tube top. Nothing special to you, but very special to Peter. He knew that you got insecure, so the fact that you were willing to wear this while going out made his heart feel full.
“Yeah,” You nod, giddy. “Maria got it for me.”
Peter and you talk for a little while longer. He wants it to last forever. But, eventually, you say you have to go.
“Text me when you get home?” Peter asks.
“Sure, but you’ll be sleeping,” You tease.
He scoffs, “And you’ll be drunk. I’m staying up for you.”
“Whatever,” You laugh. “Bye, Pete!”
“Bye, Y/N.”
Peter holds his phone to his chest once you hang up.
One day, he’ll tell you.
~
Peter wakes up at three in the morning to his phone blowing up. He groans, putting on his glasses and squinting at his phone in a poor attempt to adjust to the brightness.
He sees that you’ve been texting him and calling him. To this, he smiles. He forgot to stay up for you. Oops.
Your texts are furious and poorly written. You’ve definitely been drinking.
‘PETER BENJAMIN PARKER’
‘PETEY’
‘Oh my god pleas ansswr.’
*3 missed calls*
‘Pls pete i’m drunk and desperate’
‘Go to bed and drink some water, babe.’
‘Hehehe babe. You’re so cute.’
‘Call me? Ppleas? I miss uou.’
Peter sighs, face red and burning hot.
When he calls, you answer not even one ring after he calls.
“Did you get home safe?” Peter immediately asks.
“Jeez. Not even a hello?”
“I have priorities.”
“I got home fine, cutie,” You giggle.
Peter thinks you’ll be the death of him.
“How much did you drink, bug?” He sighs, “You should go to bed. Don’t you have work tomorrow?”
You groan over the line, and Peter laughs. He wishes he was with you in person to see this.
“You’re so boring, Pete! I have priorities too, you know.” You insist. Peter is imagining your dramatic pout.
“Oh yeah? What are they?”
“Go to Queens and hug you.”
Peter wants to cry. He knows you’re very drunk, but he read somewhere that drunk words are sober thoughts. He really hopes that you’re being genuine. Maybe you think about him as much as he thinks about you.
“We… We can talk about this another time,” Peter suggests. “Sometime when you’re sober.”
“Okay,” You say, accepting defeat. “My head hurts. I’m gonna go.”
“Alright,” Peter manages a smile, even though you can’t see it. “Goodnight, honey. Sleep well.”
“Bye! See you soon!”
See you soon.
See you soon.
See you soon.
In his dreams.
— read about me and find my masterlist here <3
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wrenreid · 2 years
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Just Acting
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18+ advised for this story | chapters in master list
Chapter Three
It's late Saturday morning, and you're sitting up on your couch. You fell asleep there last night again.
The weekend will be boring and workless; which really sucks because you have this thing where if you're not busy, you get down and in your head.
Not entirely sure what else to do, you make your way to the bathroom and turn on the shower. You make sure the water is just warm enough to not be too chilled before you undress and step under the rushing water.
After washing your short(ish) medium brown hair, you push it behind your ears to get it out of your face. You soap and lather your body before shaving and rinsing one more time. You step out reluctantly and dry off before wrapping the towel around your body.
You get dressed in black jeans, sneakers, and a blue button up blouse tucked into your pants. After blow drying your hair, you straighten the natural waves down. Your hair lays softly against your shoulders, reaching just at your color bone.
To keep from being locked up in the house until the dinner tomorrow night, you head out for coffee. You drive down a few blocks to Dunkin. What it's LA? Everyone's basic. After ordering one glazed donut and a caramel iced coffee, you sit down and enjoy your breakfast while scrolling through social media.
Dunkin Donuts is always busy, so a crowd of people come and go even just throughout the short time you're there.
"Hey, Y/n! Haven't seen you in a while!"
"Oh hey Jess!" You say as she sits down across from you. Jess became one of your first friends in LA when you came to Dunkin the first time. She has just started working there part time and was immediately friendly. She was also super shocked when you finally told her why you were in LA months later.
"What've you been up to?" Jess asks, flashing you a bright smile.
"Just filming..."
"Oh yeah you guys got renewed! So fun, huh?!" You love how she's always been super enthusiastic about her friends' lives. Jess was really just a kind hearted person, although it was very funny when she would get angry at a rude costumer.
"Yeah it's been great, except for you know who,” you say, eyes dramatically cutting at the last words.
Jess stops coiling a curly strand of hair around her finger. "Oh come on! He can't be that bad. He's like super hot."
"Ew!” You give her a look of discussed. “I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that."
She laughs, her white teeth contrasting with her gorgeous dark skin. Jess is a beautiful goddess who always wears bold bright makeup and lets her curly afro fly.
"He is that bad, J. He's an arrogant asshole," you inform her, eyebrows furrowed.
"You're pathetic," she chuckles softly. "But fine fine, if you say Matthew's that bad I'll believe you. But that won't stop me from simping for Spencer Reid."
You roll your eyes at her, but you understand. Before you were on the show, you also were a Spencer Reid simp. "I don't know that new character Delilah's pretty hot.” Your lips turn up into a sky grin.
"Oh definitely," Jess shoots you a wink. "Ya know, if you ever need anyone to rant to, maybe about the new season, I'm here."
"I hope you're not using me for Criminal Minds info,” you say, cocking an eyebrow.
She chuckles, "Nah you know, I wouldn’t use you. I love you too much for that.”
"Love you too,” you grin softly.
"Oop, I gotta go,” she says, checking her apple watch. “Break's over.”
You wave goodbye before throwing away your trash and leaving the building. It's nice to have a friend in Los Angeles. Of course, you have your castmates, but they're most of the time forced to hang out with you due to work.
Speaking of castmates, tomorrow is the dinner for the cast to celebrate the new season. It was delayed multiple times because of everyone's busy schedule, but you all finally found a date for it.
You all are going to be reserving a table at a nice-casual restaurant. Which means it’s not fast food, but not fine dining.
While pulling out of the parking lot, you realize how nerve wracking the event will be. You're going to be at a big dinner table with pretty much the entire cast, and you're just a minor cast member. Anxiety decides to make you worry about something you probably shouldn’t once again.
You pull into the small parking lot of the bookstore you love. It's retro and calming and smells like a fall evening all year long. The bookstore is a small building about 40 minutes from your apartment, but nonetheless you like to visit at least every few months. It's owned by an old widow with a kind smile.
You enter the building, taking in the smell of leaves and apple cider. The dark lit bookstore's walls are framed with fairy lights and a few old timey lamps, setting the calming mood.
"Hello!"
"Hey! How are you doing, Dorothy?” You asks with a smile.
"Fine dear, and you?" She sits on your stool behind the counter stacked with books people have returned or books Dorothy might've been reading. She’s probably the most adorable old woman ever.
"Just fine as well," you give the nice older lady a smile and make your way to the isles.
Some people may say you're a little tense, but walking through this little bookstore and reading the stories on the shelves helps you calm down. It reminded you of your small town in Pennsylvania during autumn.
You sit down on the bing-bag chair underneath a soft-lit lamp and begin reading a book you've read a million times before. You rarely actually buy a book from the store, just rent them so that somebody else can enjoy it too.
This reminds you of when you'd cuddle up between your parents and they'd read to you, or when your little sister couldn't sleep at night, so she'd crawl up in your bed and make you read her a story. You missed those times, the times when Lola was young and cuddly, and your dad wasn't disappointed in your choices.
After a while, you decide it's time to head back to your apartment. By the time you get back home, it's 5pm. You decide to order some groceries and have them delivered. Your excuse was because it's LA and there's always so much traffic, but the truth was that you'd already taken off your pants.
You order a few things that you can eat as snacks or make meals with for the next few days. When it arrives, you make a big salad with veggies, chicken, and whatever else you decide to throw in it to spice it up.
After talking on the phone with your mom and Lola, you decide it's time to turn in for the night and head to bed.
(i promise it’ll be more interesting when we’re more into the story)
chapter four
tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @reidsprettygirl @awhoreforspencerreid
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https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeSe16Bo/ I thought you'd like this, it has big g/t vibes and fits with the while giant alien obsession you have.-🔥
HSAJHDJSJD THIS IS BASICALLY A SPECIES SWAP IF JACOB WAS THE ONE PART CAT AND EDIX WAS JUST A DUDE WHO ONLY EARNED THIS TINY THING’S TRUST BECAUSE HE KEPT THROWING PIECES OF HAM AT IT UNTIL IT CAME CLOSE ENOUGH TO PET
also I was about to refute the fact I have a giant alien obsession before looking one tab on my desktop over and seeing an open Google Docs with the beginnings of a new giant alien story oops
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Overworked
Summary: Being ill and having an unrelenting work load wasn't a great combo, but the Avengers help you out.
Word Count: 3148
Warnings: Throwing up?
A/N: Oof ok, so my aim was just a short, fluffy story about the Avengers being all comforting and stuff since I was ill and had a lot of work. Then I started writing and I clearly have a lot of thoughts and it kind of became a rant about university workloads. oops.
(Also since this is set in America I know it should be College but I can't bring myself to say that)
—————————————————
A good night’s sleep was tough to get as a student, what with late nights working and 9am lectures that required you up and out of the house at least half an hour beforehand so that you’d get to them in time.
The weekend was supposed to be your reprieve, no early mornings, no new work, just a chance to lie in and catch up. Or it should be. This weekend, unfortunately, was anything but.
You had an assignment due Wednesday, a difficult set of calculations that you and all your friends on the course had been struggling to solve. (Not working together of course, because that would be cheating).
Since it was a Friday night, and you'd just had a full day of lectures, you promised yourself that Saturday was going to be the day you'd crack on and finish the problems. Lying in bed however, that didn't look like it would be the case. Pain shot through your stomach intermittently, and the feeling of nausea, and whole body numbness just couldn't be shaken.
You whimpered and clutched your stomach. You felt weak. A simple stomach ache was all it took? your family were the Avengers for goodness sake, none of them would succumb to illness this light. It was a fight to repress the pain. A fight you were losing, and you weren't sleeping because of it.
A glance at your phone. 3:24 AM. A sorry sign given that you'd gone to bed at midnight. With a huff you got up, instantly squatting to the ground to lessen the pain that was realised with it. Then, slowly, you left your university room and headed to the bathroom, leaning over the toilet bowl for a whole five minutes before finally throwing up.
You were in tears by this stage, but it helped. And not long after you were back in bed and falling asleep.
12:00. The panic set in as you saw the time. For a university student it might not have been particularly late, but to you it felt like half the day had been wasted, half the day where you could have caught up on work.
You rushed to get up, and worked out that you were very much still ill. A quick bowl of cereal did nothing to help, and you found yourself back in your room, knees tucked up under your chin as you sat at your desk, staring blankly at all the work you had yet to do.
In prioritising the assignment, you'd let several important worksheets go undone, three weeks' worth stacking up, and the longer you left it the more there would be. Not to mention all the lecture notes that had gone without being written up. It seemed like an impossible challenge to catch up, there simply wasn't enough time in the day for that.
Tears welled up yet again. You weren't cut out for this. This was content aimed at students and you were struggling! There were the kind of things you'd have to be doing every day for work if you continued in the field. Only that work would be even harder. How would you manage?
As an adult now, you should be able to handle being sick on your own. But you still wanted to talk to your family, at least let them know that you weren't feeling great. Hopefully they wouldn't accuse you of playing for sympathy when obviously they couldn't help you out over the phone.
Natasha was your first choice, given that she was the one who legally signed on as your guardian, even if all the Avengers took on the role. Plus she also answered the phone the most.
"Hey Y/N, what's up?" she asked. It was a video call, but she didn't seem to have seen the state of you yet. She was definitely distracted.
"Hi Nat" you smiled, even if she wasn't looking, "are you busy?"
"I'm just on a mission ri-, Y/N/N have you been crying? are you okay?" her expression changed completely the second she looked down; from a faint smile to total concern.
"I can call back later if you're on a mission, I don't want to disturb you"
"no, no, not at all. It's just a stakeout with Clint, he's manning the watch right now so I'm free", with that she flipped the camera around, giving you a view of Clint slumped on the floor, eyes focused on screen in front of him. He looked up briefly and gave you a wave. "So what's up? Properly."
"I dunno, I'm just a bit ill and I wanted to call"
"ill? oh no, what kind of ill?" you had her full attention now, the concerned face of a Russian assassin filling your screen.
You shrugged glumly, "I threw up last night, and I don't feel great" you explained, "and I was up at half three this morning which meant I slept in really late and I've just wasted most of today when I should be doing work. I have so much work." The tears began to fall again as you spoke. In reality, they'd been coming ever since Natasha showed concern; you missed living with her, and all the others.
"Y/N, it's ok, it's ok. Sleep is more important than school work anyway when you're ill-"
"but I have that assignment due Wednesday"
"lucky today isn't Wednesday then" she smirked, "you'll work better if you feel better, and if you're still sick later then you can ask for an extension. Or we can get Tony to ask, you know they can never turn down Tony."
You chuckle lightly through the tears. It was true. The university wouldn't turn down a request from any Avenger really. But with the degree you were doing, Tony was the role model every student and professor wanted to be, there was no chance they'd refuse him.
“How about this though, okay? Clint and I are almost done on this mission, we’ll come pick you up in the jet and bring you home for a couple of days. Help you feel a bit better and Tony or Bruce can work with you to catch up on your work.”
“That sounds nice” you nodded, adding quietly, “I miss you all”
“I miss you too y/n/n, the whole team does. For now though, take a paracetamol, pack a bag, and we’ll pick you up as soon as we can"
"Alright, I will, love you Nat" you murmured
"Love you too, see you in a bit" she grinned, and with a smile you ended the call.
Obviously the call didn't instantly bring you to perfect health, but mentally at least you began to feel a bit better. The worry of your workload was off of your shoulders, because there was no way that you wouldn't breeze through it with Tony and Bruce's help, the two best academics in the world, and they just happened to be your family.
Plus with Nat and Clint picking you up, that took away the struggle of caring for yourself. You wouldn't have to muster the energy to cook proper meals, or sort yourself out through the sickness.
You did as Natasha had instructed, taking some medicine and packing a weekend bag. The latter wasn't strictly necessary, given you had a whole second set of belongings at your room in the compound, but it contained some comforting items (and some laundry to do back home). Heading into the common room of your flat, you let your flatmates know that you’d be heading home for a bit, and they wished you well. You hadn’t exactly told them that you’d been adopted by the Avengers, so upon receiving Natasha’s ‘we’re almost there’ text, you said goodbye and headed out of the flat to the secluded area you were usually dropped off at. It wasn’t too far from where you lived, but it was away from prying eyes who may notice that the Avengers were in town.
—————————————————
Clint greeted you at the ramp, hauling your bag into a locker for you, then ensuring you were properly strapped in before Natasha brought the jet up.
"Are you feeling any better?" she called from the cockpit,
"A little, the headache is gone... I think. Stomach still hurts though"
"Do you think you'll throw up?" Clint asked, nudging the bucket he had next to him a little closer to you.
You huffed, working the answer out yourself, "probably not"
"Well that's good because I don't want to have to empty that bucket when we land" he joked, and you replied with a strained laugh. Slumping your head back when pain shot through your stomach again.
"Have a lie down Y/N" he advised, "try to sleep, although with Nat flying..." he trailed off, but you giggled all the same, especially when the aforementioned woman threw up a middle finger at the man without even turning.
"With me flying you'll have the smoothest ride of your life, it'll be easy to sleep" Natasha continued, earning a scoff from Clint.
"but it wouldn't even compare to if I was flying"
"yeah, because if you were flying this whole plane would be shaking violently"
"I don't even need to tell you again that I was the best pilot SHIELD had"
"sure. Til I joined"
You smiled at the back and forth, already feeling calmed by the family dynamic you'd grown used to. Curled up on the bench, the sounds of their playful (and longstanding) argument lulled you to sleep; so, before you knew it, the quinjet was beginning it's descent.
"C'mon Y/N/N, up we get. You still feeling okay?" Nat whispered, rousing you from your nap. Clint was already at the ramp, his mission bag and your bag slung over his shoulders, while Nat already carried her own. You nodded, sleepily sitting up and following the duo back to your home. Natasha pulled you into a side hug as she walked, both to help support you and because she missed you. You missed it too, so easily leant in to her hold.
“We didn’t tell the others you were coming, thought it would be a nice surprise for them” she explained, “but after saying hi I think you should head to bed, it’s late. You had dinner, right?”
“Yeah” you nodded
“Good, ok let’s go see the team then”
You stood behind the pair while entering the common room; the whole team was there, watching some film on the TV.
“We’re back” Clint announced, slight annoyance in his voice that none of the team had turned around. You knew it was fake though, he himself had predicted that it would take a while until they realised you were there too.
“Hey Clint, hey Nat, how was the mission?” Tony replied nonchalantly, he knew what he was doing. Steve turned first, a grin spreading on his face as he saw you, though he didn’t comment, warned not to by Nat’s finger on the lips.
“Yeah it went ok, mission was a success, we picked up a stray on the way back though” Natasha teased, smirking at the speed Tony swivelled around, worried they’d brought an animal into the compound unannounced.
“Y/N!” he exclaimed, jumping up and over the sofa to greet you, prompting the rest of the team to do the same. “This is a nice surprise, to what do we owe the pleasure?”
“I didn’t feel great and I just wanted to come home”. Tony jokingly pushed you an arm’s length away, before laughing and pulling you back, “obviously you’re welcome back any time”
“Alright Tones, give the rest of us a chance to say hi, yeah?” Rhodey scolded, pulling his best friend out of the way to greet you, followed by Steve, Thor, and Sam. Wanda hugged you last, excitedly talking you through everything that had happened since you’d last visited, even if you called her and the others everyday. Bruce and Vision were there too, but they both just waved and smiled, greeting you in their own way.
Natasha noticed your yawn and stepped in, “you can catch up properly tomorrow, but you’re ill and it’s midnight so let’s get you to bed”
“alright” you mumbled, “goodnight”
“Night, Y/N” the team echoed, returning to their film as Natasha escorted you to your room.
“You get changed, I’ll get you some water, okay? And if you need anything in the night or feel ill again just come knock on my door, or ask FRIDAY.”
“Thank you Nat”
“Of course. Now get some rest and I’ll see you later” she smiled, returning quickly with a glass of water then leaving and shutting the door softly.
—————————————————
You saw her again sooner than you’d hoped. Just a few hours later and you were awake again, the sickness in your stomach resurfacing. With a groan you made your way to the toilet, leaning over it for what seemed like hours. You sobbed when you threw up, “FRIDAY?” you muttered, “can you get Nat?”
“Of course Y/N”
Not even 30 seconds later, Natasha let herself quietly into your room, knocking on the bathroom door before entering. “I got sick Nat” you murmured,
“Oh honey, it’s okay, how are you feeling now?”
“Still not great”
“Alright, you stay there, I’ll bring your water in. Do you need anything else?”
“No”
She sat on the floor beside you, rubbing your back soothingly. “You know, I did this with Wanda the other day as well, maybe there’s something going around”
“Wanda needed comfort?”
“Everyone needs comfort when they’re ill, even Avengers, it doesn’t make you weaker” Natasha seemed to understand your thoughts, she always did. Knowing exactly the right words to say at all times. “It’s what we’re for, to help you when you’re at your weakest.”
“I missed you Nat”
“I know y/n/n, but you’re back now and we’re around whenever you need. Now if you’re not imminently throwing up, how’s about you try to go to bed, sleep will help you feel a bit better”
“Alright”
“Alright, night love”
“Goodnight, thank you Nat”
“No worries”
—————————————————
The morning after you were feeling a lot better, able to happily eat the pancakes Wanda had made for you and join in with the team’s conversation. On Steve’s request, you promised not to work until later, relaxing without the thought of your work on your mind. And when that later came, Tony instantly volunteered to sit with you as you did it, working on his own project in the lab.
He checked over your calculations, making sure the ones you had done already looked correct, and giving some hints for the questions you had been struggling on. And having FRIDAY was a massive help, it was so much quicker than trawling through the internet or textbooks, and meant you could actually get on with the proper work without getting distracted. You were done in no time, moving on to the worksheets with Tony's help.
He explained each topic to you in a much better way than half of your lecturers, taking the time to ensure you understood it, not just speeding on to the next chapter. And once you understood it, of course the problems became a lot simpler.
It still took a couple of days to catch up, but it was much better than the weeks of work (and probably crying) it would have taken otherwise.
On top of Tony's help, Natasha ensured you both took frequent quick breaks, where you'd go up to the common room to chat with the others. It was good to be back, listening to the others go from serious mission talk to suddenly goofing off or having debates over the most random topics, like the best Mario Kart character. They were a chaotic family, but somehow the most calming presence to you.
And they knew exactly how best to calm you down. "Can you come outside with me?" Wanda asked after the second night, and of course you agreed, following her to the roof of the compound.
You sighed contentedly as you emerged, transfixed by the clear night's sky, stars dotting through the blackness. "I thought you might like to come up" Wanda spoke,
"I always do" you smiled, "one day I want to go somewhere with no light pollution"
"Sokovia used to be like that" Wanda nodded, "it was nice. It also usually meant a country wide blackout but still..."
"That's not something you'll have to worry about here. I bet Stark has several back up generators"
"Yeah probably, but we could always just ask him to turn the lights off, make it a bit better"
You hummed, "he'd do it as well, but then the whole team would be up here"
"and it wouldn't be as peaceful as this" Wanda agreed
"I think Tony would start listing the star names"
"Or Bruce"
"Or Vision"
"No, he likes to just appreciate them" Wanda corrected and you smirked, tilting your head to look at her,
"You two have been stargazing together?"
"I- n- I mean, yeah, as friends, like you and I do"
With a scoff you looked back up at the sky, "you have a crush" you sang teasingly, "he has a crush on you too, you know? That's why you always get special treatment from him"
"No I do not"
"Don't deny it, I talked with Nat about it and she agreed"
"She did? I mean, why were you talking about me and Vision, surely there's better things to talk about"
"Nah, it was a pressing topic, and we talk about a lot of things"
"I thought I'd find you two up here" a new voice cut through, and both you and Wanda sat straight up, feeling like you'd been caught. "You're not in trouble, Jeez, why do you both look like that? Were you talking about me?"
"No" "Not at all Nat" you and Wanda answered quickly, making the assassin narrow her eyes,
"that's suspicious, but I'll let it slide. I was just wondering where you two were"
"Just looking at the stars"
"Ooh, budge up, I'm joining"
You moved slightly, though 'budge up' seemed redundant, given there was the whole roof to lie on. Natasha decided to squish between you and Wanda, and you rested your head on her shoulder, noting the witch doing the same on the other side.
There was a comfortable silence, just resting with perhaps your two favourite family members, not that you'd ever admit it to anyone. But then Natasha broke the silence, pointing at a certain star,
"You see that bright star? that's Sirius, the dog star, and around it is the Canis Major constellation"
You lifted your head up slightly, making eye contact with Wanda and smirking.
"We forgot to list Nat"
"How could we forget to list Nat"
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spxllcxstxr · 3 years
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Cold to Cozy • R.L
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(Gif not mine)
Request: oshdskdhkshs what about Remus being really patient, loving and gentle with the reader who’s insecure and anxious to open up to sb and be with someone after she had just got out of the toxic relationship? Sorry for my English. Love you so much. — anon
Summary: After a rough break up, you wind up at the top of the Astronomy Tower in the middle of the night. Remus joins you.
Warnings: toxic relationship mention (not with Remus), more along the lines of emotional abuse, not physical, crying, but it’s mentioned and Remus comes to comfort you, but please stay safe
Word Count: 1.1k
A.N: Relationships are hard to write when you’ve never been in one. I hope I did this request justice! Could be read as platonic since it’s more focused on like comfort and not really a relationship, but who knows? Read how you’d like to! I think gn!reader. I also still don’t know how to end these things oops. Hope you enjoy, and I love you all ❤️
****
You don’t remember why you even started dating William Mulciber in the first place.
It was a well known fact that he was a bigoted asshole, and anyone with a brain wouldn’t even touch him with a ten foot pole. The only friends he had were Avery, Rosier, and Snape, and even those three needed a break from him sometimes.
But he made you feel wanted in some twisted way—at least at first.
He would flirt with you in class and stare at you across the room instead of getting assignments done. Mulciber would comment on your figure, mostly lewd remarks that had your eyes widen in shock. But he assured you that these were compliments, and who were you to say otherwise, especially in public when all eyes were focused on you?
You’d get embarrassed and duck your head towards the ground as he and his little group laughed at whatever crude joke your little admirer thought of this time.
But he was the only boy to ever outwardly express any sort of interest in you so you felt obligated to accompany him to Hogsmede. And after your little date, even though you realized that the two of you didn’t really have anything in common and he did enough talking for the both of you, you felt obligated to kiss him in front of the entrance to the Slytherin common room.
And your relationship with him was fine for about a whole two seconds before it became damaging to your entire being.
So that’s why after only a few months of being berated and judged by someone who persuaded you that it was all out of love, your relationship, if that’s what you would call it, ended after hours of shouting and flinging insults at each other.
It’s also the reason you’re crying into your house scarf at the top of the Astronomy Tower in the middle of the cold night.
The wind bites harshly at your exposed flesh, your fingers frozen and the tips of your ears completely numb.
Your legs dangle over the side, arms looped securely around the brass banister as your tears drip into your scarf.
The striped fabric is useful in muffling any rogue sobs that manage to escape.
“Rough night?”
The soft questioning voice coming from behind you has you furiously wiping your face in an attempt to look somewhat composed.
“You could say that.” Your voice cracks as the person sits next to you.
Glancing over you can tell it’s Remus, the sleeves of his thick blue jumper bunched up around his hands. He’s shivering very slightly, but is otherwise unbothered by the weather.
He nods silently, and you can hear your teeth chatter. Shyly, you bite your lip in an attempt to stop.
“I heard about you and Mulciber.” Remus speaks up, glancing at you before quickly looking back up at the cloudy sky.
“Oh yeah?” You snort, staring at his scarred face. “And what exactly did you hear?”
Remus looks back at you, the whites of his eyes illuminated in the blue glow coming from the tip of his wand.
“That you’re, and I quote, ‘a cheating bitch.’” He rolls his eyes.
“Oh yeah, because talking to Davey Gudgeon about our upcoming Herbology project is categorized as cheating, and him snogging that sixth year behind the Quidditch shed isn’t.” You scoff, balling your fists around your scarf in anger.
Of course he was spreading lies about you to make himself look like the victim. He was never in the wrong and you always were.
“That’s terrible.” You hear him shift closer to you.
“Yeah, well, that isn’t even the worst of it.” You mumble under your breath, a frown tugging at your lips.
“You don’t deserve that, (Y/n).” He tells you softly.
“But—“
“No, no one deserves the utter shit he put you through, alright?” Remus insists fiercely.
Your throat tightens as you turn your gaze down to your fingers. Nervously, you rub them together, trying to defrost them in order to find feeling again.
“You do know that, don’t you? That what he made you deal with wasn’t love?” Remus continues to press.
Noncommittally, you offer him a shrug, still avoiding those warm honey brown eyes of his.
“I’m sorry, I’m being a little too forward, aren’t I?” Remus sputters at your lack of response. “I just get so frustrated thinking about how he treated you, but if I’m overstepping—“
“No, no, it’s fine, Remus, really.” Finally, you look up, waving away his unnecessary panic. “Just...he was my first...everything, y’know? I think he’s ruined love for me.”
Remus’ face falls at your meek response. His sandy curls wave in the wind and you watch as he tries and fails to tame them behind his ears.
“Love isn’t whatever rubbish he gave you, (Y/n). Love is this warm and cozy feeling that makes you want to wake up in the morning. And makes you want to run around laughing in the pouring rain.” He rambles, marred hands waving around as he talks. “It’s a breath of fresh air and a million little kisses in the middle of the night. Honestly, I wish I could be a little more poetic, but it’s almost midnight and my brain is fried after that Potions exam.”
He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.
“No Remus, that was—that was beautiful. It certainly wasn’t what we had.” You smile at him, something you haven’t done in ages at this point.
Truthfully, his little rant had a warmth blossoming in your chest, something you can’t exactly explain. You felt comfortable with him, nothing like you’d ever felt with Mulciber.
With him, it was nothing but ice, sure the occasional dull spark was ignited when his arm was slung securely over your shoulders, but that was rare.
All Remus had to do was look you in the eye and you were a melting mess.
You liked this new feeling.
“You know, you should’ve brought gloves.” He gestures to your numb fingers, shivering in the wind.
“Well I wasn’t exactly planning on going through a break up tonight, Remus.” You sarcastically retort, trying once again to bundle up your hands.
“Here, let me help.” Remus’s large hands lay atop your own, warm palms pressing against your chilled fingers.
You study your joined hands before slowly lifting your gaze back to his eyes. Your hands start to thaw.
“This is nice.” You tell him, just above a whisper.
His face is a bit closer to your own, and you can see the pink blush rising on his cheeks and tinting the tips of his ears. His nose adopts a redder hue from the brutal wind.
“Yeah.” Remus agrees at a similar volume. “It really is.”
All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts
Remus Lupin Taglist: @lunalovecroft
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Note
(1/2) Aaa hi- Could I get a romantic (or platonic if that's easier) matchup? Also I dunno how many asks I'm allowed to make but this might take two of them- My name is Toby, I'm a 5'6" transmale that uses he/bee/luck pronouns. I'm a chill but also soft person that's surprisingly wholesome yet chaotic. I'm horrible at standing up for myself which ends up in a lot of crying- I've got short, fluffy blonde hair and grey eyes :0 I'm also hella pale- Like I glow in the dark AND light, ya know? ---
(2/2) My hobbies consist of sleeping, cosplaying, and even more sleeping- I really like spicy candy (atomic fireballs are my JAM bro) and telling people random facts! I usually get hella anxious/scared if anyone around me is mad and I'm hella touch starved nglllll- I also like birbs- ESPECIALLY DUCKS I love ducks, bro- My favorite holidays are Easter and Halloween, if that explains anything about me- Also in a relationship, all I know if that I'd want my effort reciprocated- I hope this is ok AA
@stinkylittleanon
𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚙
𝐾𝑢𝑟𝑜𝑜 𝑇𝑒𝑡𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑜𝑢
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𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑌𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑀𝑒𝑡
Oop I’d mentally prepare for this one...
Ok so it’s after school and your just trying to walk home
Then
OUT OF NOWHERE
some ass hole starts picking on you 😡
And you we’re just sitting and taking it, hoping the person would just go away
Then all of the sudden
Someone comes behind you and pushes you behind them
Who is this someone?
Kuroo that’s who
He was just walking home as well when he saw someone approach you
You obviously looked uncomfortable, so he decided to intervene
He tells the bully to buzz off and once they leave he turns to make sure your ok
Once you reassure him your fine he offers to walk you home
Not wanting the bully to come back you agree
You get to your house and that’s when you and Kuroo realize that you both live in the same neighborhood 😳
After that day it became a habit for you and Kuroo to walk to and from school together
Ngl kenma was kinda happy to have a third party on the walks 👀
But walking to and from school soon turned into hanging out at school
And hanging out at school turned into hanging out outside of school
And you know one thing led to another....
Yeah you two basically showed up to school one day like “yeah btw we’re dating now”
He confessed to you very casually at your house after school one day
Like y’all were just chilling and he was like “you know what would be cool...if we dated ;)”
And you we’re like “aight bet”
Of course kenma was the first to hear this news
And everyone was just like “cool” 👍
𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝐴𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑌𝑜𝑢
Omg this man LIVES for your fun facts
Hands down the highlight of his day
You wanna tell him about the discovery of the pretzel
Go for it
You wanna rant to him about ducks
He’s 100% engaged
Oop
Ok
He really likes your hair 👀
It’s just so soft!
And fluffy!
He really likes to play with it
And he always buys you little hair accessories to try
𝐹𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑇𝑜 𝐷𝑜 𝑇𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟
IRIRNDB
Ok so this man will make EVERYTHING out to be a competition
So once you even MENTIONED the fact that you like spicy candy
Oh the games have begun
Basically this is me saying he really enjoys gaveling candy competitions with you
Basically first to spit out their candy loses
Other than that
He really likes the holidays with you
ESPECIALLY HALLOWEEN
It’s just a whole ass vibe that time of year
From scary movies
To decorating
To buying candy 👀
Kuroo loves it all
𝑅𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑚 𝐻𝑐
He’s made fun of your paleness before
Not in a mean way!
He’s just told you that you’d make a great vampire for Halloween...
Every
Single
Y e a r
The day you mentioned liking spicy candy
He went to the store and bought BAGS and BAGS of candy
To this day you still have some sweets left over from that candy haul
If you let him
He really likes styling your hair
And since your hairs short he really only gets to put pins and hair clips in
But hey it’s something
One time he legit got gel and made your hair look looked his 😀
AND IT DIDNT EVEN LOOK GOOD CAUSE YOUR HAIRS SO SHORT 😤
WASTE OF GEL MAN
𝑂𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝐴𝑒𝑠𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑐
Vintage
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jawritter · 3 years
Text
I’ll Wait For You
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Summary: Sometimes when we’re angry, hurt, or scared we say things wrong. Say things that hurt the ones we love. When Dean takes things a step to far can you find it in your heart to forgive him?
Word Count: 3151 (oops...)
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Prompt: Did I stutter? Do as you’re told!
Warnings: Dean’s a bit of a dick, angst, hurt feelings, unrequited/requited maybe? language because it’s me, I think that’s about it.
A/N: This fic was written for Chan’s 500 follower challenge! Congrats hun! @msmarvelouswinchester. It was also beta’d by @miss-nerd95! Thanks again love! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!
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It was always the same old dance between Dean and you lately. The same old seven and six. Dean barked orders to everyone in the car, expected everyone to follow them to the letter, just as he’d been instructed by John all those years ago. 
Dean knew the way his Dad had raised him had been wrong, he even admitted it now, but some habits were hard to break. Dean was used to being in control and he hated things that were not. Maybe it was because things had the tendency to get out of hand in his life so much. So much loss, so many deaths, and a lot more regrets. 
Sam had gotten accustomed to Dean’s 'take charge' attitude over the years and all but brushed it off and ignored the sting his voice tended to carry most of the time. It bothered Jack to no end, and you started to think that was one of the reasons Sam suggested he stop coming on hunts with you all, while Cas opted to stay behind with Jack. Dean and Cas’s friendship had been a rocky one for years now anyway, the kid just added to the stress.
So you found yourself where you started with the Winchesters all those years ago, covered in mud, glaring out of the window in the backseat of Baby as Dean teared you a new one for some order you didn’t bother following. 
This time though, unlike all those years ago, you had developed deep feelings for the elder Winchester, and every stab he took at you with every passing mile seemed to dig deeper and deeper into your very soul. You could feel tears burning in your eyes as he continued with his rant and you prayed the Bunker would appear quickly, because you didn’t know how much more of his harsh words you could take.
“Y/N!” Dean’s yell broke through mental walls you had built up to ignore him, making you jump as your eyes met a furious gaze in the rearview mirror of Baby, street lights out the window giving you brief glimpses of his livid face. “Answer me dammit! Why the fuck did you not go through the back exit like I told you to, instead of coming down the fucking hallway and right in the center of the Goddamn nest!”
You could feel the anger boiling just underneath the surface of all the hurt of being called a bad hunter and a liability, and an ignorant bitch that you couldn’t take it anymore. You could only shake a coke bottle so long before the building pressure inside exploded and you were right there, about to lose your shit.
You knew that was unwise, especially during the mood Dean was in, so you just bit your lip to keep from screaming at him, and looked him dead in the eyes. 
“I’m sorry Dean, I messed up. I admit it. I heard Sam screaming at you, and I thought something bad had happened. I’m sorry.”
That did nothing but infuriate Dean further, his eyes shifting from the road ahead of him to you again in the mirror. 
“You were given a direct order to go through the back door for a reason, you could have got yourself killed, or Sam killed! Do you understand that!” 
“I’m sorry Dean-” 
“NO!” Dean explodes pulling the car over the side of the road, and for a moment you felt like your heart had stopped. The thought that he might either kick you out of the car or the Bunker, or both rolling around in your mind. “WHEN I TELL YOU THINGS IT’S NOT ONLY FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, BUT FOR THE GOOD OF EVERYONE INVOLVED! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!”
Sam sat up a little straighter, looking at his brother directly for the first time since he’d started arguing with you. Dean had turned around to face you in the driver’s seat. His face was red and angry, nostrils flared and jaw clenched so tight you could see his jugular vein right under the collar of his black and grey flannel.
You couldn’t answer him, your heart was pounding so hard in your rib cage that you were sure the boys could hear it in the front seat.
“ANSWER ME! AM I SPEAKING A FOREIGN LANGUAGE?!” 
“Dean!” Sam scolded in a stern voice. Dean gave him a look before lowering his volume, but turned his angry gaze back on your shaking form. You had never realized Dean could be so terrifying when he became angry because it had never been directed at you before. 
“Dean, I’m so sorry... “
“I don’t want to hear ‘I’m sorry’ Y/N, Did I stutter? Do as you're told! That’s all I want you to do! Just do what the fuck you're told, and keep your ass alive by doing so, understand?” 
You swallowed the lump in your throat, never taking your eyes off of Dean’s. His gaze was hard, unnerving, and so angry that it reminded you of when he had the mark.
“I understand, Dean,” you finally were able to answer him.
Dean nodded, eyes taking in your visibly shaking form as you tried to make yourself as small as possible in the backseat. Sam was glaring daggers at his brother, but Dean didn’t seem to either notice or care. Finally he turned around and started the car again. A few tears slipped down your checks and you caught them quickly, doing all you could to hold rest in. 
The rest of the car ride was silent. No one said a word. Dean didn’t even turn on the radio. You kept your focus on the passing landscape as the Bunker grew closer and closer. 
Finally, after what felt like hours, Dean pulled into Baby’s usual parking place and you were out of the car and through the door before either of the boys could even move. 
“Y/N!” Dean called in a much softer voice than he’d used in the car but you didn’t even turn around when you answered him. You just wanted to get alone where you could cry.
“I’m going to take a shower,” you half heartedly yell over your shoulder. 
You didn’t give him time to respond before you disappeared behind the door of your bedroom, leaving the Winchesters standing in the library. You knew Sam wasn’t happy with Dean, but you really wished the younger of the two would just leave the other alone. 
You didn’t know what would happen if Sam poked the already vexed bear and you weren’t sure you could handle another fight with Dean at that magnitude. 
When you’d heard Sam yell Dean’s name, you assumed the worst. You felt like your heart fell at your feet. You just knew something horrible had happened to him and as mad as you were at him right now, you couldn't live in a world Dean didn’t exist in. 
Grabbing your clothes in a quick, yet somehow nonchalant movement, you made your way to the shower, and turned on the spray as hot as you could stand it. Mechanically stripping out of your muddy clothes before stepping under the scalding spray. 
You weren’t angry really, now that you were thinking about it, you were just hurt. Dean had looked like he hated you in the car tonight. Like if he could have gotten away with it, he would have killed you, which you knew was possible and that made it even more scary. You were a fool to ever think that Dean would ever have the same feelings for you that you had for him, and you knew that, but you didn’t realize how much he hated you.
That’s what made the dam of emotions that you had been holding back the whole way to the Bunker shatter. Deep, heart-breaking sobs racked through your body as your heart cracked into pieces  and slipped down the drain the water was draining in at your feet with the water that was rolling off of your body. 
Part of you screamed that you should leave the Bunker. Then another part of you, a much larger part of you, said you’d never survive if you did. Being a female hunter was dangerous, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was, you couldn’t leave Dean behind, and if you did, then it would be because he forced you, and that, you knew, would surely kill you. 
You stood there sobbing under the hot spray until it turned cold, washing your hair and body as tears streamed down your face in a now steady flow, only hidden by the water pouring around you. When you finally couldn't stand there any longer, you turned the shower off, took a deep breath, and dried yourself with a towel. Your hair was not top priority right now, and honestly, why would you even bother anymore. Not that Dean would notice or care even if you shaved it all off. 
You were so wrapped up in your own blind heartache that you didn’t see him standing in the hallway in front of the bathroom door until you ran headfirst into his chest. You staggered backwards as two strong hands grabbed each side of your shoulders to steady you. 
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” you mumble, shrugging his hands off of your body. You tried to make your way around him, but he quickly stepped in front of you, blocking your way. 
“Hey, listen, I want to talk to you,” he said with a low voice that normally would have made you melt, but right now, you couldn't even make eye contact with him because of the fear that the water works would start again, or that he would still look as angry as he did in the car. 
“Dean, I’m really tired, I just want to go lay down, can we talk later?”
Shoving past him hard enough to make him stumble backwards out of your way, you stalked towards your room and shut the door as fast as you could, hoping that he’d just give up on yelling at you  and would just go away. 
Three loud pounds on your door told you that you weren’t going to be so lucky.
“Y/N, please let me in,” his muffled voice begged through the door. 
You said nothing, just pulled the covers over you and hoped that if you didn’t answer he’d leave without saying anything else.
“I can pick a lock you know!” 
You honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. You shot a narrow-eyed glare at the door as if he could see through it, before you heard the distinct sounds of the lock being picked. 
That was one of the cons of living with a couple of hunters, no privacy. 
What was left of your heart stood still as the door to your room opened, and then closed. The sound of heavy footsteps making their way to your bed and the dip in your bed letting you know there was no way you were getting out of this. 
“Y/N, listen. I was too hard on you back there. I’m sorry. You’re not a bad hunter, you’re not a liability, you’re not stupid or a bitch. I was afraid that you could have really gotten hurt tonight, and I blew up unnecessarily. I was wrong for that, and I’m sorry.”
His voice was soft and quiet, so contradictory to what it had been in the car, but you didn’t have the guts to turn around to see if he still had that same look on his face as he did before. 
“S’Okay, Dean, I fucked up. I shouldn’t have put Sam or myself in jeopardy. It won't happen again, no need to apologize.”
For just a moment the room became deathly silent and you wondered if he’d just get up and leave, but he didn’t. Dean was never a big talker, and you were already surprised he was saying as much as he did, even though you knew Sam had probably put him up to it.
“So, um, I’m gonna go make some burgers, wanna join me?” He asked.
You just shook your head against the pillows, wiping the stray tears on the pillow beneath your head to keep him from seeing them. His words were still ringing so loud in your head that it was all you could hear. Just a loop repeating over and over again. 
“You’ve got to eat something Y/N. Come on, let me fix you something to eat, you haven’t really eaten anything all day.”
Way deep down, the sassy part of you wanted to scream the question, “Is that an order?” Still, you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to enrage him while he was being nice to you. 
“Dean, please, I’m not hungry, just… Go away, go find some girl to fuck at that strip joint up the road and blow off some steam.”
The words came out harsher than you meant to, and you could have swore you felt him flinch next to you. 
A dark chuckle left his lips that had you turning around and looking at him in spite of yourself. How could he even find that funny? When you turned around you found no humor in his hard features. 
“Why won't people let that shit go?” He asked you seriously, and for a moment it threw you off, red rimmed eyes and all, you sat up in your bed and faced him fully.
His face searched yours as he took in the state that you were in and his handsome features fell even further, so much guilt hanging in the air around him that it made you a little sick. This was the vulnerable side of Dean you had never seen before. If you were being honest, you didn’t even know how to handle it. 
“Dean, I don’t understand,” you told him as you watched his eyes glance over you, keeping his distance at the foot of the bed. 
“I mean, yeah, I went through a lot of women when I was younger. I was a hunter, didn’t need any attachments. It was a way to feel something other than the bullshit I was dealing with at the time.” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, and closed his eyes almost like he wished he could will away the memories you couldn’t see. 
Dean had a dark past and you knew that. You never really saw it manifest until tonight. 
“I know it wasn’t healthy, but what hunter ever dealt with anything properly? I haven’t done anything like that in years, but here you are, and there Sam was just about 15 minutes ago, still throwing it in my face.” 
Dean stood, and slowly made his way towards the door, his broad shoulders slumping slightly as he went and it made your heart clench. 
“Dean,” you tried, but he just shook his head as he grabbed the door and opened it slowly. 
“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m poison and it’s best that people think I’m a shitty human, maybe then you and everyone else I care about will be safe.”
Turning to face you with his hand still on the door, he gave you a look more haunted than anything you’d ever faced, fought, or killed. The small smirk pulled at his lips, not quite reaching his pale green eyes as he stared into your soul.
“I wish you could have met me before I became this way. Maybe then you wouldn’t hate me. Even though I can’t blame you, I can tell you that you will never hate me as much as I hate myself.”
You were on your feet before you had even thought about moving and grabbed his hand in yours to stop him from leaving. When he turned to you, you could see it then. The scared little boy that was still buried not so deep under the toughened surface. The one that had to see, live through, and deal with more than you knew you will ever in your lifetime, and carried more scars than you will ever be able to understand. 
“I don’t hate you Dean, I never have. I thought you hated me.”
Dean’s face fell even further, which you didn't know how that was possible, and his eyes hesitantly met your own, his teeth sinking into his lip hard enough that they were turning white before he finally spoke. 
“I don’t hate you sweetheart, I never have. I’m scared of what you make me feel, I’m scared that I will lose you, I’m scared… I’m scared of a lot of things.”
You were so relieved to find out that he didn’t absolutely detest you, that you pulled him into you with such force that it closed the door he’d had open, which led to him push a huff of air out of his lungs that he’d apparently been holding. 
“I don’t care that you’re poison Dean, I’m not going anywhere.”
For a long time the two of you just stood there, arms wrapped tightly around each other as if you could fix all of the broken pieces in your souls. Even though it wouldn’t all be okay tonight, even though Dean would crawl back in his shell of protection and hide from his emotions, even though no one would say it this this eventful night, you could see that he loved you just as much as you loved him… He was just afraid. 
Tonight, he’d spend the night with you in his arms, and in the morning, you’d share a lingering glance in the kitchen, maybe a passing touch, and that would be enough. Whenever he was ready, you’d still be there waiting for him, because even though he never said it with words, his body and soul cried out for the love he’d never been allowed to have before, and it told you all you needed to know.
He didn’t have to scream it to tell you, actions were always louder than words, and it was time for once in your life to do as you're told, and wait for your hero to come back to you. To let you make this homeless, broken man a home of your own. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how long you’d have to wait. You’d do it and do it gladly.
So even though there would be no dramatic declarations of love, no great, mind blowing sex just right now, and the wounds that words created would not get miraculously healed, you’d both take a shaky step together in the right direction. 
A little bit at a time, step by step, you’d get him to open up to you, but tonight, 'I’ll wait for you' will be enough.
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Forever Tags: @deanmonandnegansbitch @hayleeharling @flamencodiva @coldmuffinbanditshoe  @dirty-pan-goblin @itmejado @supernatural3002 @teresa-67 @thoughts-and-funnies @hearteyes-j2 @deanwanddamons @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @lyss-dw79 @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624 @busy-bee-angel-misska @justanotherwinchester @brilovesdeanwinchester @idksupernatural @lyarr24 @amandamdiehl @love-jackles-37-blog @miraclesoflove @emoryhemsworth @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel @softsebastian @tatted-trina6
A/N 2: sorry if your tags didn’t work guys! Tumblr is being an ass!
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roanniee · 3 years
Text
Maelstrom
🐈Yaku Morisuke x Hinata!GN! Reader
Chapter 13
Warning: fluff.
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"Be my date."
You choked at Yaku's words, the soda you were drinking spilling on the floor of your office.
"I'm sorry? Are you...?"
You could visibly hear Yaku panicking on the other end of the phone. You don't blame him since you were internally panicking yourself.
It's been a couple of months since that phone call with Yaku, and you both found yourselves in a routine.
Every night, Yaku would call you. Sometimes the calls are only five minutes, other times, it lasted a whole night. Sometimes, it was just a voice call, but there are times where it was on face time.
Safe to say, you know that you felt something for Yaku, something beyond the lines of friendship, but not in the romantic area just yet.
"I mean, be my date to the wedding."
You let out a silent sigh of relief, ignoring the slight disappointment that you felt. As much as you wee beginning to like Yaku, you knew that you still had issues to settle before you even begin to think sbout dating the libero.
"You do know that I got invited to the wedding, right?" You asked, glancing at the gorgeous gold and dark blue themed wedding invitation on your table. After spending one lunch at Onigiri Miya, you ended up becoming a regular, and thus became friends with Osamu and his fiancé, Akaashi Keiji. After hearing that you were off on the day of the wedding, they shyly shoved a wedding invitation in your hands, asking if you would like to attend.
You had been ecstatic and honoured enough to say yes immediately, and the way the couple lit up at your agreement made it worth it.
"Well yes... but I'd still like you to be my date if that's okay with you? Assuming that you haven't found one yet. Of course if you did or just didn't want a date, I completely understand and-"
"Yaku. I'd love to be your date to the wedding." You said, cutting off his ranting. "You'll have to come get me and drive me home though."
"Of course. What kind of date would I be if I don't?"
"A terrible one."
And so it was set.
*****
The wedding was beautiful.
It was outdoors, in the gardens of the spacious Miya Ancestral home. Chairs and tables were scattered around, alternating in blue and gold cloths.
From where you sat beside Yaku, you can only smile and shed a tear at the vows that Osamu and Keiji gave each other at the small podium, the local priest in front of them to unify them.
"Hey, Y/n?"
"Yeah, Shou?"
"You think we'd find love like that?"
You looked at him with a raised brow before glancing at Hoshiumi who was chatting with Kageyama. You had no doubt that your brother found it.
"You already did, Shou. Now I just have to find one for myself."
Shouyou smiled at the way you turned your attention to Yaku, and couldn't help but think that you already did. He just has to wait until you both realise it.
*****
"Uhm. What do we do now?" Yaku asked as he looked at the various paparazzi that was waiting for you to step out of Yaku's car.
With the wedding finally over and the couple off to their honeymoon, Yaku had driven you to your studio like you asked him to, wanting to work on a few WIPs in your computer.
You didn't hide the fact that you were in the wedding, posting pictures of congratulations to the newlyweds with their permission. You didn't hide the fact that you were Yaku's date either. You never thought it would bring such talks, but here you were, debating if you should still get off or have Yaku drive you home instead.
After a small internal debate, you chose the latter.
"I'm so sorry for this." You said, scratching your cheek with a sigh as Yaku drove you home. Yaku laughed and waved you off.
"It's completely fine. Don't worry about it. I'm more concerned with whether you go through that all the time or not."
"Only if they find some scoop that would be remotely interesting." You said with a wince. Unfortunately for you, you are a celebrity, and everything you do is a scoop.
Yaku couldn't even begin to know how that would feel like, and he didn't particularly want to. You smiled at him and moved the conversation along, glancing at him every now and then.
By the time he got you into your condominiums, it was too late for him to be driving home.
"Stay the night, Yaku. It's late and it was my fault anyway. I'm not taking no for an answer." You said, giggling when Yaku yawned in the middle of his protests.
It didn't take much for you to convince him, and you led him into the condominium and tossed him some of the clothes that Shouyou had left the last time he was over.
"Wow, Hinata and you must be close if you have this much of his clothes." Yaku absentmindedly commented as he walked out of the bathroom.
"Unfortunately, my brother has the habit of leaving his clothes everywhere in the condo."
"Your brother?"
"...oops. Did I forget to mention that Shouyou is my brother?"
"Yes."
"Oh."
Notes:
I am so so sorry for taking so long to update ksksks
Yaku definitely needed the entire story after that. Shouyou being your brother shocked him awake.
You told him the story and you two went MIA. Literally didn't even bother checking on your phones and such.
Media was going crazy with the theories about you and Yaku lmao
Your couch is very comfy. Plush pillows everywhere and lots of blankets.
You and Yaku fell asleep
And somehow ended up cuddling
Hanamaki and Matsukawa came home and took pictures of the two of you.
He sent it to the gc and everyone freaked out.
Then Shouyou saved the photo and sent it to the two other gcs.
Who also freaked out.
Good luck.
You'll be interrogated to no end come morning time.
But you'll be okay.
Bc you were in a good mood along with Yaku.
You both literally ignored everyone and went to breakfast with him the next morning lmao.
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oh-my-may · 4 years
Text
Atsumu being jealous of his s/o being close with Osamu
requested: hii! can i request headcanons for atsumu being jealous of how close his s/o is with osamu? i love your writing 🥺💕 
Thank you so much anon!! Your kind words are appreciated :3 Also I love writing for Atsumu someone please stop me- (this got so much longer than I intended it to be please excuse me but the Miya twins kinda own my heart oops)
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It developed naturally, your friendship with Osamu. Contrary to Atsumu, whom you only got to know in High School, you’ve known Osamu a while longer.
When you both were in Middle School you first saw each other at a little grocery store after school. You both stood in front of the same shelf, just inches away from each other. Your favourite pudding was on there, unfortunately a little too high up for you to reach. You stood on your tippy toes, your arm stretching as far as possible, but you barely touched it.
Of course Osamu noticed and being the gentleman he is (lol) he reached up and gave you the pudding, which was actually his favourite as well (we love a good pudding-bonding moment)
You thanked him so whole heartedly that he decided to buy the pudding for you (even though tht meant he couldn’t get one for his brother which he was very mad about in the end).
So you both sat outside under a tree and enjoyed your puddings while you made some light conversation. He told you about volleyball and about his annoying brother until the sun was setting and you both had to go home.
You didn’t exchange contacts or anything (you were like 12 or 13) but either way you met again a few days after, at the same story, in front of the same shelf, aiming for the same pudding. So it became a regular thing. Two times a week you would meet there after school and eat some pudding and talk until the sun was setting.
Sometimes you’d help him with homework, sometimes you’d let him rant about his brother or volleyball or both and at the same time he’d listen to your complaints about school or listen to other stories you’d have to tell.
Until High School approached and you both ended up not only at the same school but also on the same class. Of course you knew you were going to the same school from now on (you talked about that, too), but when you walked into your new class and you saw each other it was still like that spiderman meme. “Y/N!” “Osamu?!” A great moment.
Atsumu was confused af because his twin brother knew such a pretty person and he didn’t even know your name? Was he doing something wrong? Why had Osamu hid this from him?
So anyways you end up in the seat next to Osamu so your seating order would be You - Osamu - Atsumu and then Suna. And honestly Atsumu was kinda crushing on you hard since the beginning. And of course Osamu would know because he’s his twin and just... Probably a twin thing.
So Osamu would be annoyed af about this because that is exactly why he never told Atsumu about you in the first place. He didn’t want any weird relationship forming and possibly ruining your nice friendship. He has grown quite fond of you and he knew his brother so he was just trying to prevent a catastrophe okay-
But you couldn’t care less that Atsumu and Osamu are brothers - or twins, in fact. To you they were two completely different people. You could even tell them apart from the beginning (even when they still had the same hair color) and you got to know the two in completely different contexts.
Of course you knew Atsumu from Osamu’s stories but he very quickly proved himself to be a lot more than that and much to Osamus displeasure you developed a crush on Atsumu and met him in private and outside of school - without Osamu or Suna or someone else around.
Atsumu was far more than just Osamus annoying twin brother that you only knew from his subjective stories. In fact, he was a lot different than from what you expected him to be and very quickly you fell very deep for him, so it didn’t take long until you started dating.
And of course you both were happy - every day you got to know more about the other, learned new things and fell in love deeper.
But there was always something that bothered Atsumu. No matter what it was, Osamu seemed to know you better. “Did you know they like this pudding?” “Bro, that’s literally how we met.”, “Today I saw a tiny scar on their knee.” “Oh yeah, they once fell from their bike as a child and it’s still visible.”
It pisses him off. Because Osamu doesn’t even try to be subtle about it. They had a big talk when you two started dating - Osamu made it very clear that he didn’t have any feelings for you and just appreciated you as a friend. Still, Atsumu had an unpleasant feeling creeping up inside him whenever he saw you laughing with his twin or sitting together with him at lunch.
Je hust couldn’t enjoy every single moment with you, knwoing in his head that his twin brother maybe already knew the story you were telling him. When you even just mentioned Osamu’s name he flinched a little, even when it was just for a small comment. He knew it would be different when you wouldn’t have known Osamu before him, but of course he couldn’t change that.
He knew that it was very stupid of him to feel this way but he couldn’t help it. He tried to play it off around you but he couldn’t keep quiet forever. Both you and Osamu noticed. So eventually, you brought it up when you were chilling at your place.
It was definitely the right thing to do, yet you found yourself regretting it after you two got into an argument. Your first one. Atsumu talked himself into a rage once you started talking and he couldn’t stop his mouth from saying all these words. Not bad words, just ones you couldn’t quite understand. He let out all his feelings (mostly frustration and anger directed at himself) and then at the end he looked at you. You were frozen on the spot after he repeatedly waved you off when you tried to interrupt him and calm him down. Your eyes were a little widened, your cheeks reddened with stress, you had folded your hands in an hesitating manner in front of your chest and your chest was heavily lifting and falling under your fastened heartbeat.
He felt miserable. “I ... I’m sorry Y/N, I know I’m stupid. I love you and I’m sorry for making you feel this way but I think I need to sort some things out with myself. See you tomorrow.” Then he left and you were still frozen before you grabbed for your phone and did the first thing that came to your mind. You called Osamu.
You told him everything Atsumu had just talked about and Osamu just listened silently. When you finished he let out a small “hm” and then he was silent again before starting to talk about the matter himself. That’s when you first notice how similiar they were when it came to their feelings.
Osamu told you how he was suspecting something like that (because his brother is just impulsive like that and he would probably feel the same) and how Atsumu hasn’t returned home yet. You couldn’t think of a solution for the situation but Osamu hung up, saying he would handel the situation. After all it would be him dealing with Atsumu when he’d return.
Atsumu was probably in the gym, throwing some tosses to get his mind clear and trying to overcome his issues.
He got home late and Osamu already waited for him in his room, sitting in a bean bag chair. The two of them didn’t talk or even blink for like a whole minute, they just looked at each other (another weird twin thing?). Eventually Atsumu broke the silence, though his eyes didn’t leave his brothers face. “They called you, didn’t they?” “What else would they have done in this situation?”
Atsumu just huffed, letting himself fall into the other bean bag chair, directly next to Osamu. “You know you are being stupid, right?” “Of course!”
So they’d talk about it for quite a while. Of course they can’t just change Atsumu’s feelings, but they reailzed that eventually it would get to a point where he’d knew you better than Osamu. “I can’t know everything about them. I don’t even want to, that’s your job. But don’t you think it’s nice for them to have someone who already knows you? Who can help them in situations like this? Whoy they can rant and come to when they feel like it? Same goes for you, maybe she knows stuff about me that you don’t.”
Again they’d exchange a long look and eventually Atsumu would sigh and be like: “At least you can tell me stuff about them now. What’s their favourite type of candy? And what about flowers? Or plushies?”
“I’ll tell you everything as long as you don’t steal our pudding thing.”
So the next day you’re a little hesitant before you go into class because Osamu didn’t text you to tell you how it went. Maybe Atsumu is still a little upset? Maybe they had a big fight? You can’t help but feel anxious about probably being the reason for a fight between siblings - twins. It breaks your heart.
But before you can even step into class someone class your name from the other way of the hallway and when you turn to see it’s Atsumu walking up to you, quite the impressive bouquet of flowers and a tiny bag in hand.
You visually relax as your face lights up seeing Atsumus face a lot brighter than ever. He grins from ear to ear and his hair falls into his face because of his running but he looks better than ever and you just want him to drop all these things so you can jump at him and kiss him until you’re both dizzy.
“Y/N! I’m so sorry about yesterday, I didn’t mean to raise my voice and make you feel uncomfortable. I know I am dumb, but I promise you that I got this from now on.” He smiles and hands you the things he’s bought for you.
You peeked into the bag and saw your favorite candy. A knowing smile crept onto your lips as you looked back at Atsumu, who was waiting for your reaction with big eyes. “Tell me, did you have help picking out all my favourite sweets?” Your voice was sweet and your face even sweeter. You already knew the answer but you wanted to see if Atsumu could actually overcome his issues.
He looked you right in the eye. “Of course my beloved brother helped me.”
You broke out into a wide grin and slung your arms around his neck. He happily welcomed you in his arms and snaked his hands on your back and into your hair, pressing you tightly against him.
Everything about him felt a little different. He was less tense and more relaxed, the looks on his face were more genuine and the words he spoke made your heart jump a little. Yes, you could definitely move on like this.
“I love you both.”, you murmured into his neck. You felt him freeze for a second and laughed. “Of course I love you a lot more though.”
Requests are still open!
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allkinds-oftrash · 3 years
Text
Ya girl is watching the latest HSM series ep and Imma live blog it hshshs and will add my reactions under the cut so it doesn't end up a long post. Anyways, let's goo:
AHHHH THE MORNING SHOW WITH GINA AND EJ WE LOVE TO SEE IT
They really said we're gonna let life imitate art with Nini and Olivia huh
Ricky was SUPPORTIVE??? Damnn I really thought we gonna get a classic Ricky tantrum....
But also wow sir that sounds salty and should definitely talk to someone abt how you're feeling...A therapist maybe 👀
I know we needed to contextualise how Ricky felt abt the song but I really wanted to see Nini's interview in full!!
Sebby you're so cute I do wanna see yall do DEH
Shjshshs not the rights not being available for another 5 years 😭😭
I dunno how they're in great shape and closer to the Menkies Gold after not having a single proper rehearsal, but go off Miss Jenn
Omg honestly Kourt's costumes are always amazing and on point Imma excited to see it
Kourt is such a simp we love to see it
Carlos is so pissy this episode we love to see it shshhs
Also love the way Seb calms him down and keeps him nice it's such a funny dynamic
"We had 20 people make our Belle dress over 50 hours" Okay North High shut the fuck up
I'm calling it now the reason North High knows so much is cos Howie is the leak and Kourt has been unwittingly telling him. The way her phone keeps going off as they discuss how North High knows everything is really good foreshadowing if my prediction is right
Also like her phone went off just as Carlos said "How did they know that?" THAT'S PEAK FORESHADOWING
If Howie ain't in North High, I dunno what Tim is doing
GSJAGSHAH KOURTNEY MAKING ABS FOR EJ I CANNOT
"I have abs" We know sweetie
"I PADDED THE THUSH FOR YOU" "AWW THANKS KOURT I NEEDED THAT" THIS INTERACTION IS EVERYTHING THAT WAS SO FUNNY!! I love that it is now canon that EJ has abs but no butt love that for him
Okay but like damn these costumes are great!! North High can fuck right off with its high end ones I just wanna see lowkey homemade costumes by students; I'd watch a Broadway show if I wanted to see professional costumes okay
Damn Carlos has killer eyesight clocking in that mask in the trunk
GINA BBY DON'T SAY THAT AND HAHSGSH NINI NUDGING HER WAS SO FUNNY
Nini's little look over at Gina was like "Omg you guys my girlfriend is so cute and dumb" GINI STANS HOW WE FEELING?
Miss Jenn don't be that naive, your boyfriend probably put them up to it
That Insta page is prophetic with their timing tbh; all the info is a leak obviously looking at your Howie but like the timing of it all. Those kiddos don't know that they are discussing the stolen mask at this exact moment (Kourt has put down her phone after Carlos snapped at her so Howie doesn't know they are talking abt it rn)
"We don't dance with the enemy" *cuts to her dancing with Zackey later*
SEBBY WEARING THE TEACUP COSTUME OMG HE'S GOING MAKE SUCH A CUTE CHIP (yes I am still mad Seb/Joe was robbed but Imma fangirl over the costume anyway)
Wtf why does North High look so expensive - they are literally in the same district as East High right??? How did they get this much funding
North High is a very artsy and rich for a public school; they should have had Nini go here instead of YAC tbh (like this campus feels like what YAC should have been) NOW THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN AN INTERESTING STORYLINE
Seblos' dynamic IS ON POINT THIS EP I really love my bois so much and their back and forth is hilarious
Shhshs DIANE who loves volleyball and North High okay I totally believe it
WHY ARE RED AND ASHLYN SO KINKY EVERY DAMN EPISODE TIM THESE ARE UNDERAGED CHARACTERS STOP IT
Shshsh we love Gina knowing herself and practicing self control by volunteering to be the lookout
Omg yall listen to Carlos and stfu they are so lucky no one saw or heard them yelling Wildcats
Oh no no no no no Miss Jenn you gonna get sucked in; this is gonna be so messy
Omg I saw someone post about this scene before I watched the ep YALL ARE RIGHT THAT BOI HITTING ON GINA IS SO FINE Babes go for that one, not EJ
NOT THEM FAKE DATING UGH E W TIM STOP MAKING ROMANTIC PORTWELL A T H I N G I honestly do not understand how some of yall can ship it romantically knowing Sofia is a whole underaged babey and Matty is a whole ass grown man - like I get the appeal of the Wonderstudies getting together and they do have chemistry but the irl age gap is creepy and outweighs the appeal of shipping them romantically
As I always say; Portwell/Wonderstudies should be a BROTP not an OTP
Ugh Brotp Portwell would have clocked Lily right away; romantic Portwell making googly eyes at each other isn't helping anyone
Living for Nini getting the recognition she deserves - I really like her solo arc this season she's so much more interesting without Ricky tbh
Aww Kourt you simp I love her and I'm so happy she's happy I wanna be wrong about Howie being a North High kid
Where is the mask??
OHMYGOD THESE KIDS COMING IN LIKE A HORROR MOVIE
Lily really wishes she was Jesse St. James huh; you could never Lily so stop
Andrew Barth Feldman and his cute little French accent I love him so much
Hnng Miss Jenn gonna get manipulated by this hoe. Omg wowow Zackey really is a hoe, making out with another girl before the show THE AUDACITY OF HIM SAYING MISS JENN WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH I WILL THROW HANDS WITH THIS MOFO
Wait the kids didn't steal it BUT WHAT IF ZACKEY DID
Ssjsgfajhdfg I CANNOT WITH ANDREW'S ACCENT but I can't tell if its really bad or really good but I'm also confused why didn't they just cast a French person as Antonie shshhs Antoine is adorableee and a little shit the best type of character
Lily is so annoying b y e sis bye and Olivia Keegan is talented I just wish they didn't make her character such a cartoony villain type
"How about if we bop to the top" SEBBY I LOVE YOU AND NEVER STOP BEING SO CUTE I SWEAR and Awww Carlos called him Honey I am s o f t
Hnng why do these fools are really gonna give into North High calling them chickens
OHHH NO SHE DIDN'T JUST SAY THAT ABOUT ASHLYN FUCK A DANCE OFF I AM ABOUT TO THROW HANDS WITH A 16 YEAR OLD
"She told us not to dance with the enemy. She's better than this" No Sebby, she's not *cuts to her dancing with Zackey* AND OMG THE WAY I SAW THIS EDIT COMING BEFORE IT CAME
Ooooh I like this song wayyy more whatever the mess The Mob Song became (when I first heard it drop on Spotify yesterday) Around You is such a great song musically and lyrically very relevant to these two and gosh I love their voices together
They have so much chemistry damn, go home Mike (well he technically has oop) and Mr. Mazzara
YES YOU DO MISS JENN YOU ALWAYS HAD IT
Oh god this is the scene from the trailer; she's gonna make a move on Ricky isn't she?? Leave him alone Lily he doesn't need a 3rd girl to be confused about he needs a therapist
Lily shut the fuck up with quasi; STOP TRYING TO MAKE QUASI HAPPEN
"I love Nini's song" Sure, Jan.
...Okay yes you should have called him out but don't bait him LIKE THAT oop there's the scene from the trailer
Ohmygod is Andrew Barth Feldman gonna hit on Ashlyn
Okay this is so cute but also I am VERY annoyed with the way this show handles its characters like they aren't relevant or important unless they get into a relationship or a love triangle?? That's such a shitty way to give out screentime and arcs to characters. Is it not enough to develop the characters on their own and strengthen their friendship???
HUH TIM why you so obsessed with compulsory heterosexuality??(well also homosexuality for Seblos but they are the only ones I'm not annoyed with their relationship cos its a hella big step for Disney to have a gay couple and their relationship isn't in our faces or overshadows the plot and its just spinkles of cuteness every time they interact - they are honestly who Rini wishes they were; besties in love. They are a couple that Tim should be taking notes from; leave the relationship drama in the background, focus on the theatre and friendship aspect of everything)
My mini rant aside; this is a very adorable interaction between Ashlyn and Antoine.
"TOM HOLLAND ON STILTS" GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE WITH THAT COMPARISON I AM SCREAMING ANTOINE THAT'S SO FUNNY
This is so funny he keeps picking out the hottest guys of the group; as if he himself isn't the French version of Big Red they look super alike ngl shshsh
WHY YOU RUIN IT WITH THAT ANTOINE I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU
Drama between Antoine and Red is already spicing up shshsh I cannot
Why are you so dramatic with the shuffle Lily gtfo of here...also this doesn't make sense?? She wasn't even on a BATB playlist; what if a non BATB song came on ahahah
Good to know they aren't big fans of The Mob Song like I am Awww EJ you cutie, okay I will appreciate the OG Mob Song just for you
OH WAIT HE PROLLY LIKES IT COS ITS A GASTON LED SONG TIM GIMME THE EJ SOLO I DESERVE IN THIS NUMBER
I'm being robbed of Gaston for the last 7 eps I at least deserve an EJ solo for compensation
The way the set looks straight out of Broadway but also like omg the blue lighting and fancy stage gave me intense flashbacks to that Glee episode where Vocal Adrenaline sang Bohemian Rhapsody
RICKY STOP BEING SALTY AND ACTUALLY COMMUNICATE WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND LIKE A NORMAL PERSON
OMG THE SUBTITLES SAID ITS HOWIE SINGING AS THE BEAST I FUCKING CALLED IT
Howie you hoe you gonna break my girl Kourtney's heart
Yeah...still not a fan of Antoine's Dance Remix
Yall know Gina would kill the dance number if she wasn't wearing that fit
Okay but it's Gaston led song WHY DOES EVERYONE BUT EJ HAVE A SOLO IN THIS SONG??
First the Beasts led it (Howie sounded better than Ricky ngl), then the Lumieres (their voices worked hella well together; I always forget what a talented singer Frankie is THEY NEED TO GIVE HIM A SOLO SONG) and now the Belles are going at it (Ashlyn's voice is superior)
BIG RED BEING JEALOUS AND SALTY IS SO FUNNY ITS LIKE A PUPPY BEING ANGRY I CRI
...Did anyone really win, Lily??? STFU
CARLOS IS RIGHT AND HE SHOULD SAY IT
Oooh I did see someone talk about this when the Rose Song dropped last week, apparently its illegal to add songs to a musical you're doing for a school play; I really thought the show would brush past that irl rule but I guess they are playing into it
THE WAY EVERYONE TURNED TO EJ FOR THE SPORTS METAPHOR I AM D Y I N G AND HIS FACE WAS GOLDEN! ITS LIKE THAT LISA SIMPSON MEME SHHSHSH
Okay Nini is being a little pissy about leaving her song out of the show and its a little selfish to wanna keep it at the risk of being disqualified but I also understand why she's hurt
Everyone is dog piling on her right now being against her idea and it feels like they are being against her song and her herself instead of them not wanting to be disqualified. Also like she poured her heart and soul into the song after Miss Jenn lowkey rushed her to write it. So I can see why this feels like a rejection of her and her song and why she's so hurt rather than her seeing the big picture right now
It doesn't help that Ricky said the final blow causing her to walk off
Okay maybe Zackey gets some rights for being chill and wanting the kids to be peers
THIS MOTHERFUCKER I KNEW HE WAS SHADY Also the way I gasped even though I predicted he stole the mask halfway through this ep shshsh
Stab him Miss Jenn STAB HIM
Bitch why you so threatened by East High if yall have such a Broadway-esque show planned??? They honestly should have stuck to the Little Mermaid; I really wanted to see the aquarium
"It's just a song Ricky" "A song can mean everything" Do you get deja vu? Anyone else getting intense flashbacks to Jan when DL first dropped and all the drama happened 👀
YES PLEASE STAY CO ANCHORS Gosh I love them so much esp once you take the romantic connotations out of their interactions
ROUGE GRAND I'M SCREAMING
I love this long take of checking in with everyone's relationship status (still hate how romantically focused this show has become but still a cool shot)
I K N E W IT I WAS RIGHT
Okay but like looking at Kourtney's face I have never wanted to be wrong so bad GOD I HATE IT HERE I really think he likes her and I hope they work it out
Nini setting up her own music acc feels like when Olivia rebranded her whole IG to be just for her music stuff - love this for both of them
AHHHHH SHE'S NINA NOW YALL
I know everyone loves her as Nini but like I have always loved the name Nina and it really suits her to be honest also shows how she's growing up now and kind of leans into the lyric "I won't be confined to your point of view" from The Rose Song because Nini is the nickname Ricky gave her so it shows that she's outgrowing him too and I love that for her!
Overall thoughts; they really crammed all the North High drama into one ep huh. Personally would have liked it if all of this was spread out throughout the last few episodes; like different hijinks for every episode. I'm just a big fan of properly setting up the overall arc over the season instead of patching it together closer to the climax/end of the show. Cos now it lowkey feels like two different seasons - 2A felt like The Rini/Rina Show esp with YAC storyline and whatever was going on with Rina and now 2B is finally feeling like what this season should have been all this time
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oingo233 · 4 years
Text
By The Lake* Part One
Summary:  A family friend offers you a place to stay to get away from an abusive past.  Her home is a place that you are familiar with, an old town with a large lake you spent many days in. You went there years ago for one full summer, where you became close friends with a very young Daryl Dixon.  You two were inseparable until you had to leave.  But now you’re back, escaping from a past much like his.  You will need to weave your way through the town's problematic people, your own problems, and above all the confusing Dixon.  Will you two find your way back to each other again?  Or will he push you further away?  And above all, will your past cease to haunt you?
Part Two * Part Three * Part Four * Part Five
Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of abuse and violence(potential triggers), cussing, more mature themes(not smut or anything tho), slow burn romance
Authors Note: Daryl Dixon is a character from the amazing show The Walking Dead, but this story is modern AU so not with all the walkers and everything.  I don’t own and I didn’t create his character.  Also this story is in no means meant to romanticize abuse, that stuff isn’t romantic. It is such a terrible, terrible thing, but it is sadly a very common thing as well.  Throughout this series I only hope that I can spread awareness about the matter, and let people know that they aren’t alone, things will get better, and that no one is deserving of any kind of abuse. Ever. Anyways, I’m done with my rant, I hope y’all like it, and if not please send in some constructive criticisms I’m always looking to improve.
Word Count: 1.7k
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 I can’t help the dumb smile that spreads across my face, and I can’t help but think of all that is changing.  It felt like I could breathe again, that maybe everything will turn out alright. It has been weeks with nothing bad happening, weeks of trying to stop the burning question of “but for how long?” from ruining my mood.
“What are you smiling so big for?”  Cherry, my moms best friend and my god mom, stared at me from the drivers side.  Before I could answer she cut me off.  “Excited to see Daryl again?”  She sent me a large wink, and her smile almost matched mine.  I shake my head with a loud laugh, and turn to look out the window again. Hopefully she won’t see me blushing.
“God Cherry, we were 13.”I say. She laughs too, her shoulders lazily move up into a shrug.  
“Whatever you say.”  I glare at her jokingly, and she pokes my side, the car moving dangerously close to the right.  She laughs nervously and a small “oops” slips from her lips, before she continues on torturing me. “Well, he is real cute now.  A bit quite though, but then again, he always kind of was huh?”  You nod silently, watching the tall trees pass in a blur.
  Daryl always was so quite, it took you nearly the whole summer to get him to string together a whole sentence.  But once you did, nothing could stop him from being with you.  Sure, he’d never rant to you or anything, but he’d hold good conversations and what he didn’t tell you, you found easy to pick up on how he acted around you.  But this was years ago.  You wonder how much has changed, and if you’ll ever be that close with him again?
“Mark ask’s him over sometimes, to work on this old car he bought, ya know just for some help.  He’d always ask about you.”  We share a look and I stare at my lap soon after, a blanket wrapped around me for the long drive.  She must have noticed my behavior because she quickly kept going, enjoying making me blush.  “Cute lil thing he is, he’d always work up a blush.  ‘How’s (Y/N) doing?’ or ‘(Y/N), she alright?’”  She shook her head with a wide smile, but I stare at her with something like horror on my face.  I try to calm myself before asking.
“What did you tell him?”  He smile drops, her grip on the wheel tighter than before.  
“Not the truth.  Said you were doing good.”  It was silent, her knuckles turned white. “He’d ask about you and Carter...”  Her voice trailed off venomously, before giving me a comforting look. “We tell him it’s nothing he has to worry about.” I nod my head.  It felt weird for me to thank her for lying for me, but I do anyway.  Daryl knowing bout everything, when we haven’t seen or been close to each other in years seems weird, like it would be a burden.
I’m 18 now, Daryl would’ve just turned 19.  You blush of thinking of how good looking he must be now. You always found him cute, but 13 was too young to do anything bout it.  Although you’d never admit it out loud, you always liked him.  He was good to you.  Better than your actual boyfriend...
“You okay, honey?”  Cherry’s voice breaks the silence, and thankfully your thoughts.  You run a hand down your face with a tight smile.
“Just tired, that’s all.”  Her smile faded faster than you would have liked it too.  You looked into her eyes just in time to catch the glistening pity in them before she faced the road again.  She knew your situation, everything you’ve been through.  
“I’ll tell the kids not to bug ya then.  Let ‘cha rest up first, yeah?”  I thank her but decline and face the window once again.  I hated sleeping in the car, always preferred watching out the window and thinking bout things instead. But maybe I should try, I wouldn’t want to make the kids sad.  I loved those two boogers.  Cherry had two little kids with her husband Mark.  One little boy named Monty, and a little girl they named Rosie.  I don’t even know how old they are now.  When I was there for the summer with my family so many years ago, Rosie was just born.  
“How old are they now?” I blush, almost ashamed of not knowing.  But I can hardly keep track of my life, let alone everyone elses.  She puts a hand on my knee, and squeezes it.  Instantly, I feel better, and talking about her kids obviously made her feel better too.
“Monty is 8, and Rosie is 5!  Monty just got super into dinosaurs, and we can’t keep Rosie out the lake.  She just learned how to swim, she got so big...”I listen to her drawl on about her kids with a sweet, unbothered feeling.  My excitement grows as she continues to tell me about them, and we are getting closer to their house.  Finally we pull into the familiar town, only about 15 minutes from her house now, which would mean we are only 26 minutes from Daryl’s.  I try not to think of him, or how nervous I am to see my old close friend, or what goes down in that house.  
I knew about what his father did to him, or I think I did.  He never told me about it but sometimes he’d stop by the old cabin on Cherry’s property where my mom and I stayed, and he’d be crying.  We’d sit by the lake in silence, sometimes I’d be hugging him and tracing the lumps and scars under his clothes, other times I’d catch a glimpse of a bruise on his face in the moonlight.  But whenever I’d ask, he’d push me away and I wouldn’t see him for a few days after, or until he seemed alright and I was dumb enough to believe that.  At my age and time in my life I never knew how bad it was.  Not until the same thing happened to me.  I never should have left Daryl there, knowing all that I did.  How can I face him again with all this guilt?  I was a terrible friend...
I feel an unwelcome burn in the back of my eyes and throat right as we pass the ice cream parlor, the car pulled into the parking lot and I smiled brightly.  Wiping at my eyes for a brief second before looking at Cherry with raised eyebrows. 
“Thought I’d treat ya.”  She chuckles at my expression.
“Giving me a place to live isn’t enough?”  I laugh out, she laughs too and we climb out of the car.  I leave the blanket in the seat, I’d rather die than have anyone here see me with a baby blue fuzzy thing wrapped around my waist.  
We step inside and Cherry says a few quick hello’s, and introduces me to some of her friends in there.  We grab our ice cream but I recognize an older couple from that blissful summer.
“Mr.Henderson right?”  I stop a older looking man from walking out the door, I put my hand out and he takes it with a hint of uncertainty.  His eyes scan me for any familiarity.  They land on my hair, and then deep in my eyes, his face lights up, before I could tell him who I am he beats me to it.
“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)!”  He pulls me into a hug, careful not to get chocolate ice cream in my hair.  “I don’t believe it!  Look at how grown you are!  Sharron get over here.”  He waves his wife over joyfully from the car, she gives him a loving smile before shaking her head at me.
“I’m sorry dear, I don’t reco-” She gasped mid-sentence and pulled me into a hug.  She looked back at Mr.Henderson.  “This is (Y/N) honey!”  He nods at her and she looks back at me grabbing at my hair and twirling it around her finger.  I flinch when her fingers first reached for me but she didn’t seem to notice, I’m glad.  “Look how beautiful...”  She hugs me again.  
Mr. and Mrs. Henderson are Cherry’s neighbors, about half a mile out.  I used to drag Daryl over there with me so we could grab some of their infamous lemonade every afternoon.  We’d stay there for hours and hang out in their tire swing, and their side of the lake has a huge flat rock by the shore.  Daryl and I used to lay on it in the hot sun.  Mrs.Henderson used to joke that if we weren’t careful we’d cook like eggs.  I haven’t seen them since that last summer day, when I went looking for Daryl to say goodbye.
Cherry politely pulled her off me, and gave them a stern look.
“(Y/N)’s a bit tired, I was just about to take her home.”She said.  Mrs.Henderson looked at the empty ice cream cup in my hand and frowned. 
“Well she can’t sleep with a tum full of ice cream.  See Cherry, this is why your kids never sleep on time.  You ain’t feedin’ em right.”  Cherry raised an eyebrow and looked at her wordlessly, lips pulled tight.  
“Well, it was so nice to see you again.  But we really should be going, and Mrs.Henderson, this ice cream never gave me any problems before.”  I wink and pull Cherry away from them before they start brawling.  Mom always got along better with the Henderson's than Cherry did, and they weren’t even our neighbors.  I guess that could be why.  
Mrs.Henderson grabs my elbow making me tense up.  “oh but don’t go.  Daryl just got here...look.”  Her hand left my elbow and she pointed down the street to a young man that I don’t recognize, walking stiffly towards us.  He’s tall, with broad shoulders and arms that looked good in his sleeveless shirt.    
As if sensing our eyes on him, he looks up.  My mouth slacks as I stare back into his startling blue eyes, the same ones that belong to Daryl Dixon.  Daryl stops walking and stares at me, his eyes trail slowly down my body, and back up to my eyes. His face wide with shock, quickly morphs into a scowl.  He shakes his head bitterly, brown hair falling on his forehead, and turns around, walking away from us in quick strides.  
Out of all the ways I imagined us meeting again, that was not one of them.  I can’t help myself from wondering what the hell that was all about?
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jincherie · 5 years
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fox rain | four
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• ☽ — pairing: bts x reader • ☽ — genre: crack, fluff, angst, college/uni au • ☽ — words: 13.9k+ • ☽ — rating: sfw • ☽ — warnings: stop one on the angst train express!!! conflict, crying, hurt feelings and perhaps a little bit of a complex... also someone gets slapped (rightfully). what a chapter! • ☽ — notes: two months late LETS GET IT FOOOXXX RRAAAIIINNN !!! this shit HURTED. for maximum owies, I advise reading a particular intermission before this one uwu
— posted; 08.09.2019
When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.
— • masterpost | prev. | four | next • —
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Never in your life, have you ever truly entertained the thought of killing someone before now. 
As though your stormy mood is a thick fog permeating the air and rendering it unbreathable, the students moving past you in the hall hasten to give you a wide berth. You’d appreciate it, if you weren’t so caught up in your half-baked murder plans that you didn’t even notice.
You’re a nice enough person, right? You’ve never gone out of your way to be mean, or bullied anyone—hell, sometimes you feel so bad about the current state of the earth that you walk around the park looking for litter to pick up. Being the stellar example to humanity that you are, you’ve managed to steer clear of—for the most part, also not counting these very stressful past few weeks—drama. In high school you managed to dodge the drama entailed by school dances, juvenile love triangles, and pretty much anything pubescent you can think of. You did your own thing, and generally most people took enough pity on your poor excuse of an existence that they became oddly endeared and protective of you, like they were adopting a small alien ball of slime that fell from the heavens and wheezed painfully with each breath. You’ve never had to face the cold, agonizing frostbite of betrayal, and you didn’t really ever expect to.
But now for the first time ever you have, and god does it suck. You woke up this morning like you had a hangover, head throbbing as though an iron ball was rolling from one side of your skull to the other in uneven laps, and your eyes were somehow a combination of dry and tight, swollen and moist— admittedly, you still kind of feel like that to a degree. You woke up sad, and angry and hurt, but thankfully Karma isn’t one to leave you stewing in any one emotion too long. What a benevolent queen you find yourself ruled by.
As soon as you settled down this morning with your flavoured coffee (the last sachet from your “depression days” emergency stash on the top shelf of the cupboard—you feel as though with all you’ve been through, you deserve it) and opened your phone like a fool to pass the time while your waffle (another comfort food from your stash) cooked in the kitchen, you were met with a very sudden and very stark change in emotional stasis. No longer were you a moody, depressed and sad sack of mouldy mashed potato—now you were a fucking livid sack of mouldy, mashed potato, who nearly snapped her fork in half from the sheer strength of her tight grip.
After all you’d learnt of Sera the afternoon previous, you shouldn’t have been as surprised to wake up to what you did. And yet, the second you laid eyes on that damn post it had taken you so off guard you’d nearly flown into a blind rage on the spot.
The gall, the absolute audacity of her to plead and proclaim that she was going to “fix this”, only to turn around and plunge another knife into your back by publicly announcing on the university forum she used to start all this that she is the author. This entire ordeal was already such a convoluted mess that even before this, she never could have truly fixed it—but she could have lessened it, made it more bearable. Yet she didn’t. And with her blatant choice to not only do the opposite but essentially plagiarise your damn poem and steal your unwanted, unintentional fame—you’ve never been so fucking furious in your life. 
You’ve never considered murder before now either but you have to admit, the further onto campus you get and the more whispering and gossiping you catch about the “development” in the mystery moon poem drama, the more appealing it seems. 
 All day, you have put up with this shit. All day, as you sit through class and then move from one session to another, you have heard people gasp and chatter and rant and rave about how Sera is the supposed author to the poem. You’ve heard them wax poetic about her and her “skills” that she doesn’t deserve and aren’t really for her, flattering comments about her ‘humble’, ‘sweet’, ‘sensitive soul’ character that you now know couldn’t be further from the truth. The combination of her betrayal and the injustice of the situation as you now find yourself in it are almost enough to break you into a soggy, emotional mess, but it seems the pure, unadulterated rage will be enough to feed your fire and keep you going for now. 
You’ve been in such a state all day that you can hardly remember what it was like before you were angry. Depression? What depression? You’ve never heard of her. This must be what it feels like to be an Aries, you think. You almost feel invincible, and would if it weren’t for the looming cloud above you that rained angry droplets on your parade. 
By the time you drag yourself through the day and your first tutoring session arrives, you feel a strange combination of emotionally exhausted and absolutely fucking wired. You’re still seething, of course, but it’s less of an in-your-face anger and more of a crazed undertone at this point. You attempt a smile when you enter the library and see Hoseok, but you mustn’t be very close to achieving it because a brief expression of fear flits across his features and he straightens in his seat. Oops, you forgot Hoseok is a scaredy cat. It seems you’ve accidentally activated his deeply ingrained and well-exercised fight or flight response. 
“H-hey, y/n…. are you okay?” His concern for your wellbeing has seemed to override his initial fear response, and you feel a little touched amongst the angry bubbling of your insides. You try again to flash a smile, and this one appears to be a closer approximation than the last as some of the tension leaves Hoseok’s form. 
“It’s a lovely day,” you say, fighting a twitch that’s trying to make itself known in your left eye. “But enough about that, let’s talk about you. What are we going over today?”
Hoseok is hesitant, pausing a moment as his eyes survey your seated form like he’s assessing whether it’s worth it to probe a little more. He seems to reach a decision and turns to his bag, pulling out his things.  They hit the table with a tentative thunk, even the sound seeming cautious. He is treating you like a bomb that could go off at any moment and to be honest… you can’t blame him.
“I need your help brainstorming for a project that’s due in a few weeks,” he says, most of the fear having left his voice. “But I was wondering if we could practice essay writing some more, maybe timed? One of my exams is an essay.”
You wince for him, but nod and reach for your phone, unlocking it carelessly and trying to shove down the hot spark of anger that ignites down your spine at the post being the last thing you were looking at. With a little more anger than necessary, you flick that screen away and pull up the timer app. “Yeah, we can do that. We’ll split the session in half, I’ll start the timer.”
When you turn back to Hoseok, his gaze is on your phone as his brows draw together in a pensive sort of expression. Something you can’t decipher washes over his face in the next second, his eyes flitting to you and then to your phone before he’s sitting back, covering his momentary lapse with a bright smile. You’re a little bit suspicious but not bothered enough to really be wondering about whatever is going through his head. 
You start the session, and given how previous ones have gone you’re kind of expecting him to fall into the same serious, broody mood as he has been. To your complete and utter surprise, however, Hoseok begins acting in his usual dumbass antics right off the bat. He’s more animated than you’ve seen him in weeks, making weird Hoseok Noises™ and laughing loudly, even poking you playfully every now and then. 
You still feel a little stormy, but the longer the session goes on the more he has a smile fighting to be set free. It’s Hoseok, so of course that resistance doesn’t last long. By the time his session is drawing to a close he has you chuckling, a small smile on your face. He appears accomplished, grinning brightly himself before he catches sight of the time and it falters slightly. You wonder what could have incurred such a reaction before the realisation smacks you and suddenly the inklings of sunlight peeking through the clouds above your head are swallowed up again. Right, the whole thing with Jimin.
With the events of yesterday and this morning still fresh in your mind, the slight parallel hits a little closer to home than you’d like. 
You don’t have to wonder if Hoseok has noticed the backtrack in your mood, because the expression of slight regret playing across his features tells you he has. He gives you a somewhat strained smile as he hastens to pack his things away, almost hesitating once done as though he wants to stay despite a deeper desire to avoid Jimin. 
“I’m gonna head now, avoid some of the traffic on the way home,” he rambles, seemingly torn between meeting your eyes so he can smile and avoiding them since he’s fibbing and he knows you know. You squint at him.
“Yeah, that’s fine. Wouldn’t want you stuck in traffic,” you say, staring him dead in the eyes. “You live so far away after all.”
He lets out a nervous-sounding laugh, most likely at the way you’re looking at him, and slings his overstuffed bag over his shoulder. “Ahah… yeah.”
He lives about ten minutes away, the little turd.
You roll your eyes, giving the boy a brief smile. “See you on Friday, Hoseok.”
Somewhat relieved you’re not too mad, Hoseok grins and salutes, returning the sentiment before he’s hightailing it out of there faster than you can say “emotional constipation”. Well, now that you’re left to your own devices for the next eight or so minutes, you’re not really sure what to do. For a moment you sit there, staring in a somewhat disassociating manner at the dark, matte grey surface of the library table. It’s a little quieter than usual this afternoon, and it really allows you to zone out more. 
You don’t really want to look at your phone, lest it appear like a request for more suffering to the powers that be. The last thing you want is them thinking you’re hungry for more shitty luck and going out of their way to give you more. So with your phone out of the question, you’re left with nothing to do for the next few minutes except sit and stare at nothing, and maybe transcend the mortal plane a bit while you’re at it. Which is what you do, and do so thoroughly that when a voice sounds next to you, you nearly scream and shit yourself. 
“Uh, excuse me…”
“HOLYFUCK!” A strangled noise escapes you, body spinning to face whoever almost scared you to death. “DUDE, you can’t just—oh, hey Jungkook.”
The tall boy flushes as your face softens upon seeing him, the anger that resulted from your scare quickly fizzling away. Jungkook has a face that you’ve always found impossible to be angry at. It feels like being angry at a baby, or a puppy, or a little sugar glider with their big ol’ eyes and tiny paws. You just… can’t do it. You’re lucky he’s not aware of his power or else, like any other bastard adolescent male, he might use it to get up to no good. 
“Oh, sorry! Sorry—I didn’t mean to scare you, I- I just saw this on the ground and came to give it to you. I think… I think one of you dropped it. I don’t know if it was you or Hoseok.” Jungkook does his best to meet your eyes, voice soft as he stumbles ever so slightly over his words. He can’t manage to hold your gaze for long however, before his is flying away and straying to the floor, and the ceiling, anywhere but you really. One of his hands rises to sweep through his long, inky curls and rub the back of his neck, the other occupied with gripping a notebook by his side. 
You examine the object a little closer, quickly coming to the conclusion you’ve never seen it before in your life. “I don’t recognise it. Could be Hoseok’s though. I’ll keep it for him in case it is his. Thank you, Jungkook.”
The male freezes, completely disarmed for a moment as you flash him a grateful smile. He is so completely still in the seconds following that you can’t help but worry—did you look so bad just then that you shocked him into a coma? Do you have a pimple you don’t know about, glaring at him from somewhere humiliatingly obvious on your face? Is there something in your teeth??
"O-oh," Jungkook clears his throat, blinking twice and then giving his head a little shake as though to clear it. "It's no— It's no problem! I mean I kind of work here so... it would be irresponsible of me to leave it? I mean, not that I would, I—"
You can't help the brief chuckle that wrestles its way from your chest to escape unbidden, your hands reaching to take the notebook that he'd begun holding out for you not long after he started talking. In the process your fingertips brush his own and Jungkook lets out a sound that rings suspiciously like a squeak, hands yanking back so suddenly you almost drop the book before you can adjust your own grasp.
"Oop," he says, the tips of his ears beginning to glow pink beneath the tan of his skin. "Sorry, your next session is probably about to start. I'll leave you be."
Then, as abruptly as he'd arrived, he departs—  for a second your wired brain almost tricks you into seeing a cloud of dust form behind him from how fast he flees, reminiscent of the cartoon characters from your childhood. 
Well, certainly not the strangest interaction you’ve ever had with Jungkook.
Blinking, you adjust your grip on the book, fingers feeling like they’re slipping against the back for a moment before they finally stop sliding and the notebook remains firm in your hold. Weird, you think, but quickly dismiss it as nothing more than sweaty butterfingers—something you’re prone to getting when stressed. Which, lately, seems to be all the damn time. 
You slip the book into your bag, setting a mental reminder to bring it next time you have a session with Hoseok so that you can ask if it’s his. You don’t actually remember what his notebooks look like (you’ve never really made it a point to burn them into your memory) so there’s a fair chance it could be his. In which case, you’re going to make fun of him for being a dumb doo-doo and dropping his book without even realising. 
Considering Hoseok left before his session could even end, you were kind of expecting at least a few minutes of peace to yourself where you sit and dissociate by staring at the table again. You’re mistaken however, it seems, and you barely get to blink before there is a familiar set of footsteps making their way to your table and the subsequent light, melodic voice that sounds as they announce themselves loudly and clearly, as they usually do. 
“y/n! Honey, I’m here!”
You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. He seems to be in a good mood. May the lord give you strength. 
Jimin’s footfalls change and you look up just in time to catch him begin skipping over to where you’re seated at the table, arms swinging and a bright grin overtaking his face, almost making his eyes disappear. You stare at him, caught off-guard by his sudden sunny disposition (the past few sessions haven’t been awesome to him, after all), but he doesn’t stop grinning at you the whole way over. You think you catch Jungkook giving him a dubious look from the front desk, but can’t be sure before Jimin is right in front of you and blocking your view of anything else with his midsection.
“Hi y/n!” he greets again, body swaying slightly where he stands before he slings his bag off and moves to plop in the chair. “Isn’t it such a lovely day tod—oh? Oh!”
Torn from your inner musings of whether or not you should be concerned at Jimin’s sudden mood shift, your eyes whip to his hand where it’s reaching for the chair seat, plucking something from the surface before he suddenly turns and flops down as originally intended. 
Jimin’s face has morphed into a picturesque expression of curiosity as he holds up what was between him and his seat; a piece of paper, barely a slip, folded neatly in half. The nosy male is quick to open it, clearly enunciating the words that are apparently scrawled across the inside. 
“’You look pretty today’… Aw, y/n, you shouldn’t have !”
You roll your eyes so hard you almost feel the nerve pinch inside your skull. Jimin, of course, knows that you didn’t leave the note for him, but apparently today is one of the days he delights in your suffering. 
You almost contemplate the effort of giving a response before realising that you don’t even need one; the male has quickly lost interest in the paper, leaving it discarded on the table top, and is now staring somewhat wistfully out the window with a slightly dazed grin. Okay, what? When he’d first rocked up, he seemed like he was buzzed and brighter than the sun, in one of those energetic top-of-the-world moods. Now… you’re rethinking that observation. If anything, he seems a little distracted.
And as your session with Jimin begins and proceeds, you quickly realise just how true this is.
Initially, you’d been slightly worried about Jimin rocking up with the same knowledge everyone else on this damn campus no doubt possesses after this morning. However, the further into the session you get, the more it becomes apparent that he’s far too off in space to have picked up anything like that. Not to mention, the more you think about it, the more you realise that you’re not even sure if Jimin even goes here. So would he know about all the latest campus gossip and drama? He is friends with Taehyung…
Ultimately you’re unsure, but cautiously optimistic that Jimin hasn’t seen anything to do with the poem or the post that was released this morning. You also figure that, given how distracted he currently is, he probably wouldn’t have had a chance to pick up on the gossip running through the halls anyway— you’re glad that you don’t have to worry about Jimin pitching in his two cents as to who the author is, but honestly? A small part of you kind of wishes that he knew, if only so you could see who he supported in this scenario, like whether he would defend your honour or whether he would betray you and stomp all over your friendship garden by falling for Sera's propaganda.
You suppose there's no way to know, since you're definitely not going to inform him about everything just to find out. No, this peace and calm that comes from how simply detached he feels from the current messy climate of your life is nice and you don't really want to throw that away just yet. For now, you're content to just sit and let it be. It's actually helping a little more of your anger fizzle out, so that's a definitely plus as well.
Content as you may be to let Jimin stay oblivious and wrapped up in his own little world as he currently is, you can't help but wonder what on earth has him so out of it in the first place. You don't think you've ever seen him like this, all spacey and distracted, dreamy smiles sent into the air where his eyes stare, half-lidded and dazed. You'd almost worry he's high on something were it not the brief moments of clarity where he checks back in to be a little shit and tease you.
Today's session for Jimin consists of a few worksheets he's brought for you to assist him with— two of which are similar enough and the third nothing to do with the others— and you do your best to guide him through them. Usually Jimin isn't that hard to tutor. You figured out early on that he's motivated by positive reinforcement more than anything else, and praise is what tickles him most. With this little hack up your sleeve, you never usually have an issue with guiding him along in sessions. Today, however, not even praise seems to be enough to bring him back to the present long enough to pay attention and actually make a dent in the work.
You like to think you're a pretty patient person, but even you have limits and they're reached about two thirds of the way into the session when Jimin gets distracted once more mid-sentence and leaves you sitting in place waiting for him, for a solid three or so minutes.
"Hey, Park," you bark sharply, hoping that if you sound enough like Hoseok then maybe it will startle him fully out of his reverie. "What's going on with you today? What the hell has you so distracted?"
Jimin jumps in his seat at your sudden tone, and turns to you now with wide eyes. It takes a moment for your words to sink in through the shock, but as soon as they register he sags in his seat and the tension leaves his form. His eyes flick to the right, a shy, lazy smile tugging his lips as his thoughts clearly go somewhere else. Seriously? Just how easily distracted is he right now? You only just got his attention, for crying out loud!
Just when you feel about ready to reach over and strangle an answer out of him, the crimson-haired male speaks and halts your violent thoughts in place.
"It's, um..." Jimin rakes his teeth over his bottom lip, using both hands to fiddle with his decorative ice-cream pen, a sundae with chocolate and cherries sitting cutely on the end. "Say, do you..."
Great, you can't help but think, looks like you're in this for the long haul.
"Do I...?" you prompt him, when you decide he's dawdled long enough in giving you an answer.
"Do you... you know... uh." Jimin rakes a hand through his hair, a button on the sleeve of his light denim jacket almost catching on the strands. He pauses, taking a deep breath, and then turns to meet your eyes— wait, is he blushing? "y/n... you know Lee Sera, right?"
Your entire brain seems to halt, the tip of your pen hitting the tabletop despondently. There's something funny about the way he looks right now, something odd and niggling at the back of your mind, but you can't quite place it because you're sitting there with a mild case of whiplash. What. "What?"
Jimin lets out a noise that is somewhere between a chuckle and a giggle, and shifts his gaze down to the paper on the table before him. Fiddling with the ice-cream pen once more, he bites his lip to hide a shy smile— oh, you realise what it is now. He looks like a school girl talking about her crush.
Two beats pass before that thought really sinks in —oh. no—  and it's just in time for Jimin's continuation to sucker punch you in the face.
"Do you know if she... likes anyone?"
You blink. Once. Twice. Your brain decides to pitch in, the words mere millimetres from your lips, 'Give me one reason why I shouldn't just kill you right now—'
You just barely hold the words back. The noise you make instead doesn't really sound human, nor does it constitute an actual response of any sort, yet it's all the male gets and still, he's not deterred. It's as though he hasn't noticed the steam currently beginning to spill from the surface of your head, coiling tendrils betraying your current fuming state. What kind of cruel injustice is this? No, you almost want to plead to the heavens and appeal the cruelty currently taking place on this earth— please no. 
“Y-you’re asking me if… if she…” You can’t seem to get the words out, the sounds choking in your throat. Jimin does seem to notice this, taking a moment to send you a somewhat concerned expression. It’s brief, though, and he’s soon off in his thoughts once again.
“Yeah,” he says, appearing bashful for a moment. “Although, that’s kind of silly of me, isn’t it. I mean, it’s Sera. Of course she has someone special, right?”
For one thing, you’re wondering just how you’ve managed to get this far in your tutoring sessions without finding out about Jimin’s evident crush on your ex-best friend. Like, is this a recent thing? Or is it more of a slow-burn, consistent for a long period of time thing? And on the other hand, given the context of the situation (despite full details being privy only to you), you can’t help but marvel at Jimin’s apparent poor taste in suitors.
Really, of all the people he could happen to have a crush on, it has to be her?!
“Nggh…” you choke down the words that attempt to rise to your lips, suddenly very uncomfortable in your seat. A barrage of thoughts rain upon your brain, overloading your mind. 
Does he know? Does he know about the whole mystery poem ordeal that has so far worked to ruin your life in more than one way? Has he seen the posts? Especially the one that Sera made this morning? It’s hard to pinpoint, but when Jimin doesn’t elaborate further and simply resorts to doodling on his paper as he disappears with the fairies once more, you muse that maybe he hasn’t. If he’d seen it, surely he’d be mentioning it as he spoke of her? Bitterly, you recall that no one today could seem to pass up the opportunity to praise her with every fibre of their being. Just the memory makes hot flames of anger lick at your chest, and you do your best to cool them before Jimin picks up on the Big Kill Energy beginning to emanate from your general direction. 
Somewhat thankfully, it’s at this moment that the timer on your phone goes off, signifying the end of the session. A long breath of relief escapes you as you reach for the device, sliding your thumb across the screen to dismiss the timer. The sound seems to have brought Jimin back to the present too, as he’s begun packing away his things in an indolent manner, humming softly to himself. He pulls his phone out, skimming through his feed distractedly as he does so. You decide you may as well do the same, beginning to pack up while he does. There’s no rush, so you actually take your time packing your things away instead of hastily cramming them all in your backpack at once like you usually are inclined to do. 
You almost zone out yourself before a sharp gasp breaks you from whatever reverie you were about to get stuck in. Your eyes whip up to Jimin and, immediately after seeing the expression on his face, a feeling of dread begins to creep into your gut.
“Oh my god…” he murmurs, hushed, eyes wide and glued to the screen of his phone. A beat passes before he scrambles to take it into his hold, ring-adorned finger whipping across the screen as he rapidly reads whatever is on there. You don’t like the way he seems to glow with each moment more that passes. 
“y/n!” he exclaims very suddenly and very, very loudly.  You jump in a combination of fright and tension. “y/n! She— she’s—!”
Oh, god. You wish you could sink into the earth and never resurface. He’s seen it.
Cramming the last few items in your bag, you make use of the fact that Jimin is still staring at his phone and pretend that you don’t hear him, rising from your chair and beginning to walk towards the library doors. Jimin scrambles to his feet, following after you like a puppy, or a child wishing to show their parent something important. “y/n!”
“Hm?” You throw the noise over your shoulder half-heartedly, looking hastily for the best escape route that Jimin isn’t likely to follow you down. Unfortunately this isn’t downtown, this is the second-biggest library on your campus, and there is nowhere you can go that Jimin wouldn’t be able to follow you.
“I— y/n! Do you know that whole mystery poem author thing? I heard something about it a while ago but I just— I only just read about it and! y/n!” Jimin reaches out to grasp you by the sleeve, effectively halting you for a moment.  “It’s just been found that Lee Sera is the author!”
Lord give you strength, you absolutely want to die. 
“O-oh?” The utterance is literally ground through your teeth, but Jimin seems to be in such a state of euphoria that he doesn’t even notice. Of course. 
“I mean, this is such a shock but… I’m not surprised.” The male is positively beaming with pride, looking down at his phone fondly. You think you’re going to be sick.  “She’s amazing, isn’t she? And she’s so humble to have kept quiet about the whole thing, too. Wah, she’s so….”
You don’t know whether you’re going to implode from anger or frustration, or maybe a dangerous cocktail of both. It’s as though there are live wires beneath your skin, nerves abuzz and wrought with the urge to strangle someone (preferably a certain someone) or hit something (preferably your head, against a desk).
“She sure is something,” you say, the toothy smile you slap on completely juxtaposing the bitter note to your voice. Jimin again, bless him, completely misses it. 
You’re so close to the doors, but not close enough. Please… you just want to go home and angry cry into your pillow.
“I never really paid it much attention, but now that I’m rereading the poem… she’s so talented,” Jimin’s tone is full of awe, and you know that you felt murderous this morning but now you feel that and incredibly done. When will karma finish rawing you? Have you not suffered enough? Was everyday living not torture enough? Jimin’s lovestruck babbling stops for no man, “It’s no wonder it blew up so much, she’s such a gifted—”
“Who’s such a gifted what?”
You jump slightly at the sound of a new voice, eyes whipping over to catch sight of Kim Taehyung as he slips into the library through the widening gap in the doors and makes his way over. It seems he’s donned a loose white shirt and black pants ensemble today, something you notice because of the way they flow as he walks. His question was directed at Jimin, but his eyes seem to be surveying your expression to get a read on the situation. 
Regrettably, you can feel that the face you’re currently pulling… really isn’t a good one. 
The second he sees him, Jimin changes targets and latches onto his friend’s arm instead. “Tae! The author of that poem you’re always raging about—oofft—”
You don’t quite catch it, but you swear you glimpse Taehyung— whose cheeks seem to have taken on a flushed tone— deliver a powerful elbow to Jimin’s ribs, who grunts but nonetheless continues, undeterred. You’ve really gotta give him points for his determination and perseverance at this stage. 
“The author of the poem, it’s Lee Sera! I know I always ignored you when you talked about it, but now that I think about it, it makes so much sense!” Jimin’s gushing again, and you really think you might be sick sometime soon. Is it possible to be so angry that you become nauseous? You suppose you’re about to find out. “She’s one of the best in her class, isn’t she? Of course she’s able to make such a beautiful poem that goes viral the second it’s released— it’s her!”
Taehyung’s eyes had been trained upon Jimin the whole time he spoke, but now they’re sweeping to you and for some reason, you find yourself freezing in place under their weight. The dark cocoa of his iris’ swim with something indecipherable, a curious tilt to the corner of his heart-shaped mouth. It’s as though he’s watching for your reaction to something. His gaze doesn’t leave you for the entire moment that he answers his friend, “Uh huh. Is that so?”
You’re unnerved— or maybe it’s just a very sudden, very potent overload of your senses. You’re angry, you’re upset and hurt; you’re frustrated now more than ever at the injustice of the situation and how much of an absolutely helpless position you have found yourself in. You want to leave, and you know that if you don’t soon, you’re probably going to start angry crying in the middle of the library and that is a mess you absolutely do not want to experience handling. Besides, you don’t think poor Jungkook at the reception is really equipped to handle those sorts of breakdowns. You really wouldn’t want to put him through it either. 
“Right, well I really have to go. I have a bunch of readings to do, so… better get started on those,” you announce loudly, cutting Jimin off before he can start again and drive you any further towards insanity than he already has. “Finish those sheets, Jimin. Don’t make me chase you up.”
Jimin whips his hand to his forehead in a salute, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. Already turning on your heel, you make your escape while you can and wave goodbye. “Okay, see you! Have fun doing whatever it is you’re about to do!”
And then you absolutely yeet yourself out the library doors and all but bolt home. 
Alright. You have a date with your pillow and some tears, and you’re not about to miss it. May the gods of fortune guide you home without anymore incidents that make you want to slam your head against a brick wall, please and thank you. 
x         x         x          x    
“— I just, sort of like, you know, write whatever comes to my head. Like, whatever I feel comes from the heart—”
She follows you like the plague, bits and pieces of her and oh-so-casual reminders that she exists and is tormenting you, everywhere you go, and it takes every inch of your willpower to block her out and keep walking as you have every other time you encountered her preaching to admirers in the public spaces you frequent on campus. Sometimes Sera sees you, and you think that if she weren’t surrounded by half a hundred people sucking her toes then she might chase after you. You’ve been screening her calls, after all, and there have been a lot of them. 
You regret to say, that in the days following that cursed announcement, things don’t begin to die down nearly as much as you hope they would. People are still talking, still whispering about it, and instead of it becoming old news it’s as though instead it’s a rampant forest fire, feeding ravenously on the hot gossip passed between peers at brunch, posts typed out meticulously on various media and dramatic recounts told by the friends of those that, wisely, seem to live under a rock. 
You, of course, couldn’t be any less pleased with how the situation is panning out. 
Your hot, scalding, unadulterated cauldron of bubbling rage has since settled down to a reluctant simmer. This is partly because you realised it is kind of unhealthy to be that angry so constantly, and partly because you’re not a fan of the constipation that results from being so tense with anger. You lose some, you lose some, you suppose. It’s lose-lose these days, babey!
The climate at university isn’t looking good for you, and each day passes with great testament to your willpower and determination not to purchase an automated vehicle and run yourself over. You still go to classes, and attend even the stupidest of lectures and tutorials (you’ve had to suffer through experiencing Seokjin more often than you’d like, but he seems to have toned himself down a little the past few times you’ve seen him— perhaps he’s caught wind of that [redacted] post and actually feels sorry for you?... No, he’s probably just got the flu and doesn’t want to use his voice up to torment you all at once). To be honest, you even kind of forgot about Jimin and his apparent crush for a while— probably would have continued forgetting if it weren’t for your sudden recollection approximately three minutes before his session on Friday. 
With Hoseok gone, early as usual these days, you’re left to stew in your own thoughts and it’s barely a few minutes into dissociating that you remember Jimin’s last session and the knowledge that unfolded towards the end of it. 
True to your luck and arguably a few minutes early to being right on time, you hear Jimin’s patent patter of footsteps and fight the urge to sink in your seat. You really need to get it together because this is ridiculous, you’re not prepared for anything and everything is out to ruin your day one way or another. You’re well on your way to crashing and burning in some sort of way but you still have no idea when exactly it’s gonna go down. An absolute travesty. You’re a mess waiting to get even messier at barely a moment’s notice. 
“Afternoon, y/n!” Jimin crows in greeting as he nears you, a skip in his step and three books in his arms on topics that have absolutely nothing to do with each other. Does he even go here? You really wonder sometimes. “The sun says hello!”
You’re unsure whether he’s referring to himself, or the fact that the sun has indeed just peeked out from behind the clouds that have obscured it since early this morning, but either way the best you can manage is a strained smile in returned greeting. You can’t really bring yourself to look at him the same. Have you lost respect for Jimin after finding out that he has a massive crush on Sera, the person single-handedly responsible for ruining your life the most it has ever been ruined before and then going to ruin it further after you confronted her about it? Absolutely. Can you tell him without sounding like an absolute asshole because evidently to everyone but you Sera has managed to keep up a stellar appearance and benevolent persona? No, no you cannot and it’s probably going to end up making you drink questionable fluids later.
Somewhat stupidly optimistic, a small part of you hopes that maybe it was a brief crush, a spur of the moment affection erection, and that this Jimin in front of you now has realised the error of his ways and has moved on from this blight in his romantic record. 
Of course, this is not to be, and the second there’s a lull in conversation after he’s begun working on the task you set him, he begins chattering away as he scribbles his half-hearted answers on the paper. If he starts dotting his I’s with hearts, you really might k-word yourself. 
The topic of his vocal musings is, of course, one Lee Sera. You manage to sit there as he waxes the usual poetic, the stuff you heard last session and the things you’ve heard floating in the halls, with minimal incidence. While he’s talking about Sera, you’re constructing a little zen garden in the depths of your mind and it’s taking all of your brain power. Well, almost all of it— you do catch one little tidbit that makes you halt in your mental raking of sand.
“-- and I mean, I know it’s dumb, but I just can’t stop thinking about all those conspiracy posts on the forum, and, like… well, now they know who the author is, but they haven’t discovered the muse, you know? So like…”
The implication of his words hits you like a freight train, and the anger sizzling in your abdomen cooling suddenly into an odd sense of dread. Oh, oh no.
“I don’t think it is, but what if it really is me she wrote it about…?”
It seems, that Jimin— bless his pure, naive heart— has begun to hope. Learning that “Sera” is the author of a poem he’s suspected to be starred in seems to have crumbled the floodgate keeping the bulk of his feelings at bay. As he continues to mutter and ramble, pausing in his writing every so often to doodle a heart, or a tree with a heart and initials on it, you realise just how deep he seems to be in this little infatuation. 
The very prospect of there being a chance his feelings aren’t unrequited? He can’t help but cling to it, and the more you hear tumble from his mouth the more you realise this tomato-haired crackhead is actually a hopeless romantic, and literally cannot stop himself from hoping, from feeding that fantasy he has. 
Sitting there and listening to him, as the person knowing who the poem is really about and where Sera’s fixation doesn’t lie, you begin to feel a little guilty. You can’t tell him, can’t inform him of the reality because it would compromise you— not only that, he’s so taken with Sera and caught up in the romantic glow of the situation as he sees it that you doubt he’d believe you. That saddens you a little, that realisation. You’ve been friends with Jimin for months now, you’ve tutored him and even had a few impromptu therapy sessions when he rocks up a mess; but not once have you ever seen him or Sera so much as glance at each other, not once has his name passed her lips, and yet… if you were to confess to him, right here and right now, that you are the real author of the poem… would he believe you?
A part of you suspects the answer, and it makes your heart sink. 
You can’t bring yourself to say anything to him. The rest of his session is spent stewing internally in your own perplexing cocktail of guilt and hurt, and you realise only as it ends and you watch him leave through the door that you never even had a chance to convince him that he’s not the muse. It feels cruel, thinking of doing such a thing when you now know how attached he is to the possibility of being the muse with Sera as the author. It would be an awful thing for you to do, to stomp on the morsels of hope that have bloomed within him for his crush. But it doesn’t change the fact that you are the original author, and you know who the poem was really written about— is it not the morally right thing to do, to tell him the truth?
Do you protect his feelings, or do you hurt them for a greater good?
You don’t know which is the right thing to do in this situation, and when you eventually pack your things up and exit the library, it’s with a sick feeling in your stomach and a foreboding tingling of your sixth sense that tells you this… isn’t going to end well.
x     x     x     x     x     x
VVVVVBBT. VVVVVVVBT. VVVVVVVBT. VVVVVBT.
It seems to take longer for the ringing to end this time, you note, as you somewhat despondently  watch the phone vibrate and move across the table slightly from the force of it. Then again, it could just be the thousands of calls you’ve screened over the weekend that have you feeling so weary. Most would get the message that your continued silence and refusal to answer indicate, but apparently not Sera. You’ve always known she’s stubborn, and determined, but this is borderline crazy and you’re having trouble wrapping your head around the emergence of all these facets you never knew about or even noticed before now. 
The weekend just gone, the two days that are meant to be your one time of reprieve and sanctuary from the messy shithole your world has become lately, had been desecrated. Not even in the safety of your own home could you pretend your anxieties didn’t exist, the tell-tale vibrations of your phone and the occasional, persistent series of dings that alert you to a new message were ceaseless. It’s a little concerning, her dogged dedication to attempting to contact you, but at this point you’re not even interested in psycho-analysing it. You just want a break, and for the “block call” function on your phone to maybe actually work for once. 
Actually, you’ve been (unfortunately, regrettably) given a lot of insight into sides of Sera you’d never witnessed before, faces she’d kept hidden behind a carefully prepared facade and the persona she wanted to present to the world for the duration of your friendship. The messages she sends you come in groups, and more often than not in completely contradicting tones. Begging, pleading, empty apologies, anger, spite— you’ve seen them all, sometimes in the same message. For the most part, they’re shameless pleas and begs for you to talk to her, to answer her calls and listen to what she has to say. Some of them, though, give you a massive whiplash when you read them.
One such text from mid-Sunday reads from the notification bar, “i’m doing what you wanted, what the fuck is your problem? why are you so mad? honestly, at this point it’s a little selfish of you, i’m sacrificing so damn much just to…” 
Another, barely an hour after that one, was quick to backtrack, “llisten y/n, i’m sso fuckiggn sorry for that last tesct. it was so uncalled for im so sorry. i’m trying so hrard but you wont evenn anser my callss, and im jsut, imr realluy having g scucjh a hard time with all of this stuff goigng on adn…”
You didn’t click on the notification or open them, so you don’t actually know what she says in the latter half of her messages. You don’t think you want to though, if the start of some of them are any indication as to what the rest will hold. 
As if your phone being constantly lit up in some way or another due to her wasn’t enough, you also had to bear witness to the rest of the bullshit manifesting at her hands. In actuality, it was largely this that is responsible for relighting your rage pit and getting you back on the “incredibly pissed and absolutely unimpressed” track. 
Contrary to the texts and voicemails Sera left you over the course of the weekend, she is simultaneously active on the cursed forum that she used to start all this, and the posts you've been seeing only serve to fuel your anger. At one point you got so mad you nearly threw your phone into your pot of noodles, the only thing stopping you being that you’re better than that and you’d rather throw yourself off the bank into the nearby river than let her get one up on you in any way. 
Pleading and begging she would be in your inbox, and then she’d turn and press send on a post in the forum that completely contradicts whatever crap she bawled at you in her messages. The forum is currently an absolute mess of shipping posts (no longer starring you, but her) with varying suspected muses, the odd conspiracy post,  and questions directed her as the ‘author’ that she answered in full character. You could deal with the shipping posts (well, all but one. That one made your blood boil and your stomach twist into an ugly pit of warped envy), but her impersonating you as the author and answering questions about your work as though she wrote it herself? You’re ready to spill blood. 
The most common question, of course, in all its variations is something best encapsulated by this particular gem that shows up late Sunday evening: ‘omg, i love love love moonlight sonata! the second i read it i couldn’t help but fall in love, whether with you or the poem idk yet! I just wanted to know, like probably everyone does, who was the muse?’
That [redacted]’s response to this is probably the one that gets your blood boiling the most too. 
‘hi, thank you so so much for all the love! its so strange since this was never meant to get out and i never really get such response to my works,, but i’m getting more used to it and im so so grateful!! haha! its actually funny you say that,, it was so embarrassing at the time but i once had a teacher say that they thought i could make someone fall in love with me with a poem alone ><  hehe i guess they were right! and i did write moonlight sonata for someone, but i’m not sure if i should reveal that just yet… you’ll have to wait and see!’
Murder is illegal and so is manslaughter. Again, with more feeling. Murder is illegal, and so is manslaughter. There. You take in a deep breath, attempting desperately to find some zen after recalling all the forum posts you’d seen over the duration of the weekend. You suppose the only silver lining you’re going to be able to find in this is the fact that Sera doesn’t actually know who you wrote the poem for. Well, she might have a suspicion, but you’ve never told her. And even so, there would be no point in her ‘revealing’ who your muse is, since she’s claimed she is the author and ‘confessing’ someone would lead to circumstances she’d likely rather avoid.
But, now that you think about it, shouldn’t that mean that she’d try and avoid mentioning it altogether? If so, why is she feeding it every chance she gets…? 
You don’t get to spare that train of thought much time, since despite how long the weekend drags on, the next day arrives very quickly. Before you know it, almost the entire day is gone and you’re zipping through your tutoring session with Hoseok, helping the somewhat frantic boy with a last-minute assessment he’d completely forgotten about. You’ve spent the whole day successfully avoiding anything to do with Sera and that stupid poem, and you’re actually feeling quite good at this point, in comparison to how you’ve been feeling the past, well, the past month or so. The hour passes quicker than you’d like and before long you’re packing your things up and helping Hoseok with his own bulging assortment of textbooks and notepads before they all go tumbling to the floor. You swear you see some receipts with hasty scribbles littering the bottom of his bag but you try not to look since you don’t want to ruin your progress and stress yourself out. You’re in such an oddly peaceful mood you’re actually thinking of asking Jimin if he wants to spend the session outside under the trees in the new garden the university brought in. Uncharacteristic, you know, but what is the human experience if not getting so stressed and exceeding your emotional capacity so extensively that you transcend all planes of feeling and feel contrarily at peace?
It’s as you’re exiting the library after your session with Hoseok, carrying some of his things for him while he fixes his bag, that the universe decides to remind you of your place and the fact that you can never truly avoid your problems in life. Apparently, they’re prone to chasing you down and sniffing you out like a bloodhound, and like a particularly nasty yeast infection they never truly go away until you seek professional help and purchase an antibiotic restraining order for that shit. 
You barely get the words, ‘See you on Wednesday, Hoseok’, out of your mouth before you hear another familiar sound, much sooner than you anticipated. Hoseok returns the farewell and turns away, still cramming the rest of his things in his bag as he begins to move off. A laugh, light and airy and very familiar, brushes your ears and you turn with a slight smile on your face. Excellent, given he doesn’t see Hoseok making his quick escape, then he’ll probably still be in a good enough mood to agree to studying outside with you.
You turn, greeting already on the tip of your tongue, and promptly feel the words die in your throat and the smile on your lips drop completely. Oh, for the love of fuck.
Jimin is smiling, laughing, as he comes down the hallway, cheeks flushed pink and eyes disappearing into gleeful crescents— it’s a sight that would made you smile if it weren’t for the fact that he’s not alone.   
The woman of the hour, the source of your suffering for the past month or so, is striding along next to the oblivious male, like the scorpion perched on the frog’s back. She’s placed her hand on the back of his arm as they walk, smiling at something he’s said as he chatters away, resembling an eager puppy as he does so. You recognise the move as one of her favourite lightly flirty ones. 
Somewhat belatedly, your flight response kicks in, and you go to move and leave while you can—  but its not before Sera turns and notices you standing there, mid-movement.
The shift is instantaneous. You might have thought that the interested expression she was directing at Jimin was genuine, if it weren’t for the way her entire demeanour changes the second she catches sight of you. Your first instinct is to be angry that she’d managed to find her way to Jimin, and that he’d probably fall for whatever bullshit spouted from her mouth about being the author, but as you see the slight, victorious flicker pass through her gaze, you become angry for another reason entirely. The suspicion weighing heavy in your gut makes your blood boil as Sera straightens, angling her body away from Jimin completely and all but non-verbally dismissing him, as though he’s no longer even there.
Jimin halts, brows drawing together as he takes in the change in Sera’s behaviour, confusion colouring his puppy-like features as he looks around for anything that could have triggered it. His eyes fall on you and they light in recognition, smile returning to his face as he waves at you, some of his crimson locks falling across his forehead from the movement. “Oh, y/n! Hey! I was just on my way to the session!”
Something churns in your gut, a foreboding feeling that feels far too icky to touch. 
 He takes a step closer, but pauses when Sera moves forward. Your entire body is tense with the conflicting urges to run and sock her in the face, limbs coiled and ready to spring you away. You’re going to have a massive crick in your neck after this. She begins stepping closer, hand stretching out as though to touch your arm, her brows drawing together in as close an approximation as she can get to regretful.
“y/n, I’ve been trying to talk to you all day,” she says, tone having adopted an edge you’re very familiar with. Is she stupid? You know all her manipulation tactics, what is the point in employing them now? You think you know, though, and the thought only serves to stoke the bubbling pit of molten rage in your stomach. 
Her hand reaches for your arm, trying to touch it, and you move it out of the way before she can, taking a few firm steps back.  “Don’t touch me,” you warn, unable to help the glare that your features are pulled into. “I’m not interested in talking to you. I don’t want to.”
She’s really pushing it. You’re a patient woman, but even you have a limit and she’s fast approaching it. 
A flicker of irritation flashes across Sera’s features before she masks it with her go-to ‘kicked puppy’ look. From the corner of your eye, you see Jimin flounder in confusion, probably because he has absolutely no idea what happened between you. 
“y/n,” Sera whimpers, and when you see Jimin shift in concern behind her you realise why she’s acting the way she is. She’s using him as collateral, and she used him for land development to actually lock you down. Seems she doesn’t take being avoided very well. “Why are you being so harsh? I— I’m doing what you asked, why are you still so mad?”
You can’t help the venomous response that rips itself off your tongue, glare deepening. “Cut the shit. You know exactly why I’m pissed— it’s the same fucking reason I was pissed last week, except now it’s worse because you’ve made it worse. How could you possibly think any of what you’ve been doing is what I asked?”
You can only be glad that Hoseok has already left and the hallway is mostly deserted, the sole witness being Jimin to the spectacle beginning to unfold as Sera places a hand to her chest, sniffing and throwing her other hand out for emphasis. “Please, y/n, what do I have to do to fix this? I really have been doing what you asked, I’ve been—”
It’s as though something snaps within you, almost an entire week of her bullshit placing you at your wits end. You’re fuming, practically spitting flames, and it’s just barely that you hold yourself back from wrapping your hands around her throat. “You’ve been doing nothing but make things worse for me! You started this whole thing, you continued feeding into it even though you knew what it would mean for me— there is no fixing this!”
“y/n,” Sera’s eyes have begun to water, and you’re so enraged you don’t even see Jimin taking a few alarmed steps closer. “Please, I-I’m so sorry, I’ve said it a thousand times that I am s-so sorry—”
“Don’t you dare come to me and tell me you’re sorry. You’re not sorry, you were never sorry, and you clearly don’t regret a thing because the entire time since last Wednesday all you’ve been doing as parading around and proclaiming yourself as the author of that stupid poem when we both know it isn’t you!”
Sera flinches back, a visible clash of hurt and rage whipping across her features. It seems she settles on the latter emotion, face dropping into a glare and mouth opening to hurl a response back. The front she has put up is falling apart the longer this goes on. “I’ve told you so many times how much I regret what I did, how can you say—”
“y/n, what the hell?” Jimin’s voice has a sharp edge you don’t think you’ve ever heard before as he steps forward suddenly, looking incredulous and angry at once as he suddenly reminds you of his presence. “She’s the author, stop being so horrible. Isn’t she your friend? How could you doubt her? Is it so hard to believe that she’d want to write a poem for the person she likes?”
You’re momentarily stunned by his words, confused as to why he’s stepping in to defend her so avidly even with his little crush. It takes a moment, but it clicks eventually— dread fills the pit of your stomach as you realise that the idealistic hopes Jimin had revealed to you last session about being the subject of the poem have been exploited by a scorpion wishing to cross the pond.
“Shut up, this doesn’t concern you.”
Torn violently from your thoughts by the harsh, unexpected words, your gaze whips back to Sera, eyes wide. Jimin flinches, a soft noise of shock and surprise escaping him as his own wide-eyed gaze centers on her and hurt floods his deep chocolate irises. “Wh-what? But you said—?”
“Shut. Up,” she grinds out through teeth clenched so tight that part of you thinks they might shatter beneath the pressure.
Jimin fumbles, his confusion urging him to continue when he probably shouldn’t. “When we were walking here you said that you… that I was—”
Sera explodes, like a bomb with faulty wires and a timer that went off too soon. “I LIED! I’m not the author, and even if I was, that poem would never be about YOU!”
In the seconds that follow her booming exclamation, her words ring in the absolute silence of the hall. For a moment, it’s still. Then your eyes flick to Jimin’s face and you see how it falls, and all of a sudden it hits you— the realisation of what she just said, and who she said it to. How awful Jimin must feel, to hear those things directed at him. Now, for a moment, you see red, and you feel it slowly climb up your body from your toes to your fingertips and to your chest. You aren’t even aware of moving until you’re barely a foot away from Sera and your arm is whipping through the air, body apparently more in control than your brain.
You’ve never slapped anyone before, didn’t ever think that you really would, but the motion comes easily and the harsh impact of your hand against Sera’s cheek is satisfying in an odd, sickening way. Apparently you pack quite a punch when absolutely fucking livid, because her head turns from the force of your blow, her eyes shooting wide. You’ve left a mark in her foundation. Jimin’s crushed expression crosses your mind’s eye once more and suddenly the satisfaction you felt prior isn’t enough. You go to move again.
You get barely a split second into the movement before arms are looping under your armpits, your body being hauled away and out of hitting range. You’re so angry you barely pay attention to who it is, your focus on the piece of work in front of you and the absolute spitting rage that has swallowed you whole at the sight of her.
“How dare you—” you seethe, the words spilling like acid from your tongue faster than you can think them. “How could you say that to him—”
Everything suddenly hastens into movement from the stillness that had possessed it before. Distantly, you realise the person restraining you has stopped moving backwards and is attempting to calm you, but that doesn’t carry much weight when you hear a choked noise and your gaze is drawn suddenly to the side.
Jimin has taken a step back, almost stumbling in his leather boots, his hands trembling and brows drawn together, expression nothing short of crestfallen. You swear you catch his bottom lip quiver, and then your attention is taken by the way his dark eyes begin to water right in front of you. You’re almost rooted to the spot in shock as they begin to fill with tears, but you don’t get to see them fall because before they can,  Jimin turns on his heel and begins walking away, pace quick and hurried. 
“y/n.” The red has cleared from your vision enough that you now realise the person restraining you is Hoseok, his voice sounding close to your ear. He speaks again and you freeze because it’s with a tone you’ve never heard come from him before. It’s fury, but quiet and controlled unlike your hot spark of rage, and it makes you snap back into your senses instantly, spine straightening. “Go after him. He’s hurting.”
The brain cell rattling around in your brain reserved for mortal combat might be telling you to finish Sera off while you can, but Jimin is your friend and the reason you want to kill her in the first place is because she did hurt him. And the look on his face… you’ve never seen it on him before and you never want to again. For whatever reason, her careless words seem to have cut him deep, and you need to go and make sure he’s okay.
Without a second thought, you slip out of Hoseok’s arms and he lets you go. You begin in the direction that Jimin is going, footsteps hastening in an attempt to close the distance. You forget about Sera in favour of chasing more pressing things. “Jimin—”
The call had slipped out of your lips unwittingly, but the sound of it seems to set Jimin off. He quickens his pace further, and his legs aren’t that much longer than yours but the muscles are clearly more developed since you’re eating his dust even more than before.  He disappears around the corner, and you just barely catch sight of his behind before you have to push to glimpse him once more. 
Whether he doesn’t want to be followed by anyone, or whether he— heaven forbid— thinks it’s Sera coming after him, Jimin does his best to try and lose you. Around twists and turns, down hallways that you didn’t even know this building had, you chase him for what feels like forever and you can’t pinpoint where but somewhere in that time the two of you transitioned to almost running, Jimin’s light jog-speedwalk fusion easily getting the better of your own weak attempt. 
Despite the heaviness of the situation, you can’t help but marvel that he really didn’t successfully streak across the university sports field for nothing— he’s super fast, and the only reason you’re able to keep up somewhat is through the temporary rush of adrenaline that slapping Sera gave you and the sheer determination not to lose him. You don’t normally have this much stamina, after all, but you don’t think Jimin is going to be running out on the other hand either. If he takes you up one more flight of stairs it’s game over for you. 
“Jimin, wait—” you attempt to call out once or twice, but he never turns around, and each time you do so just results in him moving faster. You get the message quickly, but still have to bite your tongue to quell the natural urge to call out that rises. 
The longer he goes, the more frantic he seems. Once or twice you think you see his shoulders shake, but can’t tell if it’s him or the rattling of your vision from your jerky movements. Jimin can’t evade you forever though, and this building and its hallways aren’t endless. Eventually you reach a dead-end, and the red-haired male gives up. He stumbles a little, making it through the doorway before he moves to the wall, his back to you. 
Slowing down from your jog, you feel the tax of the exercise catch up with you as your breathing works to compensate the uncharacteristic energy use. You pause as you make your way towards him, somewhat tentative now he’s backed in a corner. Well, corner might not be the right word for it. Somehow, in all his evading, Jimin has managed to lead the two of you to the small balcony on the top floor of the building, barely anything more than a little alcove to overlook the horizon. It faces the direction that the sun sets, and you receive a view of that now, the soft reds, pinks  and oranges a contrast to the light blue of Jimin’s denim jacket but a compliment to the scarlet of his hair. 
Despite the fact you chased him this far, wanting to comfort him, now that you’re here… you feel kind of bad for intruding. Still, you didn’t tail him through the entire building for nothing. Tentatively, you make your way over to where he is. You’re not very loud, but he seems to sense your arrival when you step out onto the balcony with him, back still to you. You take another step closer, going to peer around his shoulder, but he flinches, bringing his hand up over the side of his face and using the other to wipe under his nose.
“Don’t look,” he sniffs. “This is humiliating.”
At his words, you feel your heart sink right down to your feet. The resulting sensation is an empty ache in your chest, something you think you can best describe as empathy that is a little too deeply rooted. Suddenly you realise that, in a way, this is your fault. You wrote the poem that ended up hurting him, and even though you weren’t the one who said those things to him, you’re the one that provided the fodder. 
You don’t know what to say, so much was on the tip of your tongue trying to burst forth before, but now it’s as though your voice is stuck in your throat. You swallow, shuffling the slightest bit closer, and attempt to pull something meaningful from the dredges of your mind. 
“It’s okay. Everyone looks a little bit ugly when they cry, you know.” Not what you intend to come out, but it comes out anyway. 
It pulls an unwitting laugh from Jimin though, the sound tinged with the echo of a sob. He turns and presses his back to the wall, covering his face with both hands, and slides down until he’s seated on the floor, knees drawn up. You watch him for a moment, the way his form trembles slightly and he sniffs, before you’re carefully placing yourself down next to him, trying not to be too obnoxious in your movements.
You wait a moment, partly because you want to see if he is going to say anything and partly because you, yourself, have no idea where to start. It occurs to you, though, that maybe what he wants isn’t comfort in the form of words. When he doesn’t speak, and the moment still doesn’t feel right to say anything, you ease a little closer and, when he doesn’t protest or shift away, you do the only thing you can think might comfort him in this moment. 
Silently, you move your arm up and around, slipping it over his shoulders and pulling him close to you into a half-embrace, feeling somewhat like a mother hen sheltering her chick from the harshness of the world. Jimin stills for a second, frozen in your arms, but then he lets himself fall into you and it seems the proverbial dam holding his tears at bay breaks. 
He lets himself sob now, hands still over his face and his body shaking against your side as he curls up into you and draws his knees closer to his body. His tears flood his hands, some escaping to drip down onto your legs and shirt.  Your heart aches at the sounds escaping him— trust Sera to unintentionally pinpoint someone’s deeply hidden trauma when insulting them. The only thing stronger than the dislike you feel for her right now is the regret that you allowed the circumstances of your own situation to spill out and affect other innocent people in your life, like Jimin.
 You spend some time simply sitting there, letting Jimin cry out the hurt against you at the cost of your shirt and jeans, running your hand soothingly along his back and arm. You place your other hand on the knee closest to you, not much but another small symbol of comfort you hope he receives. He’s in a state for a while, sobbing and hiccuping until his voice grows a little hoarse and thick from the snot congesting his nose. Eventually, he calms enough that his body no longer shakes with his weeping, and after a period of silence broken only by a few sniffles here and there, the male pulls away so that he’s no longer leaning on you like the tower of Piza. 
You let him slip out of your hold, simply sitting and waiting for him to speak— you could sense the intention in the way he wipes his face and swallows, readying himself. You don’t have to wait long. 
“This is probably the one thing I’m most afraid of in life, you know,” he croaks softly, a humourless laugh tacked onto the end. Your heart gives a painful throb, but you bite your tongue from comforting him just yet. You can feel there’s more to come. 
Jimin seems to finally manage to wipe his face somewhat clean, at last letting his hands drop onto his lap and allowing his head to fall back softly against the wall. His profile is illuminated by the last reaches of the sun, casting him in a soft pink glow that almost disguises the redness around his eyes and nose. 
Watching him so keenly as you are, it doesn’t escape you when he opens his mouth to speak again and his chin wobbles, his gaze directed to the ceiling of the alcove. His voice wavers, growing strained as he vocalises the thoughts weighing him down so.
“It’s kind of stupid, isn’t it?” he says softly, still looking upwards. “Everyone’s afraid of rejection, but for me… I can’t— I can’t… handle it.”
“It’s stupid, to be crying over this,” he sniffles, eyes watering but no tears falling as he attempts to hold them back. “It’s stupid, but it just— it just hurts, you know? It fuckin’ hurts. All the people I admire, and the people I have admired in my life…”
Jimin blinks, a single tear slipping down over his cheekbone of its own accord. He lets it go, not bothering to wipe it. You’re caught frozen in your spot, watching with wide eyes as he reveals the most hidden part of himself and entrusts it to you. From just your usual interactions, you’d never have garnered that this side of him even exists.  He takes a deep breath, a shaky breath. “It doesn’t matter who they are, what they are to me, it never seems to change. Either they don’t want me from the beginning, or they— they find something more important to them than me and they leave.”
“A-and I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help but think,” he chokes a little, voice growing thicker and wobbling dangerously. He blinks rapidly, fresh tears burning his eyes. His voice cracks on the last of his words. “I can’t help but think, w-what if that’s what is meant for me? W-what if there’s no one who will stay?... What if no one will want me, y/n?”
His words are a boot crushing your heart beneath its sole, and you swear even with all you’ve been through in the past month or so you have never felt as gutted before as you feel now for him. The last question to leave his mouth seems to bring the rest of his feelings to the surface, his eyes closing as a soft sob slips from his lips once more. He brings his hands to his face again, elbows resting on the top of his knees, and you’re so busy trying to squash down your own tears for him that for a moment, you can only sit there and listen to him. You feel a bit lost. 
What could you ever possibly do to even begin healing a wound that seems to run that deep?
You know, realistically, there isn’t anything you can do, and it’s not your place nor wound to heal. But still, you know there is something you can do to ease it a little in this moment, you just need to figure it out. It’s at that thought that suddenly, you receive a stroke of genius, an idea that honestly is a little embarrassing but definitely better than nothing coming to mind. 
Already feeling somewhat humiliated in advance, you reach for your bag and open it enough to stick your hand in and rifle through it for the familiarly shaped object. Jimin has shown you one of the most vulnerable parts of him, so you can live with the embarrassment this once. Your hand finally locates what it’s looking for, pulling out the beaten-up A5 spiral notebook that has lived in your backpack for the past two years. Jimin either doesn’t hear you or doesn’t care enough at the moment to pay attention to whatever the shuffling sound is, which you’re kind of thankful for because you need a minute or two to actually follow through with your idea.
You slip your hand back into your bag as you open the notebook with the other, performing a lucky-dip of sorts into the risky depths of your bag one more in search of a pen. You find one and pull it out without discrimination— god, alright, it’s the rainbow ink gel pen with a crystal cat on the end that you bought on a whim at the dollar store. Guess that’s the hill you’re dying on this afternoon.
Peeking to the side to make sure Jimin isn’t watching— he’s still crying into his hands, something you probably shouldn’t be slightly relieved about in the moment— you try and flick through the book as quietly as possible, eyes scanning the messy scribbles on each page.
This, is your little rough idea scrapbook. The only thing that’s in a state anywhere near as chaotic and messy as this is your phone notes, and you really don’t want to think about those right now. In this old, beaten notebook that surprisingly hasn’t run out of pages yet, is where you usually scribble your ideas for writings, or poems. You’re looking for one of the latter currently, a rough draft that came to you in a fever dream and you copied onto paper in a haze, before never touching again. It’s incomplete, but you’re finally about to give it the ending it deserves. 
Finally, you catch sight of it on one of the pages to the back, the words “softer than the embrace of the moon” jumping out at you. Ah, this is it. The rough draft of Moonlight Sonata, the poem that ended up turning your life on it’s head and leaving you for dead in the dust from the upheaval.
Making sure Jimin is still not focusing on you, you uncap the stupid, glittery pen and hastily put it to paper, throwing down whatever enters your head that makes sense and feels right. You don’t think you’ve ever written anything this fast that wasn’t a heap of absolute trash, but perhaps it’s the emotional potency of the moment that has you scrawling lines across paper with ease. 
You only take a few minutes, and after which you somehow simultaneously feel the cathartic effects of creating a poem and the embarrassment of the fact someone else is about to see it. Well, it’s not Moonlight Sonata in any way, but this little abridged creation… it’s not too bad.
Quietly as you can so you don’t prematurely disturb his weeping, you tear the page from the book and make sure there’s nothing on the back and the old title is scribbled out before you fold it in half, turning to Jimin at last.
Gently, you reach and brush some of the dyed strands from his forehead, successfully catching his attention. Jimin peels his hands from his face, eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot but containing a curious glint as they turn to you.
You opt not to say anything just yet, pulling one hand towards you and placing the folded piece of paper onto his palm. Confused, he stares at it for a moment before bringing it back towards him and tentatively unfolding it. You wait until he begins to scan the page before you speak. 
“Just because you weren’t the subject of that poem, doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of being the subject of any.”
His head whips to you as your soft words catch in his ears, eyes wide and glistening slightly, full lips parted and mouth slightly ajar. You can feel your face beginning to burn, but you ignore it for the sake of Jimin. You’ve come this far, you need to say it and he needs to hear it. 
“There are many things about you to fall in love with, Jimin, and even if the author didn’t, I know someone will,” your voice shakes slightly as you speak, a small smile touching your lips. Something pops into your mind before you can call it quits, and you feel the rest of your face light on fire in anticipation. Right. Just do it, pussy. It was embarrassing when done to you, and it’s embarrassing to be the one doing it, too.
This is so humiliating, but you’ll do it… for him. Fuck this whole friendship thing, man.
Taking another deep breath, you reach for the hand closest to you and take it into your grasp, pulling it closer. “And I know it hurts, right now, a lot… and it might hurt for a while, and that’s okay.” You swallow your embarrassment and bring his palm to your lips, placing a soft kiss there, before moving his hand back and placing it over his heart. “But my mother always said kisses take the pain away, so I hope this can ease it, even a little.”
In the moments following your little spiel, it’s silent, and Jimin stares at you in a mixture of shock, appreciation, and something else you’re not quite emotionally equipped to decipher. The stillness breaks in the next second when his eyes water once more and he lets out a long whine that sounds suspiciously like your name, and to save face you let out a loud groan as you reach and pull him into a hug again, rolling your eyes playfully. 
“Hopeless,” you say, shuffling you both so you’re facing the sunset and watching the last of it slip past the horizon. “If you keep crying, how are we going to explain your face after? I know I told you everyone is a little ugly when they cry but you’re really— ow!”
Jimin chokes a sobbed laugh into your shoulder, retracing his fingers from where they jabbed your ribs. You glance from the corner of your eye and can’t help the smile that rises when you see he’s clutching the scribbled poem you finished for him to his chest.
“Shut up and let me commit the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me to memory and watch the sunset before I push you over the railing,” he grumbles, smile evident in his voice. You roll your eyes again, face still warm from your embarrassment. You relax into each other, soaking up the last of the sun’s warmth while it’s there.
Backtalk, after you willingly humiliated yourself to make him feel better? Fuck this friendship thing, bro. Gremlins have rights, too.
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hello! i love your lydia x reader fics. i have a request, how about, if possible, one where perhaps the reader has anger issues and lydia is always calming them down, there could be a cute fluffy part where the reader punches a wall and breaks his or hers hand and tries to hide it from lydia. keep up the good work my friend!
broken pinky
i’m sorry, but i can’t stop laughing at the juxtaposition of ‘cute’ and ‘fluffy’ with ‘punching a wall and breaking their fist’ but regardless, i’m not sure i fulfilled exactly what you wanted, but i hope you like it anyway :)
this fic takes place now-ish (and if you’re reading this in the future, i wrote this when everyone was in self isolation bc of covid) so, yeah :) also i hc barbara used to be a nurse, partially bc of convenience for the story
1273 words
cw: femreader. brief reference to domestic abuse. food. i have no knowledge of how healing broken bones works, just pretend that what i wrote would actually work.
when it first became clear to everyone that this virus was serious, and that everyone needed to go into self isolation, you were really worried. it seemed to happen in less than a day, and you panicked. your parents were halfway across the country doing some work thing, and they were stuck there. 
but there were upsides to not being able to leave the house. for example, you were not in your house. while your parents where away, the deetz-maitland family agreed to letting you stay with them. now, you could not leave your girlfriend’s house. it was incredible.
you were dying your hair purple when you got a text from one of your best friends. “y/n! quarantine party at my house tomorrow, the whole lunch group is invited! are you coming?”
what. the. fuck. 
””quarantine party” does he fucking realize what he’s saying?” you muttered to yourself.
lydia looked up from her game, “what’s wrong?” she asked.
”fucking nick doesn’t understand what a fucking self isolation means. spoiler alert: you can’t invite people over for it to be effective!” you started to rant.
lydia picked up your phone and looked at the text. “you should try telling him that. so no one does go to his house.” she said calmly.
-why wasn’t she more angry about this? “but it’s fucking nick, and he doesn’t give two shits about anyone! any time i try to tell him why something that he’s doing is wrong, he pretends that i’m the bad guy for bringing it up, then laughs at me!”
”sorry to break it to you, but your friends suck.”
”i know.” you sighed. “but seriously, does he not realize the harm he’s putting people in? like, nancy! nancy’s fucking immunosurpressed!”
”nancy?” lydia asked.
”nancy is sarah’s younger sister. and sarah is invited to this “quarantine party.”” you scoffed.
”even if you don’t think he’ll listen, you should tell him this. and tell the other people who are invited, they’re more sensible than nick, right?”
”you’re right.” you quickly typed out a message to nick, telling him how stupid he is. you then went over to the group chat, that was very inactive, to tell everyone to stay home.
you received a new text from nick. you threw your phone at lydia. “look at that bullshit.”
”why does it matter it’s not like it’s going to effect any of us it only effects old people and it’s like just as bad as the flu lol why shouldn’t we celebrate the boomer remover.” lydia read his text aloud. “jeez, that’s so horrible.”
”it’s like he thinks that lives other than his own don’t matter! it doesn’t just effect old people, and even if it did old people are people too! and the people who get the virus won’t be able to get the treatment they need because the hospitals will be overwhelmed thanks to people like him who think that a fucking pandemic doesn’t fucking apply to him!” the more you talked the more angry you got. “i know that i’ve joked about nick not caring about anyone besides himself in the past, but i truly believe that now! he’s just so insensitive!” you had so much pent up energy. the past few weeks, you had just been sitting around the house, and it’s like your body had reached a breaking point. you needed to expel some of that energy or you yourself were going to explode.
”y/n, i need you to take some breaths-” lydia rushed over to your side, to try to calm you down, but that only made things worse. she came inside your personal bubble, and that was just too much.
you turned away from her, to the wall, and punched it.
shit.
your hand had gone right through the wall. you had nearly reached the other side.
”lydia, oh my god, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.” you backed into her.
lydia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “i am going to go ask adam if there is anything they can do about this. you will stay in the middle of the room, and not touch anything.” she left you in the room by yourself.
it was only then that a wave of pain emanating from your hand washed over you. you lifted it up, to examine it. but every slight movement you made was another spike of pain. 
you decided to stop moving it.
luckily, adam had exactly what they needed to fix the hole. adam and lydia worked together, while you hid in the bathroom. partly because you didn’t want to face your problems, partly because you needed to wash the dye out of your hair.
that evening, at the family dinner that charles and delia insisted on having every night, with hair a fabulous shade of twilight purple, you awkwardly ate in silence. 
only the adults were talking, and you could tell they were dancing around the subject of the fact that their daughter’s girlfriend destroyed their daughter’s bedroom wall because she got angry, and it probably wasn’t the best idea for us to let her stay with us because what if she turns this violence on our daughter we don’t want this to happen we should probably kick her out of this house but oops no one can leave! or at least, that’s what you assumed they were all thinking of.
and to make matters worse, you felt an absurd amount of pain whenever you tried to use your dominant hand, so here you were, struggling to eat lasagna with your other hand.
after dinner, it’s lydia and delia’s turn to do the dishes. charles pulls you aside into the living room. “i saw you struggling to eat your dinner, and with what happened earlier today… is your hand okay?”
you panicked. you didn’t want to have to go to the hospital, so you lied. “nope! i was just, uh, practicing to become ambidextrous! i’ve heard that it’s a really useful skill to have, and, uh, i want to have something to work on while we’re all stuck here.”
you started walking away. “come back here.” said charles. “i’m not buying that for one second. let me see your hand.”
you winced as he turned your hand over. charles looked at you, as if to say “i told you so.”
barbara, do you mind coming in here for a moment?” he called to the kitchen, where barbara had been helping lydia and delia.
”yeah, sure. what do you need?” she asked.
”y/n here has done something to her hand. can you look at it for me?”
she looked at you, then at your hand, still resting in charles’. it hurt less that way, so you hadn’t moved it. “oh, honey…” she muttered, and she lead you to the couch, where she could sit down.
charles turned on a lamp behind her.
lydia came walking into the living room. “what’s going on?”
”it would appear that y/n has broken her hand.” barbara sighed. “i think i’ll be able to fix it, but it’s going to be rough.”
”wait, what are you going to do?” you asked.
barbara lightly touched your pinky where it met your palm. you recoiled in pain. “i think it’s just your pinky that’s broken, so i’ll make a splint, and we’ve got some pain medicine in the medicine cabinet that you can use. but you should seriously not use your hand.” she turned to lydia. “and that means no hand holding.”
lydia hugged you, on the other side of your screwed up hand. “thank you so much, barbara.”
@meangirlsx @meangirlmurphy @eliza-is-confused @boredomimi @book--butterfly
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chimilkie · 5 years
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bts reacts; you fall asleep on facetime
au:// requested by @bitesizedwizard , sorry it took so long i was on a temporary hiatus when you requested <3
kim seokjin
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you both had a rather busy past few weeks and communication was at an all time low. jin and the boys had just started their north american tour and your boss had been keeping you after hours at work to finish a business portfolio for the new ads the company was about to release. today was a rather stressful day for you, as your boss was even more up your ass to get all the ideas and projects recorded.
jin had finished off dinner with the boys and successfully recorded a rather long and enjoyable vlive with jungkook and jimin, but he couldn’t help the overwhelming need to a least have a short conversation with you. so as soon as he was locked into the safety of his hotel room, he pulled out his phone to facetime you, whilst completely forgetting about the time difference between LA and seoul.
you answered the phone on the brink of sleep and completely folded into all the blankets on your bed. “hi baby, i just finished watching your vlive.” you smiled, yawning immediately after the words left your lips.
“oh sorry jagi, i forgot about the time zone. you must be so tired.” he apologized quickly, a frown pulling at the corners of his lips.
“no, no.” you dismissed, rolling your eyes at his concern. “it’s worth it to get to talk to you. it’s been awhile. tell me about what’s been going on.” he went on about how everything’s been going, only hesitating to continue when he heard your soft snores.
 in the end, he opted to just whispering everything to you so that you wouldn’t wake up and waste sleep on him.
min yoongi
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you had been at his studio with him only an hour ago, where you two had eaten the thai food you bought together. you had ranted to him about the unfairness of treatment among individuals at your work and he told you all about the progress of the song that him and hoseok had been working on together. so really, there was no reason for him to facetime you an hour later once you were tucked into the warmth of your bed comforter.
“yes, baby?” you grunted once you hit the green accept button. you sat up slightly to lean on your elbow while you spoke to him.
he sighed lowly as he shut the door to his studio. “sorry doll, did i wake you up?”
you smiled softly and fell back once more to lean into your pillows. “nope, just laid down. why’d you call?”
“just wanted to know if i could spend the night at your apartment, i don’t want to call manager sejin to come get me and bring me to the dorms.” he mumbled, as a particular gust of wind blew the hair out of his eyes once he stepped out of the management building.
“of course, you know that the door’s always unlocked for you.” you mumbled quietly as sleep started to take over for you. actually, the door was currently unlocked for anyone considered you were too tired to actually lock it when you came inside. when he heard your light snores coming through the microphone, he rolled his eyes with a small smile on his face.
“i’ll be there soon then, jagi.” he mumbled, but still kept you on the line anyway because, why not?
jung hoseok
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does this even really count?
so here’s the thing, you wanted to play overwatch with jungkook and jimin but he wanted to watch the new ninja turtles movie with the rest of the boys. so what do you both do to be able to still spend time with eachother? you guys facetimed eachother, even if you both were only a few rooms apart. and even though you weren’t talking to each-other, as to not break jungkook’s concentration or disturb the movie, it was enough to know that if anything needed to be said you guys were on the phone already. 
no offence towards kookie, he was a great overwatch player, very skilled if you do say so yourself. but you were quite bored with the outcome of your decision to stay with jimin and jungkook instead of watching the movie with your boyfriend.
you turned to look at your phone screen, hoping to see the boys cleaning up the living room so that you could just call your boyfriend into his bedroom and cuddle for the rest of the night. unfortunately, it didn’t seem like the movie was even halfway over and you let out a quiet breath of air before standing from the floor to flop on jungkook’s bed.
the movie was over quite quickly in hoseok’s opinion so when he turned to his phone and saw the facetime had been over for about 40 minutes now, he couldn’t help but frown. but he immediately understood why when he entered the maknae’s room and saw you fast asleep, with your dead phone next to you. “how long has she been asleep?” he turned to his dongsaengs.
jungkook shrugged but turned to smile at him. “she talks a lot in her sleep though.”
kim namjoon
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you were stuck in traffic on the way to your hotel. you had decided that it would be nice to travel to canada for a week or so, and you had just gotten out of all the traffic around the airport. it was a rather long uber drive to the hotel you were staying at, so you facetimed your boyfriend figuring there was nothing else you could do. “hey jagiya, how was the flight?” he asked almost immediately after he picked up the phone.
you giggled softly and smiled out the window as you admired the scenery. “pretty good, nothing major worth telling. how was practice today? jimin was telling me yesterday that you guys were beginning to learn a new choreography?”
“yeah! about that, jin completely tripped and laid himself out on the floor.” namjoon let out a rather loud laugh that you grinned uncontrollably at. “man, it was really funny, you should have been there.” you chuckled and shook your head at their antics, before glancing up at the gps.
“joonie, i have 45 minutes left of this ride. you wanna like, i don’t know, rap for me or something?” your voice came out gentle, already on the brink of sleep yet you didn’t want to tell him that. when his voice began flowing through the speaker, you leaned your head against the window and closed your eyes. when he heard your soft snores, he stopped and raised his voice a little to talk to the driver.
“excuse me, uber driver?” he spoke in clear english.
“yes, sir on the phone?” a woman’s voice called back jokingly.
“make sure she gets there safely, alright?” he grinned just thinking about you.
“of course, sir. it’s my job, after all.”
park jimin
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please ignore the fact that saipan and korea are only an hour apart oops
the boys were filming in saipan and he called you to show you how pretty the beach was there, forgetting that with the time zones you were most likely already asleep. when you answered with a groggy hello and were rubbing your eyes in front of the camera and frowned and felt regret fill his stomach. “i’m sorry babe, did i wake you up? i just wanted to show you the beach we’re filming at right now, but if you want to go back to sleep i can just take some pictures and send them to you later.”
“um, no! you know how much i love the beach, show me jagi!” you grinned, sitting up on your elbow to see more clearly. he grinned happily into the camera before turning it around to show you the crystal blue water and clean sand lining the beach. “oh my god! it’s so beautiful there, i wish i could’ve gone with you guys.”
“it’s not as beautiful as you, my love.” he grinned cheekily once he turned the camera back around to face him. “do you want me to stay on until you fall asleep again?”
“please do.” you yawned covered your mouth with the back of your hand. “i’ll put the phone next to my pillow so it’s like your here with me.” he laughed wholeheartedly into the microphone and leaned up against one of the chairs namjoon had set up for them. 
and he did stay on with you until you fell asleep and he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but maybe he stayed on after you fell asleep too just to hear your slow breathing and pretend he was there with you.
kim taehyung
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he and the boys were on the plane ride back to korea after finishing all their uk tour stops. the plane ride honestly felt like it had been going on forever now but they had only been off the ground for not even 15 minutes. “hyung are we there yet?” he whined shoving himself into namjoon’s side to pout up at him. he had done this multiple times already and each time he repeated the action his hyung became more and more agitated.
“would you just call y/n and leave me alone before i punch you in the neck?” joon hissed, shoving taehyung’s body away from his own.
taehyung pouted once more and shuffled farther away from him to tuck his knees to his chest and pull out his phone. “jeez hyungie, no need to be so sour.” he quickly dialed your number and patiently waited for the facetime to connect. after a few rings you picked up and smiled into the camera. “y/n! thank goodness you picked up! namjoon-hyung is getting pretty salty and i can’t seem to figure out why.”
“maybe it’s because you shoved your porky little body into my six times and we haven’t even been flying for 20 minutes you inconsiderate, uncultured swine-” before namjoon could continue his rant for any longer, seokjin cut in with an apologetic smile towards their manager who was asleep next to him. “alright joonie, i think that’s enough for right now.”
“wow so you really managed to piss him off, huh? you must get pretty annoying.” you chuckled softly, rolling up in a fluffy blanket on your couch.
“damn right he does.” namjoon muttered behind taehyung causing the younger to gasp dramatically. “why don’t you just sing me to sleep baby? at least your voice isn’t annoying.” you joked, only calming down when his voice finally echoed through the speaker on your phone.
jeon jungkook
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the boys were in the company van on the way back to the dorms from an award show. jimin was extremely happy as he had won an award specifically because of a traditional dance he had done, and that had automatically put all the other boys in a wicked good mood. kook knew you were at the dorms waiting for him so he pulled out his phone to facetime you. “are you calling y/n?” hoseok shouted out happily from the first row of seats. he nodded and pressed on your contact button before sitting back to wait for your answer.
the facetime made a noise and almost immediately your excited face popped up on his phone screen. he grinned happily, flashing his bunny teeth before opening his eyes to speak. “hey jagi-”
“CONGRATULATIONS JIMIN!” you screamed over him happily. “i always knew you were the most talented one!” as jimin grinned proudly with his eyes almost disappearing, sounds of complaints from all the other boys echoed through the car. jungkook shook his head jokingly with a roll of his eyes before speaking up once more.
“are you already in bed jagiya?” he smiled seeing the blanket wrapped almost completely around your face. you nodded happily before covering your mouth with the back of your hand as a yawn escaped your mouth. “go to sleep baby, me and the boys will be there soon.”
you nodded once more before smiling softly at him. “i love you kookie.”
and ignoring the huge grins from all his hyungs around him, he smiled back at you with just as much love. “i love you so much more than you’ll ever know.”
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moonlit-imagines · 5 years
Text
Breakup Support
older!Max Mayfield x male!reader
warnings:
a/n: tysm and i love this idea! hope i do it justice
prompt: anonymous: “Can I get a M!Reader x Max Mayfield fic? As a pansexual guy, anything with M!Reader that isn’t gay is hard to come by. My idea was for reader and Max to be very close friends (like he was the first one to meet her) and he’s had a crush on her from the beginning. After she breaks up with Lucas for the 1000th time, m!reader decides to take her out on some we deserved friend time. Fluff in ensues and you can take it anywhere after that (love your stuff btw!)”
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You had first met Max at Hawkins Middle on her first day. You thought she was the coolest girl ever. She was a redheaded skater girl from California. How did she end up in Hawkins? She and you became fast friends, but you had to warm her up to the party a little. You tried to hide the constant drooling over her that everyone else noticed. You were content with your friendship, you’d grown closer to her than anybody else, but you were jealous of Lucas. Why did he take her for granted?
It had been a couple action-filled years since you met Max. Whether it be supernatural or teenage angst, it was action. It was now senior year of high school, Saturday morning. You were listening to music in your room when you hesrd banging at the front door. You went to check since you were the only one home. The door opened to a pissed off Max, who stormed in immediately.
“He’s a piece of shit.” She grumbled as she headed to your kitchen and grabbed the box of cookies you hid in the back of the pantry.
“Let me guess, you dumped Lucas again?” You asked. She chewed the cookies that she had stuffed in her mouth and swallowed.
“You know me so well.” Max sighed. “I know you’ve been keeping track, which time is this?”
“It’s the thirty-seventh.” You crossed your arms. “And the last. Stop going back to him, Max, he only hurts you.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. He’s bad for me.” She groaned. “He’s all I know, though.”
“Come here,” you held your arms out and she approached, “you need to step out of your comfort zone a little.” She stuffed her head into your chest and hugged tightly. “You okay?”
“No.” She muffled a reply. “I hate everyone.”
“Even me?” You joked. She pulled back and you noticed the tears collecting in her eyes. “Hey, why don’t we do something fun? Wanna go to the arcade like old times?” Max nodded and rushed out of the house. You grabbed your car keys and opened the car door for her. Your short car ride to the arcade was filled with Max ranting about how Lucas wasn’t treating her right and she has a hard time coming to terms with that. You listened to everything she had to say, which made her feel better. Someone actually cared. Max stepped out of the car and slammed the door.
“Oops.” She sucked her teeth. You chuckled and approached the door of the arcade, opening it for your friend.
“Haven’t been here in a while, think your high scores are still there?” You asked as you followed Max to Dig Dug.
“Of course! Nobody could beat my high score, it’s near impossible.” She pointed to her name on the scoreboard. “Madmax has been undefeated for four years now.”
“All hail the Queen of Dig Dug.” You bowed to Max and she pushed your shoulder.
“Shut up.” She giggled. “Do you have any quarters?”
“Duh.” You pulled a handful of quarters from your pocket. “Go wild.”
“Hell yeah!” She inserted a quarter for Dig Dug and started playing. It had been a while since she played the game, but she was still killing it. You cheered her on while she toggled the joystick every which way. You watched her score climb higher and higher, getting awfully close to her old score.
“Holy shit, Max...” You mumbled. She was concentrating hard on the game, and the numbers just kept getting higher and higher. Then she hit the high score! You were celebrating in the backround as she kept playing.
“I did it! Yes, I did it! I beat my own four year standing high score! The next loser will have the time of their life trying to beat this one.” She played for a few more minutes, but finally lost. She entered her name onto the scoreboard and jumped into your arms.
“That was awesome, Max!” You set her down. “What next?” She grabbed your hand and led you to the direction of another game, but stopped in her tracks when you ran into the party. Lucas was standing there with a bag of quarters in hand, staring at Max.
“Hey, uh, can we talk?” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“No.” Max squeezed your hand tighter and took you outside, walking back to the car. Lucas chased you outside, but she was determined to lose him when you two got in the car.
“Let’s just go back to my house and watch a movie or listen to music or something, sound good?” You suggested. Max crossed her arms and nodded as you pulled out of the parking lot.
You arrived at your house and Max went through your VHS cabinet. You fixed all of her favorite snacks in the kitchen and brought them out to the coffee table. Popcorn, pretzels, cookies, Coca Cola, Twizzlers, and all that. She smiled at the sight of the food you prepared for her. She inserted the Terminator and threw herself next to you on the couch, taking a handful of popcorn.
“They need to make a sequel of this, I need it.” She told you.
“What would it be about?” You took a Twizzler in your mouth.
“It’d be set a couple years in the future, with her son and stuff.” She explained. You wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
“I’d definitely watch it.” You took a sip of your Coke and she leaned into you some. Max reached for your hand and held it while you used your thumb to circle her own hand. The phone started ringing and you went to answer it.
“Hello?” You answered.
“Y/N, it’s Lucas, is Max there?” He asked you frantically.
“No.” You slammed the phone onto the wall and returned to your seat on the couch. Max placed her hear on your lap and you stroked her arm.
“Was that Lucas?” She asked.
“Yeah.” You replied.
“What’d he say?” Max turned to face you.
“He just asked if you were here.” You brushed the hair from out of her face. “Don’t worry about him, you and him are officially over, right?”
“Right,” Max moved herself to sit upwards, “I can’t depend on him forever.” She grabbed a cookie. “Thank you, y/n. For helping me with the whole situation, and making me feel better.”
“That’s what friends are for, ‘Darling.’” You smiled. She jokingly swatted you at the nickname and took your hand once more. Max laid on your lap once more and you ran your fingers through her hair. She felt lucky to have a friend like you, and you were hoping that soon she’d call you more than just a friend.
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Note
Hello there! 😀 Can I request a Steve Rogers one-shot, where he wants to propose to Stark!Daughter!Reader? They've been together since the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., and after Endgame, Steve realizes that he can't wait any longer (after the wedding, the R gets pregnant with twin girls). Steve is so in love with R that he completely moves on from Peggy and even replaces her photo with R's in his compass. Also: R is a super-soldier and an enhanced + with a genius intellect.
Hello!!  I figured I’d post it here as well without tags!  A big part of my account is my writing anyway, and I was the dummy that forgot to post about requests on my writing account, oops!  Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and thanks for sending in a request! <3
Words: 2224
Bucky Barnes had not seen his best friend this happy since Peggy Carter.  In fact, he seemed happier than ever.  Bucky was surprised by this, especially since it had only been a year since the final battle that destroyed the Avengers Compound.  With the death of Tony Stark, Steve was left to cope with the idea of a world without Tony as well as helping his girlfriend, Y/N Stark, recover.  Y/N was Tony’s daughter and Morgan’s half-sister.  Although Y/N did not know Tony all her life, she was still closely tied with the playboy and loved him.
She was involved in the final battle along with everyone else due to her powers.  Being a super-soldier like Steve and an enhanced like Wanda, she was a powerful asset to the Avengers.  She helped Clint distract Thanos when the Mad Titan nearly grabbed the gauntlet.  If it wasn’t for her, the world may have been destroyed.  Either way, she knew she had to prepare for the worst.  She knew Tony would die for this cause as soon as he figured out how time travel worked, but she couldn’t prepare herself for when it happened.  
That’s where Steve came in.  Steve, her boyfriend of several years, comforted and helped her through it all along with Pepper and Morgan.  He knew exactly what to do considering the two stayed in touch after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D, and quickly started dating.  They were the other’s support for five years after the snap occurred.  Steve thought that he could never love someone as much as he loved Peggy, but he learned with Y/N that he was completely wrong.  She was everything to him.  She helped him see that there’s always hope, that the world is still the same as it was 75 years ago, and that maybe someone can have more than one true love.
Shortly after the funeral, Steve had thrown the compass with Peggy’s picture into a box and up in the closet of his shared bedroom with Y/N.  It was a box filled with items either from the 1940s or objects that reminded him of it.  Amongst other things, a pack of Captain America trading cards was inside.  Steve decided that he didn’t want to hold onto the past or what it could’ve been any longer, so he tucked it away.  It was time to face the future.  A future with his best friends and loved ones, and more importantly, with  Y/N.  
When a year had passed and everything seemed to be going back to normal, Steve knew that he wanted to propose to Y/N.  He was only mad at himself for not doing it sooner.  He wanted to be able to ask for Tony’s permission.  He may have adjusted to the 21st century, but he still wanted to keep some of his old-fashioned traditions.  Y/N agreed with him on that tradition, believing that it was sweet that he’d want to do that anyway.  
With the help of the Avengers, Steve was able to plan a proposal.  The perfect proposal.  It may have been simplistic, it may have been considered cheap, but he knew it wouldn’t matter to Y/N as long as he asked the question. It took only a few days to set up, and Pepper chipped in a little as well.  She even went as far as pulling Steve aside to tell him that Tony would’ve said yes.  
Y/N and Steve were going on a date that night of the proposal.  It was going to be a fancy dinner and catching the latest movie in the theater.  Y/N loved the idea and agreed to it immediately.  She was excited considering it had been so long since the two of them had had a date.  With missions going on by the newly formed S.H.I.E.L.D, it seemed impossible for the couple to catch a break.  She was grateful for the small moments the two had before catching a plane to somewhere far away.  
Tonight it’d be so much different.  Steve and Y/N caught up, explaining some of the funny moments that happened in their missions.  Steve told her the story of Sam’s wings malfunctioning while he was trying to fly up to a vantage point while Bucky made fun of him.  Y/N told him about the story of Stephen going off on a rant about how the mystic arts should be taken seriously while Peter was playing with his cape.  When the stories ran out, the two super-soldiers admitted to missing each other so much for the past few weeks.  It wasn’t unusual for them to do so, which is why Bucky and Peter stayed far away when they were together.  They lost track of time and didn’t realize how late it was getting until dessert came around, where the couple shared a chocolate lava cake that was on the house.
The next part of the evening involved a movie.  It wasn’t your typical movie night, however, as Steve was able to find an old drive-in theater nearby.  They were playing a classic horror film night, which they called a “creature double feature.”  Y/N was excited to watch as she found a love for drive-ins when they saw it on a travel brochure once, and Steve was pleased that he could find something that played movies close to his time.  
What they weren’t expecting was for a pop-up thunderstorm to boom in during the end of the second movie.  The thunderstorm disrupted the entire theater and caused them to shut down shortly after it started.  The cracks of thunder and the bolts were striking the ground nearby. It didn’t take long for the power to go out because of it.  
This wasn’t on Steve’s itinerary at all.  He was supposed to take Y/N home and show her the dimly-lit room, scattering pictures and memories across the sitting room whose furniture had been moved out of the way.  Towards the end of the line of pictures, there would be a single frame holding the picture of you two kissing on a “Good-Luck Bridge” as the national park called it, with a single note that asked her to marry him.  While she was distracted, he’d get down on one knee and hold the ring behind her.
Things don’t always end up the way they were supposed to.  Honestly, Steve was more than frustrated by it. He had the entire evening planned out and it still failed.  He couldn’t wait any longer to become engaged to his girlfriend.  
When he opened the door to the apartment, he was ready to explain everything.  The two were using their flashlights on their phones to make sure they didn’t trip over anything.  It didn’t look like it’d work out for him tonight.  He was hoping maybe explaining things would still end up with an engagement tonight, but then he received a text from Pepper, who was apparently watching the hallway camera.
The single text read:
“Don’t worry about anything, Steve.  There’s a transmitter that Peter and I made in case anything went wrong.  Take care of her for Tony.”  
Inside the room, several candles were lined up across the shelves on the wall.  They were lit, casting enough light in the room to be able to see some of the pictures here and there.  Right in the center laid a small plate-like computer.  "What’s this all about?“  Y/N asked Steve, knowing something was up.
"Just turn it on,” He smiled at her, allowing her to walk up to it and click on the button.  It started up a hologram on the wall, casting the pictures on the plaster instead of being in the frames.  
From pictures to working in S.H.I.E.L.D to pictures from their first date to the very present, there had to be dozens of photos lined up in the presentation.  Y/N smiled at the display, tears springing to her eyes as memories started to replay in her mind.  The final picture had the question written below the bridge, on top of the water.  The girl gasped and turned around to see Steve on his knee.  
He couldn’t even ask the question himself before he was kissed.  
~
The wedding quickly happened after that.  News spread around like wildfire that the two were engaged, and everyone could see it coming anyway.  It became known to the world that Captain America was finally marrying someone.  Fury couldn’t believe it when he heard it, but he was happy for the two despite showing it.  Everyone was invited to the wedding from the Starks to the Avengers.  Some from S.H.I.E.L.D came along as well.  Bucky was Steve’s best man while Pepper walked Y/N down the aisle.  Morgan was the flower girl while Peter had to be the ring bearer.  
The wedding would be considered the wedding of the century for more than a few reasons.  One of the biggest reasons being how simplistically extravagant it was.  Decorated with purple flowers and ribbons, the wedding gave beautiful a new definition.  Especially because of the love shared between the bride and groom.  
It was clear to all that those two shared a love that people dreamt of finding in their lives.  They were only lucky enough to find it.  Steve couldn’t even imagine picturing Peggy in Y/N’s place.  The only thing that mattered was Y/N.  
When they approached their first anniversary as a married couple, Y/N knew she had the best gift to tell him.  They were trying to start a family for so long, but now was the time to reveal the perfect news.  
Right as Steve came home from a tough mission over in Budapest, Y/N finished preparing everything.  She had the papers from a doctor to confirm it because she was worried that the at-home pregnancy tests were wrong.  Steve would be pleasantly surprised by it.  
He wasn’t pleasantly surprised by it actually.  He was elated, excited, and could barely keep his cool for more than a minute.  All Steve wanted to do was hug his currently pregnant wife and tell the world that they would be parents.  
A few short months later they found out that they were going to have children.  Not just a child, but children.  The doctor told them that Y/N was pregnant with twin girls.  They nearly cried that day from happiness.  The next day, due to her hormones, Y/N cried from fear.  
She realized that she had no idea what it’d be like to be a parent, even if Pepper assured her that she’d be able to help.  Y/N’s big problem though was that she and Steve were moving that day.  They decided that the apartment would be too small for their family.  They were able to find an affordable home in upstate New York, and quickly took the advantage and bought it.   Moving day was rough because Y/N was starting to have some trouble picking up boxes off the ground.  Her bump was becoming more noticeable and she’d start to have problems with leaning down.  Steve didn’t mind at all and had a few of their friends come over to help them out.  Y/N made sure to thank them all later that day.  
While moving, Steve and Y/N were cleaning out the closet a little bit.  Besides the clothes, they kept a few boxes in there, and one of those boxes included Steve’s box of the 1940s.  Y/N didn’t know what exactly was in there, but she left it to Steve to go through and decide if he wanted to keep it.  She trusted him and didn’t feel the need to go through it, which is why she walked back in to see him pick up his compass with Peggy’s picture at one point.  
Steve looked at it for only a single moment, but Y/N was intrigued about what he’d do.  Some days the woman wondered whether or not he still loved Peggy despite it being years ago.  Those thoughts would disappear completely today.  
Steve opened the glass door that kept Peggy’s picture inside.  Pulling it out, he stared at her picture before placing it aside in a bin that was being used for trash.  Then, he pulled a small picture of Y/N out of his pocket.  It was one of his favorites.  She looked beautiful in the photo, especially with one of her favorite outfits on.  
He placed the picture in carefully, shutting the glass door and locking it into place.  He was proud of it after that.  The compass kept him grounded, reminding him of the time period he once lived in.  The picture reminded him of what he has now, and the compass connected with her by always showing him that he can find his way to her no matter what.  
Y/N walked over to him with a smile on her face.  "Steve, are you sure you want to get rid of the picture?“  She asked him, wanting to make sure he wasn’t making a mistake.  
Steve looked up at her and smiled slightly.  "I’m positive.  There’s no need for it anymore.”  
Steve stood up to turn and look at Y/N, shutting the compass in the process.  He snaked his arms around his wife’s waist, bringing her closer to him.  She smiled back at him and glanced at his lips.  
“I love you, Steve Rogers,” She said as she gave him a peck on the lips.  
“I love you too, Y/N Rogers.”
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