#keep in mind i was like 12 and too young to drink

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.7 to lose someone you love

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 7/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 8.5k

a/n. sighhh i'm rly sorry for the wait. and thank you sooo much to the love for the last chapter omg :') this chapter is gojo pov and it's a bit different than the rest, but i still hope you enjoy and that it was worth the wait. if there are typos, they're not typos they're actually 100% intentional and you are the silly one

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 (pending)

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

When Gojo was just four years old, he called for the paramedics for the very first time. 

He had wandered around the house, wide and innocent blue eyes searching the room for the landline in the dim light of the evening, his lip quivering in a pout. His small arm reached up to pet around at the top of his parents’ dresser before his fingers wrapped around the phone. He couldn’t remember what the number was at first, the one his mother always told him to call in case of an emergency, but he remembered he scribbled it down somewhere with red crayon in one of his coloring books. By the time Gojo first realized he needed to call for help, located the landline, looked through all of his little portraits of dinosaurs and spaceships sprawled across the carpet of his room, found those three numbers, and then finally dialed them, his father had already been seizing and shaking on the bathroom floor for longer than twenty-four minutes.  

He was just a child. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know any better.

Gojo spent the remainder of that night hugging his mom in the hospital’s emergency room, his tears soaking through her shirt as she gently rocked him back and forth in her lap while whispering soothing words in his ear. His father lay motionless on the hospital bed before them, eyes shut, and Gojo will never forget the haunting sounds of the machinery that was keeping his father alive. It was a sudden onset seizure, likely stemming from the traumatic brain injury his father had suffered a few years ago, and the prolonged convulsions he experienced on the bathroom floor that night had resulted in severe brain damage. Gojo could still hear the echo of his mother’s silent cry when the doctors informed them that it’s unlikely his father would ever fully recover from this.

No reasonable adult would ever look a four-year-old in the eyes and say if you had called for help sooner or knew what to do, maybe your father would’ve still had the chance to live a long life. Yet, even at his young age, Gojo was aware of the energy in the room, and that explanation was the only truth his mind could grasp onto to make sense of what he had just witnessed.

After two weeks of clinging to life, his father miraculously woke up from his coma and persevered for the sake of his wife and son. Shortly after the incident, he began to have recurring seizures but fought through them each time. Without fail, he made Gojo breakfast in the mornings, even if it meant having to clean up the spilt orange juice on the counter every now and then because of how his hands could not stop trembling. He always walked Gojo to the bus stop, waving him goodbye, despite how troublesome and embarrassing he found it to use his cane. The love he had for his son was so palpable that it eclipsed the bitterness over how his life had ended up because of the blessing it had brought him.

In his prime, Gojo’s father was a renowned soccer player, so incredibly talented at the sport that he left a lasting mark on the way teams strategized, his presence on the field commanding respect, and he was one of the greatest talents the entire college division had ever seen.

He met Gojo’s mother at one of his freshman year games, a pretty lady in the stands that caught his eye from the sight of her laughter among her friends, her radiance drawing him to her from the field, and that’s how their love began. Exactly one year following that day, he stole one of his grandmother’s thrifted rings from her jewelry collection and that was what he used to propose. Gojo’s mother had accepted it with so many tears and so much snot running down her face, and he had never found her more beautiful. They married young and sweet, like most people back then.

During the thrilling semifinal match between Keio Uni, Gojo’s father’s team, and Yokohama Uni during the end of his senior year, spectators witnessed a game that most college soccer enthusiasts would deem was a once-in-a-lifetime watch. Both teams engaged in relentless offense, and Gojo’s father was on his way to shatter the record of the most goals scored in a single championship match within the history of the league, but when he received a call from his wife during a timeout with the most life-altering news he could have ever heard, he abandoned everything on the field that day to go home and be with her. Grainy footage from the televised broadcast still exists online today—the moment he sprinted across the field, confused players glancing in his direction, amidst the uproar of the crowd. She called to let him know she was pregnant. 

No one knew that would be the last game of soccer he would ever play.  

It was a freak accident, a distracted driver behind the wheel of a gray Chevy on a dark and rainy night, veered straight towards Gojo’s parents car to avoid a branch on the road. In a moment that could only be described as his instinct to protect, he quickly swerved his vehicle, taking the brunt of the impact on his side. His family surrounded him at his hospital bedside as they grappled with the news that he would be unable to play the sport ever again due to his traumatic brain injury that would lead to lifelong motor function loss. According to the doctors and police, had he not swerved to shield his wife and unborn child, the outcome would have been far more disastrous. After months of rehabilitation, he regained enough ability to walk and just enough function in his extremities to welcome his newborn son in his arms.

When Gojo was just six years old, two years after witnessing his father’s first seizure, he stumbled upon a dusty, forgotten soccer ball tucked away in the corner of the garage. When he eagerly presented it to his father, excitement gleaming in his eyes, he was only met with a scowl and the demand to discard it, to never bring such things like that to him ever again. His mother protested, ensuing in an argument, and as Gojo lowered his gaze to the ball in his hands, he noticed his father’s faded signature adorned with a heart and message of love for his mother. The ink, once vibrant, now faded with time.

It wasn’t until Gojo turned seven that his father finally relented to teach him more about the sport, knowing it was all his son wanted for his birthday. With determination in his heart, Gojo pleaded for his father’s guidance, eager to kick around a nearly deflated, weathered ball. His father watched his son, expression morphing from reserved and stoic, softening to surprise, then hopeful, and he found himself cheering on his son’s clumsy endeavors on the field despite how many times he tumbled and fell. Because that was his son, his pride and joy, reminiscent of him embracing the sport that he himself had cherished so many years ago. 

As Gojo grew older and excelled at the sport, securing victory after victory in every youth league, his father’s health steadily declined. The recurring seizures caused by the brain damage from his prolonged convulsions on that fateful night exacerbated over the years and started to take an increasing toll on his body. Yet still, he never missed even a single one of his son’s games. Whenever Gojo swiftly sent the ball flying through the net, the first person his eyes would search for on the field was his father, the joy in his eyes being all he cared about in the world. Gojo lived to make his father proud, because it was the only thing that made him feel like he could make up for what little he had done to protect his father that night.

You were just a child. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know any better.

The day following Gojo’s eleventh birthday, his father had his second major seizure, falling into another coma, but this time he never woke up. Two years later, his mother made the tough decision to end his life-support, and then he was gone from their lives. Gojo’s mother was inconsolable, and he knew that his father took a piece of her soul with him to heaven that night. The piece that allowed her to smile. 

one day, you’ll lose someone you love. and everything following will fail to have meaning. 

But why was he remembering all of that now? 

The shrill of Gojo’s alarm clock woke him up from the intrusive memories that were washing through the fore-front of his mind, and he grumbled to himself before whacking at his nightstand haphazardly to shut the thing off. He ran a hand across his face in an attempt to wipe the sleepiness away, features instantly settling into an annoyed scowl as he blinked his eyes open and the filtering sunlight through the windows harassed his vision. 

He laid there for a few seconds, mending to the pounding headache at his temples with his fingers rubbing circles, and then he finally sat up in bed. Blinking at his sheets, the images of last night start to flash through his mind. The heavy music, the dim lighting of the bathroom, the dizzying jealousy, and the taste of you on his tongue–

The memory is supposed to arouse him, and would on any normal day, but because you had left him standing there stunned with no release of his own at all, he instead just feels a pulsing, soul-deep throbbing pain at his crotch that could really only be due to the fact he was left high and dry by you last night. He groans at the sensation, palm pushing down on his lower abdomen to try and relax the torture, which barely helped. It’s either he jerks off or takes a cold shower, and given the former was likely not possible for him right now since his god-forsaken brain decided to push the traumatizing experiences of his childhood to the forefront of his headspace first thing in the morning, meaning it’s unlikely he’ll be able to settle into the memory of you bent over that bathroom counter for him, he decides on the cold shower. And it’s safe to say that today already fucking sucked.

The moment the chill water hits the skin of his body, he recollects the look you had on your face right before you walked out on him. Soft, searching, to him almost seraphic, but you also looked wounded. And something from your anger with him since before he even had you in that bathroom, to the agonizing moment you left him in there by himself, told him he’d messed up big time with you somewhere along the lines. 

He knew he had been a jerk last night. He didn’t really have much of a right to be seethingly possessive of you, but the sight of you kissing another guy had him seeing red and his knuckles turning white. He finds himself clenching his jaw at the unwelcome memory even now. He figured he probably ruined what would’ve otherwise been an enjoyable night for you, and so you decided to get revenge by walking out on him. However, he can’t shake the feeling that things are messy and complicated now, primarily because of him, and he felt like he needed to apologize for dragging you into his weird, confusing emotions.

He gets himself dry and dressed, grateful for the barely sufficient relief he had down south, and sighs as he grabs his phone and taps on your name, thinking about what to say to you, and just settles on typing out Hey, can we talk? and then presses send. He turns the ringer of his phone off, tosses the device onto his bed and then heads out the door. 

Geto was sitting on the couch in the loft, rubbing an ice cube across his forehead as he sprawled on the cushions and let out low and consistent groans to himself. Gojo flopped down on the armchair across from him and assumed a similar position, rubbing at his temples to nurse his own headache. Geto opens an eye to look at him.

“Morning,” he grumbles. 

“I take it I’m not the only one that feels like they’ve been hit by a truck?” Gojo asks.

Geto makes a disgruntled noise and throws his head back on the cushion. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. God knows how much I had last night.” He reaches over to the console table in the center for the bottle of Ibuprofen and tosses it to Gojo, who catches it and stares down at the label. “I didn’t really see you drink that much though. Don’t know why you’re hungover.”

Gojo sighs. He wasn’t hungover. His headache was from the fact that had a lot on his mind. Like the feeling of your skin last night. And then the pain of being blue-balled. And also for some reason his father’s death. Very exhausting to juggle those thoughts at once. 

Gojo twists the cap off the bottle of Ibuprofen and pops two pills, drowning them in his mouth with Geto’s glass of water, then runs a frustrated hand through his hair. The man across from him raises an eyebrow.

“You good?” he asks.

“Super peachy,” Gojo replies.

He sighs. “Well, whatever it is, just make sure it doesn’t affect your play today,” Geto warns him, sinking further down into the couch. Gojo lets out an exhale through his nose. Geto usually pushed further for answers whenever he was in a mood, so the fact that he didn’t this time meant that hangover was bad.

“I’m more worried about you. You think you’ll be fine in a few hours?” Gojo asks. Geto just waves his hand in the air in response as he grabs the hand towel on his chest and drags it up over his face, shielding himself from the light of the room.

“I have no choice but to be fine. We have to win this game,” is all he says through muffling cloth.

Gojo nods, resting his elbows on his knees and looking down at the carpet. It was finally the game of the 28th, arguably the second-most important game of the season. If they take home the win, they’re automatically seeded into top sixteen teams, which means they’ll only have to win four more matches after today to take home the championship. But if they lose, they’re seeded to the bottom, and then four turns into a daunting eight. In the history of the league, not a single team has ever lost their pre-seed game and still continued to win the playoff championship. So Geto was right, they have no choice but to win today. Otherwise, they could kiss goodbye to a 12-year UTokyo championship streak.

“Not going for your run?” Geto asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“Nah, not feeling up for it,” Gojo replies.

He clicks his tongue. “Never skip the pre-game ritual, man.”

Gojo groans, knowing that he’s right, and so he reluctantly gets up off the chair and heads back into his room. His phone lay there on the bed, facing down, and he felt so tragically taunted by it that he weighed the options of whether or not he should check if you replied back before his run or after his run. And then he’s wondering why you affect him this much in the first place.

He resolves to check after his run, and only gets one arm through his shirt before his hands betray him and he snatches his phone, eagerly tapping the screen to turn it on. 

He sees your name at the top, where you had just replied barely a minute ago. Sure, we can talk. He blinks at his phone when he sees the polite period at the end of your message, and the proper capitalization, not to mention a vocative comma? He was starting to feel really nervous.

He didn’t care that you had only replied a minute ago, he quickly typed out his response and sent it.

|| 10:35am Gojo: Do you know how to get onto the stadium field today?

He sees you typing, and he’s holding his breath.

|| 10:36am you: yes, I do. I’m going in w the newsletter journalists. Was this what you wanted to talk about?

What did he want to talk to you about exactly? Something like I’m sorry about being an ass last night, totally not cool for me to be that territorial over you, although I can’t say I wouldn’t do it again because seeing you kiss someone other than me kind of made me want to die. Also, I’m sorry for acting like you’re just someone I know, I don’t know why I did it. I guess it’s because I didn’t know if you thought of me as any more than just someone you know either, and that thought was frightening. Did I mention I hated seeing you kiss someone that wasn’t me?

He’s never really been good with words. Or feelings. 

10:37am Gojo: No, it’s not, it’s something else. I’ll come find you on the field before the game starts

He stands there, gaze fixed on his phone screen for the minute-long pause you took to respond, that for him felt like tortured eons, just for you to send-

10:39am you: k

Gojo finishes getting dressed for his run, anxiety brewing in his stomach drearily, and when he heads out the door of the house, the fresh morning air doesn’t help calm him down like it usually does. Of course, as he’s running, his thoughts wander to you. He’s thinking about the smell of your hair–or was it the perfume on your skin?–either way, it was intoxicating. The curve of your neck, that spot that made you whimper– fuck. Think of other things. Like the sound of your voice, soft and sometimes needy, but he enjoys it that way–makes his head spin. Or when you’re being sweet and thanking him for something you shouldn’t, because to him everything about you was a privilege and never a task. Even in the hot spring sun of the late morning, he finds himself missing the warmth from your body, and that look. That goddamn look in your eyes when you’re peering into his like you want him to–

“I’m sure he’s really proud of you.”

His legs stop him on their own, like they know something about the feelings in his chest that he doesn’t, and he’s standing still on the sidewalk of the neighborhood now. Short puffs of air escape his lips from his blood pumping fast through his body, and he could physically hear the sound of you in his head. Intimate enough to where he turns to the side slightly facing his surroundings, like there was no way it was just a memory and you weren’t actually near. He finds himself swallowing hard and having to consciously keep moving forward.

Gojo makes it back to the house, freshens up for the second time today, and gets dressed into his UTokyo soccer uniform with his signature #10 jersey. He leaves with Geto to campus, where all his teammates gather before eventually boarding the bus to the UTokyo stadium field ten minutes away. Coach Yaga yells their ears off in the locker rooms in an attempt to get their plays for today through their brains, and the exhilarating noises from the stands as they make their formal entrance through to the field fills Gojo’s senses, along with the obnoxiously loud music playing as pre-game rituals settle in. Gojo sets his bag down on the bench and joins the others in warm-ups for about fifteen minutes, before catching a chance to sneak away and look for you across the expansive pristine grass.

After lightly jogging around the perimeter of the field for a couple of minutes, he finally spots you, his raised eyebrows now flattening under the fringe of his hair as he relaxes. He didn’t realize he was tensing his shoulders until now. You were just beyond the sidelines near a hydration station, fidgeting with something in your camera case, lips pressed together in a frustrated expression, and he saw your body sulk with the sigh you let out as you must’ve realized you had forgotten something. The corner of his mouth twitches upwards into a slight smile, an unconscious reaction to seeing you look so damn cute from your troubled face decorated with a pout. And then he remembered he had been looking for you, and he had found you, and the only thing to do next was to be near you. 

He ambles up to you, and you only catch sight of him when he’s just a few feet away and finally standing in front of you. He sees your eyes widen slightly, lashes blinking once, twice, and then there’s a blush of color to your cheeks as you fidget with the stadium access badge hung around your neck. He noticed there were grass stains on your jeans over your knees when he looked down.

“Hey,” Gojo greets you over the loud music playing on the field.

“Hi,” he sees you say, and he realizes he can barely hear you.

“Let’s go over there,” Gojo yells, jerking his head over to the side.

He leads you over to an area tucked near the east side entrance, a corner slightly underneath one of the sectioned stands where the loud cheers of the stadium somehow reflected off less. It was about as private or silent of a place that the two of you could manage to have a conversation on a soccer field before a match, if you could just ignore the dressed up school mascots rehearsing their walk-ins and walk-outs through the entryway.

You take a few steps backwards until your back hits the concrete slab wall, and he’s in front of you as he watches you study him for a second, taking in the sight of his uniform, before your eyes finally meet his.

“Are you ready to take your photos today?” he asks you, poorly attempting to make small talk despite the images of you with him in that bathroom last night flashing through his memory. Now was seriously not the time to be turned on.

You nod, and respond “I am”, giving him absolutely nothing to work with.

He sighs. “Listen, about last night, I just wanted to apologize. For dragging you into that bathroom with me, although you did ask me to-” He sees you narrow your eyes and cross your arms across your chest. “Sorry,” he sighs, “Seriously, I just…I don’t know what got over me then.”

“You don’t know? Or you just don’t want to tell me?” you prod at him. He briefly considers pretending he doesn’t hear your question over the sound of the stadium, but he knows he wouldn't get away with that, not with the way you’re looking at him like he’s just one more fuck-up away from making you storm off.

He looks at your lips. “I guess the only thing I know is that I didn’t like seeing you kiss someone else.”

You shake your head and close your eyes. “I know you didn’t, Satoru. Otherwise last night wouldn’t have happened. What I’m asking is why.”

He’s struggling now, searching his head for answers, like he’s fighting for his life on a test that he didn’t study for. When he looks down, he notices your foot has been tapping impatiently. And when he looks back up, there’s that wounded expression from last night again. “I don’t know,” is all he can offer.

You uncross your arms from your chest, lips parting slightly as your eyebrows pinch upwards with a disheartened look. He sees your gaze shift slowly across the features of his face, searching, and he wonders if you can see something within him that he can’t. The thought terrifies him. “Fine. It’s my turn to speak.”

He nods slowly. He wasn’t sure what you wanted to say to him. He imagined you would just cuss him out with a few choice words for being a raging asshole last night and then you’d be on your merry way. But he senses sincerity in your voice. Not that he was phenomenal at reading people, though.

He watches as you clench and unclench your fists at your sides nervously, then twiddle with the strap of your camera, then tuck your hair behind your ears, then blink rapidly as you look up at him, then worry your bottom lip between your teeth, then open your mouth to speak just to close it again.

“Do you need me here for any of this?” he says in an attempt at a joke to ease you, but when all you give him is a glare, he’s fearful enough to be serious again.

“I like you.”

He blinks. “Thanks? I like you, too.”

“No, no. I like you as in I have feelings for you,” you clarify. Gojo’s eyes widen at the confession, and he stands up straighter. 

“Oh,” he finally replies when he realizes he hasn’t said anything yet, “I…I wouldn’t have guessed that.” Holy shit, if that was how you felt, then he really has been a raging asshole this entire time. 

You roll your eyes. “I know. You’re a hopelessly dense, menacingly flirty, sleazy frat dude college athlete,” you sigh, “But I still like you. Unfortunately, tragically, annoyingly, much to my dismay, against my better judgment,”

“Okay, I get it-”

“I think it started that night you stayed with me when I was stranded with my flat,” you confess suddenly, your chest rising a little bit faster, and his expression softened. “I just really appreciated you being there for me.”

His voice is gentle when he speaks next. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I would’ve been there if it happened ten times over,” he pauses, “although I’d seriously question your ability to drive if it happened that many times.”

“And I think it started when you walked me out to the practice field for the first time, and you told me you cared about my dreams,” you say with a slight step forwards to him, unable to acknowledge his words at all, as if there was a script you needed to stick to that was the only thing keeping you from falling apart in front of him. 

He finds himself instinctively leaning towards you, close enough to where he notices you’re wearing a different perfume today. “But that was before the night of your car incident,” he reminds you.

“I know,” you nod, and there’s that look in your eyes that he loves, “and I also think it started that first night we met and you looked sad when I said we weren’t friends.”

Gojo’s eyes widen, his heart skipping a beat in his chest, and he finds himself breathing shallowly as he listens to your words. “y/n…I think you’re working backwards here.”

“I’m trying to say I’ve had feelings for you this whole time,” you say to him, “they were tiny at first, I didn’t really see them, but now they’re too big for me to hold all by myself.”

Gojo nods slowly, and he already knows what you’re going to ask of him next.

“I like you in a way that makes me want more from you,” you admit, eyes steadily on his with resolve, “I don’t want to be just someone you know, or someone only for sex-”

“y/n-” he tries to interrupt you.

“And I certainly won’t be someone that sits around to wait for a guy if he doesn’t want me back,” you say, but there’s an apprehensive look in your eyes when you speak next, “so, I need you to answer to my feelings.”

Gojo blinks at you, his heart beating fast in his chest from your confession, and he feels like with every testing second that he fails to answer you back, you slip further and further away from him.

He knew he had affection for you. He always wanted to be close to you, even when he already was, as if he couldn’t get close enough. He wanted to take care of you, and see that softness in your expression when he knew you felt safe and happy. He couldn’t stand the thought of you with someone else, and it took him this damn long to realize as he stood in front of you that he had no interest in being with anyone else either. So then why did his chest feel so tight? And why was he struggling so much to give you an answer?

one day, you’ll lose someone you love. and everything following will fail to have meaning. 

Gojo’s eyes widened as the memories of his life flashed through his mind, a chill running down his spine as they knock the wind from his lungs and he feels that same sense of dread that has been following him like a ghost since that day when he was just four years old, standing in the hallway, wondering why his father was having a nightmare on the bathroom floor when he should’ve known it was something far worse than that.

Gojo blames himself for so much that had gone wrong in his life. And he should know that it’s not his fault, but all of his grief was greedy to breathe and live, desperate to find a reason for why he had to lose someone he loved, and his grief found a home in all of his guilt.

And he was terrified to lose someone close to him again. Even if he decided to see what could become with you, even if he thought for a moment that he was allowed to feel any sort of happiness with you, the thought of falling short and failing frightened him. He was so tired of adding to a long list of regrets in his life. And he knew he wasn’t what you needed— what you deserved.

“I…” he starts, swallowing the lump in his throat, “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel the same way about you.” He knows he sounds convincing enough from the way the light in your eyes dimmed, anticipation faltering and replaced with a sad expression over your features. He needs to take a shaky breath to continue speaking. “It seems I’ve led you on in a lot of ways, and I apologize for that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen anymore.”

You’re silent for a long moment, twiddling with your fingers as you look up at him. “I see…” you say, and when he sees your lower lip quiver slightly, he feels sick. His instinct is to reach out for you, pull you closer to him, but he knows that’s not a luxury you would allow for him, and he knew it wasn’t one he deserved either. 

Your voice is trembling when you speak next. “I appreciate you letting me know. And you don’t have to worry about not leading me on anymore, because this will be the last time you see me.”

His entire body runs rigid. 

“Why?” It’s a stupid question, but he asks it anyway.

“So I can get over you.”

All he can do is stand with the feeling of a chill in his bones.

“And I ask that you’ll respect my space while I do,” you add on at the end.

He’s silent for a long moment, then lets out the breath he was holding in. “I will,” he says, the promise leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

There’s a moment where you both just look at each other, as though the two of you were trying to hold onto the moment, but you’re the one to break out of it first, and he’s the one to wish it would’ve lasted a little longer.

“I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” The words already sounded like goodbye. “I’ll make sure you look nice in your photos,” you say with a small smile, holding your camera up slightly, “and good luck today.” 

He wonders if he���ll regret this moment.

“Thanks.”

He steps aside so that you can walk past him and back out to the field. Gojo takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly, and relaxes his shoulders. Well, that was intense. Definitely not the direction he thought that conversation was going to go in at all, but that’s fine. He handled it fine. Totally fine. Things were going to be totally fine. He just has to play the match now.

The first step he takes back towards the field, he feels his uneasiness return, with the second step the feeling of his heart beating becomes violent in his head, with the third step he swears he can’t feel the tips of his fingers, with the fourth he feels severely nauseous, and with his fifth- was he seriously about to throw up?

He barely makes it back onto the grassy field cutting across the obstacles of people at the sidelines, using all his strength to not double over before he reaches a table and grabs one of the water bottles. He sees a group of men, all dressed in suits and loitering near the team manager’s station, perk their heads up at the sight of him and he’s groaning internally. The last thing he wanted to do right now was talk to any damn recruiters, but he sees one of them bold enough to approach him in his periphery. He sighs, taking one last gulp of water, and tries to stand up straight and look like he wasn’t going insane.

“Hi, I’m Jousuke Tsuda, recruiter for Tokyo Metropolitan’s national league team,” he says and stretches his hand out for Gojo to shake. The man looked aged, with thick creases to his forehead that could only mean he’s witnessed a hell of a lot of life and he has the soul to prove it.

Gojo’s eyes widen at the mention of Tokyo-Met’s team, and he grabs onto the man’s hand in as firm of a handshake he could manage. “Gojo Satoru.”

The man laughs. It’s deep with a slight crackle. “I know your name, son. Every recruiter in the country does. You’ve got a lot of eyes on you right now.”

“I’m flattered.”

The man raises an eyebrow at him. “Surely you feel pressured.”

Gojo only hums to himself.

The man glances at his watch. “I know the match starts in a few, but if I could have a moment of your time. Take a walk with me?”

“Sure.”

The two trail down the line of the field. “I’ll get straight to the point, kid. Tokyo-Met’s really keen on scouting you for the national league following your graduation,” he says.

Gojo feels like he should be excited about that news, actually, he should be ecstatic and groveling at this man’s feet, but instead he just feels empty and hollow inside. 

“Forget the fact that you’ll be playing in the nation’s most revered team,” the man continues, “but compensation is high, too.” He pulls his phone out from his front suit pocket, tapping away at his calculator app, then turns the screen towards Gojo. Holy shit. “I’m talking about a 350 million yen per year contract here. I could advocate for higher based on how well you perform the rest of the season.”

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Gojo responds.

The man is silent for a second then sighs. When the two of them reach a somewhat secluded bench near the corner of the field, he sits down on it and expects Gojo to do the same, to which he complies.

“You know, I’m used to much more enthusiastic reactions from players that hear this kind of news, although they’re usually ecstatic for barely a hundred million a year compared to what I’ve just offered you,” the man says.

“I guess it’s the pressure,” Gojo says to him, “it’s got my emotional response circuit all fried up, y’know?” He was pulling excuses out of his ass. 

A small hmph noise is heard beside him before he sees the man pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his slacks. “I know your father has left big shoes to fill, kid. I can’t imagine the fear of feeling like you’ll fail, or the anxiety of an injury taking you out any time you’re on the field, not wanting history to repeat itself.”

Gojo’s eye twitches and he narrows his eyes at the man seated beside him. “My dad got injured in a car accident, not while playing the sport.”

“I know,” he responds, finally pulling a cigarette out of the pack, holding it between his two fingers as he rests his wrist on his knee. “The story touched the hearts of everyone in Tokyo, and the entire soccer community in general. I remember reading about it in the school newspaper. Back in the day when they still printed those things out.” Gojo’s surprised, and he’s only given a sideways smile before the man continues. “I knew your father, went to the same college as him.”

“I don’t think he ever mentioned you,” Gojo says.

He lets out a hearty laugh. “He despised me. I was a money-hungry finance major that saw a huge opportunity in mediator sports recruitment agencies. Figured if I could sign a player like your father to my start-up, I’d be set for life. He was a smart man not to sign, regardless of how things turned out.” He shakes his head musingly. “I gave up after that and got a real job. You’ll find a lot of your hopes and dreams die in college.”

“I see,” Gojo says.

The man leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and looks over with a serious expression on his face. “Tell me, son, what does this sport mean to you? Why have you dedicated your entire life to playing it?”

Gojo only gives him a cursory glance.

“Is it the fame and attention? The pride? The thrill? The prospect of earning millions and then retiring at thirty, and you get to watch your wife and kids playing in your grand estate’s pool on a sunny summer Sunday while you’re swirling around a glass of ‘90s scotch in your hand?” he asks, tone derisive but luring. “Or does it mean something more to you?”

Gojo looks down at his hands that were clenched tightly into fists. He relaxes them so that his fingers fall open weakly and his palms face the sky. He remembers the feeling of being a kid, the smell of freshly cut grass consuming his senses, the sight of bruises on his knees from how many times he fell on the field chasing after the ball, and the admiration in his father’s eyes every single time he stood back up. “It’s a chance to prove myself,” he finally says.

“Prove yourself of what?” the man pushes.

“That I’m capable of greatness,” Gojo admits, “like my father.”

The man nods slowly in acknowledgment. “Yes, your father was a great man. But not because of how he played the game. He was a great man because he knew which sacrifices were truly important.”

Gojo looks at him wearily. “Are you trying to tell a player you’re attempting to recruit that the sport isn’t important?”

He shakes his head, looking straight ahead. “No, it’s important. But it’s the meaning you give to your life outside of it that gives it importance.”

Gojo raises an eyebrow at him, not really sure what to make of the cryptic sentiment.

The man claps his hands together and stands up. “Alright, I’m sure that’s all the time you’ve got for me. Think about my offer, and if any other recruiters approach you with better ones, just know I’ll push for higher.” He hands Gojo his business card and brings his cigarette to mouth, balancing it between his lips. “Reach out if you have any questions.”

Gojo looks down at the card, his finger tracing the edge of it as he studies the shimmering gold lettering. “Why not just hit me with your best offer and leave? Why bother having this kind of conversation with me?”

The man pulls his cigarette from his mouth, pinching it between his two fingers once again. “We’ve all got regrets we want to make right, kid,” he says. And with his hands in his pockets, he walks away. 

Gojo watches the man as he makes his way down the sidelines back to the cluster of men in suits. When he hears the referee whistle, he shoves the business card in the pocket of his uniform shorts, and makes his way towards the center of the sidelines.

His teammates instantly come up to him with optimistic smiles and encouraging pats on his chest and back, trying to keep the energy high to manifest a win for today, but Gojo just feels exhausted and like he’s drowning. He has so many thoughts swimming around in his head, he can’t even begin to explain, and he just wants someone to see through him at this moment. 

The teams stand on the field for the national anthem, and then Osaka Uni’s team disperses while UTokyo’s alma mater plays. Coach Yaga yells for all the players to huddle before the coin toss and reminds them of their plays for the afternoon.

Nanami pulls his sweatbands onto his wrists, Geto pulls his hair back up into a bun, Chosou pulls tightly on the straps of his goalie gloves, and Gojo pushes his hair up off his forehead to snap his headband onto his face. He looks around to his other teammates and that sense of pride he feels to be a part of this team swells dully despite his emotions.

UTokyo wins the coin toss, choosing to kick, and Gojo finds his place in the center of the field. The crowd is already cheering preemptively, their pride in their home team evident in the passion of the filled stands, and Gojo peers across the large expanse of the field as he rests his foot on top of the soccer ball. It’s a scene he’s seen a hundred times in his life, but the sight is daunting today. He takes his foot off the ball when he hears the referee signal the start of the match with a short piercing shrill of his whistle, and the second Gojo draws his leg back and his foot makes contact with the ball, sending it flying forward, he can already feel that something feels very off.

Every single time he had the ball in his possession, his footwork felt heavy and delayed. His teammates had set up more than three chances for him to score, and he shot wide every single time. The crowd’s cheers started to diminish, and he could feel the growing discontent and exasperation from all eyes on the field. Ten minutes before halftime, they were down 1-0, and stakes were starting to feel high. 

One of his teammates passes a ball right to Gojo’s favored foot, the crowd instantly erupting with noise and stands to their feet as Gojo shuffles the ball past the penalty line, through Osaka’s defenders, eyes locked with the perfect opportunity to strike. This was good, he had his rhythm back, even if just for a moment, and he can see it, clear as day–the trajectory to the goal. With the feeling of slick sweat on his face and determination in his veins, he withdraws his leg back to kick the ball. The world went silent in his head, the only sound being the beating of his heart, and-

“this will be the last time you see me.”

When he recalls your voice, everything moves in slow-motion as his ankle slips slightly on the grass from his moment of hesitation, and then the ball is swiftly stolen by an opposing team player and maneuvered past him. 

“Fuck!” he hisses, immediately turning his head around as he helplessly watches the opponents players move with fervor in pursuit of another goal. The crowd hushed in horror as Osaka passed the ball through UTokyo’s defense, swiftly steadying down the side and sending the ball flying through Chosou’s outstretched arms. 2-0, and the lead ref calls for halftime. 

“Dude,” one of his teammates comes up to him as they walk back towards the benches and throws his arms up in the air, “what the hell is wrong with you today?”

“Seriously, man, not a single goal in the first half? You know how many times I’ve set up a shot for you?" another one of his teammates chimes in, nudging Gojo’s shoulder way harder than he’d usually warrant, and shortly after, a blaming fest begins among the players.

“Enough!” Coach Yaga yells out. All of the players quiet down and look at him, some grudgingly gulping down water while others just try to regain their breath. Gojo’s arms just hang at his sides in defeat. “We’re pushing everything on offense now, we can’t afford to miss any more shots,” Coach Yaga says, his fear of losing the match evident too despite his rough tone, “Satoru, I’m switching you out. Dai, take his place.”

“What?” Gojo asks incredulously, charging forward so he’s in front of the older man. “I’m not getting benched.”

“You will, because I say so,” Coach Yaga says sternly, “you’re distracted, boy. I can see it all over your face.”

“I’m n-”

“Just sit down,” Coach Yaga lets out a disgruntled noise. “When players are distracted, they get injured. Have faith in your teammates.”

“Coach,” Gojo asks again, this time almost pleading. He hardly ever questioned Coach Yaga’s calls, he had a great deal of respect for the man. But something within him just absolutely refused to get benched today.

Coach Yaga stares at him for a long moment, and it’s only when one of the refs chirps their whistle that he finally exhales and gives him a reluctant jerk of his head towards the field.

Geto sets up the perfect shot for Nanami to sweep for a kick that barely lands through the goalie’s lunge for the ball, and then on the next play, secures another goal himself. The score is tied, 2-2, with eight minutes left on the clock. Gojo manages to steal the ball on a defensive play, and it’s only really a stroke of luck that he manages in one solid pass the entire game, straight to Geto’s foot, crowd roaring, and he watches his best friend shoot and sink within the last minute and a half of the game. 

3-2. UTokyo’s win. 

Gojo sighs, exhausted as he makes his way to the bench, crouching down and zipping open his duffle bag. Spirits are low among the team despite the excitement from the crowd over their win because of how hauntingly close the loss felt during the last moments of the match, disinterested in celebrating at all as they meekly dispersed across the field. Gojo knew he was going to get a massive yelling-to from Coach Yaga and he could feel the searing disappointment from his teammates for not carrying the game more. This was just a bare win, could’ve gone either way, and his performance today wasn’t a good look for any recruiters either. He felt so emotionally and physically drained from this entire day, and he wasn’t sure how the hell he could feel any better.

Shuffling through his bag for a water bottle, his knuckles hit something cold and metallic-sounding tucked away inside. He hums to himself curiously before grabbing it and pulling it out.

strawberry vanilla soda.

Hm. This wasn’t the one you gave him a couple of days ago. He already drank that one. Did you sneak this into his bag? His brow furrows, and he stares at the sparkling smiling sloth on the label. When he turns the can in his hand, he sees a little note messily scribbled in black ink. 

good luck today! u got this :) ur a star

His eyes widened.

And putting his heart through a shredder would’ve hurt less than when he realizes what an idiot he’s been this entire time.

He’s instantly searching the field, peering through crowds of people, mascots, banners, flags, for any sight of you. He’s not sure how or why he goes in the direction that he does, but deep down it’s because he knows you like taking millions of pictures of flowers, and the west side exit has endless blooms of them. And so when he runs out that way, cleats tapping against the concrete pavement that leads out into the courtyard in the front of the stadium, and spots you standing there, he finally lets out the breath of air he feels like he’s been holding in his chest all day.

You’re aiming your camera at teal and orange petals scattered across the decorative florals lining the raised concrete planters, then pull it down from your face and twiddle with the settings, tilting your head to the side. You then pluck at one of the blooms that was spilling over the edges, bringing it to the tip of your nose curiously. And he just watches, chest heaving from the urgency that he rushed to get to you, heart aching from the desperation of wanting to be near you. He wanted to ask you how you were feeling, he wanted to know how your pictures came along, he wanted to know what you were doing after this, and he wanted you to be with him. But most importantly, he wanted to make sure that this wasn’t the last time he ever saw you again. 

It isn’t until a minute after that you seem keen on his presence too, and you swiftly turn your head in his direction, surprised. “Satoru?” you say. He wonders if he’ll melt. He wonders if those ice-cold barriers he’s built over the years could thaw just from the way you say his name.

But when he takes a step forward, you take a step back. And he halts. The expression on your face was unfamiliar to him. Once soft, curious, trusting. Now you looked at him like you were guarding something, keeping it safe from him, and he no longer had the right to intrude. And then he realizes the hell he’s put you through all this time.

He regrets pushing you away.

“I know I said I’d respect the fact that you want space,” he says through bated breath, “but I…I just can’t stand the thought of never seeing you again.”

You’re solemn when you look at him, reading the plea in his eyes, and then slowly shake your head. He feels like he can’t breathe. 

“I’m sorry. Goodbye.”

And then you walk out of his life.

a/n. thank you for reading! i have a few more author notes that explain a few things that i couldn't really find a way to fit into the chapter organically, but wanted to address before moving on, if you're curious you can find them here. hope to see you in the next one! pls lemme know if i missed any tags i'm sorry if i did :')

➸ take me to chapter eight!

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @lost-resonance @foulprincesscycle @purplehallow11 @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @erencvlt @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @hojoslutoru @drthymby @ninitoru @btszn @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @fvsm4x @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @cierocanteat (thank you to everyone <3)

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[writersblockiskillingme]

I Bet You Think About Me | Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader (District12!reader)

Summary: On the day of his wedding he had everything... except for the bride that he wanted.

Warning/s: angst, kind of like hurt/no comfort kind of thing, wedding, marriage without love, Coryo is drinking alcohol, reader is basically Lucy Gray in this situation, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I'M BACKK!! I missed writing so much, to be honest. All those Coryo and Lucy Gray edits to this song, plus the music video, inspired me to do this. Enjoy!

3 AM and I'm still awake, I'll bet you're just fine

Fast asleep in your city that's better than mine

And the girl in your bed has a fine pedigree

And I'll bet your friends tell you she's better than me, huh

Coriolanus Snow. The young president of Panem. He truly now felt like he had everything. He did an outstanding job as the Gamemaker. In fact, not long after, his work was praised so much that he could finally take that last step to get what he always, truly wanted. And he, in fact, did it. He was the newest president of Panem, and he knew that that was going to last for a very long time.

He had the title. He had the riches. He never had to starve ever again. He never had to wear poorly made clothes. He had the trust of the people in the Capitol, and he had the control of those in the Districts.

But as a president, everyone expected of him to choose his First Lady of Panem as quicklyaspossible, and he knew that it couldn't be just anybody.

So here he was today. Dressed up in a traditional but quite modern black tuxedo with a white undershirt and a purely white rose tucked into his suit on the right side of his chest. Standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom, preparing his wedding speech that he will have to say once he and Livia Cardew are standing on the aisle.

Livia Cardew. She was truly perfect for him. He didn't love her, of course, but that was also his own choice. That's what made her perfect for him.

Once he was forced to find himself a bride because every elite in the Capitol kept pushing, he realized that he truly had no choice. He had to keep up his reputation respectable. So, of course, he knew that his wife, the Future Lady of the Panem, couldn't be just anybody.

Livia Cardew was rich. Her family was too, of course. Their family was respected and considered quite important. Plus, she was pretty. He couldn't really deny that, really.

He chose power, money and reputation that Livia had instead of the love, kindness and compassion that came with you.

He chose it that day that he left you in the woods of District 12. He never knew what happened to you. Did you die? Did you manage to run away in the storm that somehow messed up his head. And perhaps High-as-a-kite-Bottom was telling him some sort of truth when he said that mysteries had a way of driving people mad. And perhaps, if he stayed with you, he would marry someone for love.

Coriolanus let out a groan, shaking his head in a poor attempt to shake those thoughts away. His love for you made him weak. Weak in a way that he never wanted to experience ever again.

Livia didn't have his heart like you did. He doesn't love her. Therefore, he shall never feel weak ever again. He wanted that. He wanted to never love Livia. It was easy, though. It was easy not falling in love with her. Easy compared to you.

But no! He simply refused to think about you on this day. The day of his wedding. He refused the thoughts of you to consume his mind once again. Coriolanus wouldn't let that happen.

So he turned back to the giant mirror that stood in front of him and started to go over his vows once again.

"My darling Livia. You are the most beautiful person I have every encountered." Coriolanus felt his breath shorten at his own lies. "And today, I am honored to be your husband."

It was so fake. It was so cheesy. It was so untrue.

He had to prepare the speech for his bride. For the bride that he never loved.

"Mr. President?" One of the servants came in and addressed him shortly. "It's time."

"I will be there shortly." Coriolanus replied coldly, and the servant closed the door behind him.

Once the door was closed shut once again, he let out a quite loud sigh. In just a few minutes Livia will become a Snow and he will have to proudly show off his little wife that tormented and made fun of him for years during his academy days.

With that thought, President Coriolanus Snow stepped forward towards the door. On the doorway, he lingered. He looked out of the window across his room. He looked out on the city of the Capitol and its glamor and riches and he once again came to a realization that Livia was a perfect fit for his lifestyle unlike you. But he won't ever think of you again.

With the thoughts of you that once again swarmed his head, he loudly closed the door behind himself. Slamming it shut.

Well, I tried to fit in with your upper-crust circles

Yeah, they let me sit in back when we were in love

Oh, they sit around talkin' 'bout the meaning of life

And the book that just saved 'em that I hadn't heard of

After the priest said everything that needed to be said and after Coriolanus, and Livia, did everything that needed to be done the young, freshly married couple walked towards the reception, quickly being surrounded by the Capitol's elite that eagerly introduced themselves like they were one of the most important people there.

Perhaps they were, not that Coriolanus cared even a slightest bit.

Livia was standing in the middle of the circle made by the numerous Capitol's elite while he was standing next to her, a glass of posca in his hand. He knew that drinking that liquid in his glass was not the smartest thing for him considering the fact that the alcoholic drink was perhaps a bit too strong.

Not like he considered it worth giving a damn. He needed something very strong to wash away the feeling of Livia Snow's lips on his once the priest said that he can now kiss his bride.

And now, as he took yet another sip from the tall glass, he still felt disgusted by her. Himself. The whole situation.

A few more minutes, that to Coriolanus felt like hours, passed by. The people's excited chatter. The joy of the new President and the Panem's First Lady was over-the-top evident on everyone's face, except for his.

Livia was bathing in attention that were given to her, smiling, quite pleased with the whole situation. Coriolanus felt like he was going to throw up as he watched the scene unfold in front of him as he, too, had to pretend to be happy with everything.

And perhaps it was to much of the posca that he drowned that night or perhaps it was all of the whiteness of the entire reception that made him think what he thought. Hear what he heard.

As he took another sip from the glass, he could have sworn that he heard that melodic voice that haunted both his dreams and his worst nightmares.

But now that we're done and it's over

I bet you couldn't believe

When you realized I'm harder to forget than I was to leave

And I bet you think about me

Coriolanus watched with wide eyes as you stood a few feet away from him, dressed in the blood-red dress that reached the floor barely as it hugged your frame perfectly. You, in your red dress, stood out so perfectly among the white clothes that every guest was required to wear. You stood out so much, he wondered how nobody but him noticed you.

You stood tall and proud by the enormously big wedding cake, which required the front door to be taken away so it could be placed where it was. Snow remembered watching the staff bringing in the cake, the door laying on the grass behind the servant as they carried the said cake. It was ridiculous.

You turned towards the cake, not noticing his ever so blue eyes trailing on you as you moved.

Coriolanus felt his breath shorten once again as he watched your everlasting beauty. He was suddenly very aware of the cool glass that contained posca in his hand and the cold sweat that was sliding down his spine. Was it panic? Was it anticipation? He didn't know.

He watched you as you stretched your hand out towards the top of the cake as you stood on the gigantic table where it was placed, your red heels clicking as you did so.

Suddenly, you knocked over two figures, one of himself and one of Livia dressed up for their wedding. He let out a quiet, barely audible, gasp as you did so and then slowly lowered yourself to the ground.

A little girl, dressed in white, a guest, appeared you as Coriolanus watched. You quickly froze, standing completely still. After a very short while, you slid your finger over the icing of the cake and put the finger in your mouth, tasting the cake.

The little girl smiled and did the same. You and the girl shared the smile before you struck your hand into the cake, ripping one piece out revealing the red color under the purely white cake before you shoved it into your mouth, eating it. The little girl ran off after getting the taste of the delicious cake as you chewed on your piece.

As you did so, Coriolanus and you established eye contact. You made a grimace that clearly indicated that you were disappointed that you had been caught.

Coriolanus Snow allowed himself to blink for a moment to compose himself, and once he re-opened, you were gone.

You grew up in a silver-spoon gated community

Glamorous, shiny, bright Beverly Hills

I was raised on a farm, no, it wasn't a mansion

Just livin' room dancin' and kitchen table bills

Coriolanus and Livia sat down at the front of the reception as the entertainer did his job. He entered the guests of the Capitol’s elite with the microphone in his hand, tight grip on it, which showed Coriolanus that he was nervous.

Coriolanus brushed it off because, all things considered, he was doing quite a good job. He even found himself laughing along to the jokes that were being made.

After one more joke, he turned to one of the Capitol’s elite to quietly, with a smile on his face, discuss the joke that was made. However, the moment he turned back around, his smile disappeared at the sight in front of him.

You were standing there, in a red suit, with a red microphone on your hands, making jokes.

"And then," you spoke in the fit of giggles. "He left me in the woods to die after he told me he loved me."

You laughed after it, and every single Capitol’s elite followed. Coriolanus felt like he wanted to die at that moment, the look of pure horror planted onto his face.

"And best of all was that he HIMSELF tried to kill me with a gun!" You smiled as you tapped a few times on the table near Livia as you pointed at him with a smile, and every single guest of the wedding reception broke into laughter once again.

This can't be real, can it? Coriolanus thought to himself as he watched you.

But you know what they say, you can't help who you fall for

And you and I fell like an early spring snow

But reality crept in, you said we're too different

You laughed at my dreams, rolled your eyes at my jokes

After that, you, out of nowhere, pulled out a little red box as you made your way towards Livia, who was looking at you with anticipation and excitement.

You handed her your gift as Coriolanus found it harder and harder to breathe.

Livia quickly, but gracefully, opened the box as she removed the ribbon on top.

And as she pulled out the shawl that belonged to Coriolanus' mother, he felt like he was going to scream at the top of his lungs.

It was the shawl that Coriolanus gifted to you back when the two of you took off into the woods. That was the only thing that he found once he started to chase you through the woods. He never found you, though.

Livia placed it around her as she thanked you for the gift. Everyone around you swooned at your sweet gesture as they clapped pleasingly.

You bowed your head down slowly after you drowned the glass of alcohol, falling into the crowd of guests. Disappearing once again.

Now you're out in the world, searchin' for your soul

Scared not to be hip, scared to get old

Chasin' make-believe status, last time you felt free

Was when none of that shit mattered 'cause you were with me

Coriolanus chased after you, trying to catch you. He was suddenly blinded by the light because of the photographer that was taking pictures.

After the photographer went away, Coriolanus rubbed his eyes as his vision, thankfully, turned back to normal. He looked ahead.

And there you were. In a while wedding dress. The back of the dress was trailing behind you. The dress was also graced by white roses all over it. Your hair was in a type of hairstyle that was holding it all up. Your eyes were watching his every move as you stood in front of him.

Coriolanus felt like he couldn't breathe, and so, for a moment, he felt himself longing to cherish every moment of this.

It was just like Coriolanus had imagined it. You as his bride, himself as your groom. It was everything that he truly needed. Everything he ever wanted. Just you and him. You two of you having your first dance as a freshly married couple.

Suddenly, all lights but one went away. The white light above you shined as Coriolanus tried to catch his breath.

He slowly stepped forward, and you immediately followed his lead. Soon, you were standing in front of each other. Chest to chest. So intimate. So perfect.

He slowly reached for your hand, placing it onto his as he soaked up the feeling of your soft skin against his.

He slid his other hand around your waist, bringing you closer to him as you placed your other hand on his shoulder. For a moment, everything stood still. For a moment, the only thing that Coriolanus could hear was his breathing and the beating of his heart.

Coriolanus and you leaned your foreheads against each other, noses brushing. Coriolanus closed his eyes. He never wanted this to end. Then you started to dance.

You were moving with such grace as he spinned you around. His hand in yours as you slided around the dance floor.

"Coryo," your soft voice that whispered in his ear broke the peaceful silence, and his eyes snapped to yours. His eyes. His ocean blue eyes that were always so cold now looked at you with so much gentleness and pure adoration.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, my love." Coriolanus answered without any hesitation.

"Does it make you feel sad that the love that you're looking for was the love that you had?"

Coriolanus was speechless. The look in your eyes caused the lump in his throat to be stuck there forevermore. He didn't say anything. He didn't protest to your claim. How could he? You were right. On the day of his wedding, he wished to marry you, not Livia. He never found in Livia what he did in you, and he, let's be honest, never will.

Suddenly, before he could stop you, you moved away from him, letting go of his hand and shoulder.

But now that we're done and it's over

I bet it's hard to believe

But it turned out I'm harder to forget than I was to leave

And, yeah, I bet you think about me

You lifted the front of your dress a little bit so you could walk without tripping over. You gazed over your shoulder at Coriolanus before you continued to walk away.

Once you were far away from him, you turned around, quickly causing your hair to fall down your shoulders as you leaned towards him.

All of a sudden, your dress turned red, and as you took a hold of your guitar that he knew all too well (hihi, get it?) the white roses on your dress were painted red.

The white curtain behind you fell, revealing the red light and the Covey as you played your guitar, softly swaying to the music you made.

"I hope you get what you deserve, Coriolanus Snow," you spoke softly, meeting his eyes once more. "But I don't need to worry. You will get what you deserve one day."

With a soft smile, you started to sing.

I bet you think about me when you're out

At your cool indie music concerts every week

I bet you think about me in your house

With your organic shoes and your million-dollar couch

I bet you think about me when you say

"Oh my God, she's insane, she wrote a song about me"

I bet you think about me 🌹

->

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TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @10ava01 @regulusblackcore @writesleah @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @caroline-books @runningfrom2am

#imagine #fic #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #thg #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x female!reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift #taylor stans #taylor swift inspired #i bet you think about me #red taylor’s version #from the vault #x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #angst #hurt/no comfort #Spotify

[plutosfallenangel]

Random Moon Sign Observations | pt.II

(*based on personal experiences and opinions. look at the whole natal chart to gain complete insight, some aspects/house placements can make contradictions to the below information*)

• Scorpio Moon •

-always watching, taking it all in..

-knows most of the answers to questions before they ask

-dry humor (which I personally love)

-passionate about whatever they put their mind to, no half or 50% effort (they do have to be emotionally bonded to the person or hobbie/task, if not, they're redirecting their energy elsewhere)

-prone to becoming hyperfocused on one specific thing (most times to their detriment)

-mommy issues (but they don't talk about them, and hate when you assume you know the relationship dynamic, it's a very unique relationship dynamic and overtime it can grow to be stronger or more distant)

-deep conversations if they trust you, which is hard to gain. Trust is earned through sacrifice most times.. even if something small, they need to see you prove your loyalty and trust)

-the one I would call to bury a body (jokes pls)

-doesn't like to make assumptions, uses their earned knowledge on human behavior, they will study those around them like a case study, only to come to their own conclusions after seeing all the "facts". They can be extremely patient in this act too... they want to know you from the inside out

-sensitive to shifts in the mood, but again.. most times they will keep this information inside and watch, study you to see why it shifted

• Sagittarius moon •

-life of the party (unless heavy earth placements, bedtime comes sooner than later especially with age)

-will be the one you can call to come help you get your car stuck out of the mud, or go biking in the backwoods.. just down for anything and personally I love that about them

-can be too concerned about keeping the good times rolling, doesn't always directly express emotions.. but it's more like a dark joke, everything is turned into a joke, you just need to decipher it most times. And if it's not turned into a joke, they will laugh after they tell you horrible news. Imo a defense mechanism

-may lack boundaries when it comes to those they connect with emotionally, this isn't always a bad thing, they're coming from a place of exploration... like "how far can you and I go?" However sometimes I find they are the most capable of staying in bad situations, always trying to see the good in everyone

-can start a campfire with their bare hands, or atleast minimal tools, very attracted to fire.. find them near a fire all year round if its possible for them to do so

-can sometimes be sneakier than Scorpio moons.. when they set their eye on something in the distance that they want, they go about it most times in silence (this does depend on which house the moon is in)

-big lovers, big emotions, and larger than life dreams

-facial expressions for DAYS! I love how expressive they are.. warm smiles

-definitely rebellious in their younger years

-doesn't like to be tied down by family, but can adapt (most often moves away from mother)

• Capricorn moon •

- lives by the work hard, play harder motto

-always learns the hard way, doesn't like to take advice, rather learn through experience

-tells you like it is when you ask for relationship advice

-too many responsibilities when they were young, even if they had a good solid foundation growing up and were provided for, the expectations put on them were very heavy

-its never "how are you feeling", more "do you need anything?" and I love them for it

-happiest when they're putting themselves into something they can build on long-term, when they don't have that they can spiral FAST

-these people can drink.. and when I say drink, they're the ones to clear a 12-pack and act like they're still sober (from my experience lol)

-in my experience is much of a mommy's girl/boy as cancer moons are (esp when they're young.. they always want to take care of their mom)

-very in tune with the weather, I notice they most times have allergies or can feel a storm coming from how their body reacts

-big provider energy, but they can feel like they can't accept help from others, and end up toughing out the storm by themselves.. this is often from early childhood experiences that breed the need for extreme independence in some form

• Aquarius moon •

-they are on their own energetic wavelengths together, all aqua moons come here for a very specific reason that aligns with what society needs to be shifted/changed.. no matter how big or small the reputation they have they make an impact on those around them. Most are well-known in their local community

-big futures/big dreamers.. these people can see themselves 10 years down the road when you ask them where they'll be, they might not have a CLUE how to get there (depending on the rest of the chart) but they'll always have a sense of direction intuitively on how to get there

-can become way too overanalyzing of their own feelings and that of others.. over thinkers. They can have a hard time reading emotional encounters in the moment.. they need some time to brew with it, read into it, and for them it's easy to sit with these memories of emotion because aqua is a fixed sign

-there is an inner hermit that exists within all of them, do NOT disturb them during their hermit hours

-doesn't give much energy out to people who do them wrong, or atleast out loud to others. They love to share stories about other people, but aren't the first ones to bring up drama when it happens

-their mom is supportive of their endeavors and always wishes the best for them.. I've never met an aqua moon that didn't have a supportive mom (again this does depend on the whole chart, esp 12H moons)

-naturally creative, most I know are very passionate about creative projects and can easily bury themselves in one for long periods of time

-most times they hate having to cancel plans, not because they dont want to go, it's because they hate feeling like they let someone down

-if they invite you to their house, they will make sure you feel at home

-big social circles, few close friends that understand them

-loves to share their viewpoints, but can have bad memories lol they tend to "misplace" memories, you never know what will trigger an old forgotten memory to come up only to dissappear again

-very smart, loves YouTube videos, emotional comfort documentaries

• Pisces Moon •

-can become their mothers "mother" in a sense, their mom might rely on them a lot

-doesnt mind crying infront of others, and for me I admire this... let it out!! There's NO shame in it! (Just don't do it to manipulate others obv)

-vivid imagination, lucid dreamers, I have a 12H moon and often find myself bonding over dream stories with them

-doesn't mind disappearing until they feel up to being social, just don't forget to check in on them, they love compassion

-i often see when they share their emotions and unfortunate stories with others that it causes them to open up too, they love to hold emotional space for people especially those closest

-can often feel the "blame" from others even if it's not theirs, they can feel like they're always doing something wrong or someone is upset and it is because of them, which is most often not the case

-will decorate with a lot of pastels or a wide variety of colors in their home

-the best mentors in their life are women

-journals, journals, journals... let me into your mind palace

-soft poets, or amateur artists, this moon sign expresses a lot of emotion through art. Art helps them put a finger on how they're feeling. They channel divine messages and emotions through a craft, and even if it's not their own art they are connecting with, they will resonate with it and pass a message along to others that helps them understand something they need to at the time

-either early bedtime or no bedtime at all, creature of the night or morning star.. there's no in between with them

-being alone helps them process the most. Especially the shower lol they can process days worth of emotions in the shower I'm convinced

#astrology #astrology observations #astro observations #moon signs #astro community #astrology community #scorpio #scorpio moon #sagittarius moon #capricorn moon #aquarius moon #pisces moon

[loimposibleesloquenoseintenta]

Her favorite uncle

Another short story about teenage Willow Everdeen Mellark, but this time at her home in District 12. She sneaked out to have some fun with her friends at night, and now she must face her parents. But no worries, uncle Haymitch is there to save the day, well kind of. I just wanted to write something about Haymitch being an old uncle/grandpa figure to Katniss and Peeta's daughter. In my mind she can be quite rebellious and impulsive, while still loving her family and wanting to make them proud. But she's also young and wants to have fun. I like thinking that between her and Haymitch there is a special bond, he listens to her and tries his best to guide her. And she trusts him deeply. Also, Willow and her brother (Rye) do get along and love each other, I just didn't develop their relationship that much this time. tw: mentions of underage drinking

The treacherous keys slip from my hands and hit the ground. I curse under my breath. At this pace, there’s no way I’ll get in the house without making any noise. Great. My head’s killing me and now I’ll have to come up with an excuse to explain my night out. I can see my parents’ face already. I think about my brother, biting his tongue, acting like he doesn’t know anything about me sneaking out. He’d never snitch on me, but I know how much he hates secrets. In this family trust is everything, and I respect that. But I just wanted to have some fun with my friends. Is that so wrong?

Under the night sky, I struggle to see the keys, and the drunkenness doesn’t help much. I finally find them and continue on my way, dragging my feet. I'm about to resign myself to the consequences when I notice light coming from Haymitch’s kitchen. Could he be awake at this hour? Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me. Curiosity drives me to stealthily approach his window and when I take a peek inside, I jump back startled. Sitting at the table, drinking something hot, is my old uncle Haymitch looking at me without an ounce of surprise. Mi mind is still somewhat confused, but if one thing’s for sure, is that I’m in trouble. And he knows it too. He points at the door with his thumb and his eyes leave no space for refusal.

As I enter the kitchen, I'm enveloped by the smell of coffee. With his back to me, he's making a second cup. I sit down and place my head on my arms.  

"So, tell me, did you have fun, little one?" he asks handing me the drink.

"How did you know?" I mumble with my eyes closed.

"Your brother called me" I lift my head so fast I get dizzy.

"Hey, you know it’s not his fault. He’s just worried about you. You should be thankful he didn’t tell your parents, honey" and he’s right. I can’t blame Rye for anything. I’m the one who broke the rules.

"What about you? Why didn’t you say anything?"

"I think you’re old enough to fend for yourself. But if they found out, I won’t deny anything, you hear me?" he declares with an accusing finger.

"Thank you Haymitch" I offer him one of those smiles I use to soften him. They always work, even if he denies it.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now drink your coffee and tell me what you’ve been up to over there"

There’s no point in hiding anything to him, he can read my mind without trying. So, I tell him all about the laughs, the dancing, the drinking and the gossip. We keep talking until dawn, and, even though he doesn’t judge me for my juvenile adventures, he asks me to be more responsible next time. Especially with my drinking. At times like this I wonder how his life used to be before I was born. Even if my family tries to be as honest as possible about their past, I know there’re things that are just too hard to explain. I understand that, so I don’t pressure them, but sometimes I can’t help but think about it.

When the phone rings, Haymitch tells my mom I had agreed to help him with his geese that morning. Apparently, I was so excited with the task that I had woken up extra early to enjoy breakfast with my favorite uncle. I doubt she bought it, but she didn’t ask more questions. Later I understand that she just wanted to laugh at my disastrous attempt to deal with those wild animals. Well, at least someone’s having a good time. With that said, I think I won’t drink again for a long, long time.

#the hunger games #thg #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #toast babies #toastbabies #everlark family #everlark #everlark headcanon #post mockingjay #willow mellark #willow everdeen #rye mellark #rye everdeen #haymitch abernathy

[lord-ofthe-bands]

Interview [12/05/82]

[00:00]

Interviewer: Alright Mr.Merridew, ready when you are.

Jack: Just Jack is fine.

Interviewer: Alright Jack, mind if we get started?

Jack: No, not at all.

Interviewer: Perfect! Now, the people are curious. How did your band "Lord of the Flies" come to be?

Jack: Well, it actually started with me and my good friend Ralph Allabach-

Interviewer: Ah yes! Ralph. He was in here a few days ago with that Peter kid.

Jack: [clears throat] As I was saying, Ralph taught me how to play guitar about 2 years ago. It really was just us and his sister Raven in a small, town-home garage. The rest is history I guess you could say. Me 'n Roger have been friends for ever so he started tagging along when he picked up bass. Me and Ralphie met Simon and the twins at the start of the next school semester in our geometry class. From there we just kinda formed our bands with our people. We are all very close. I mean, life's borin without some friendly companion, amirite?

Interviewer: [chuckling] Did you say Ralphie?

Jack: Of course darlin.

Interviewer: I see you have a thing for nicknames. Tell me more about yourself, Jack.

Jack: [note, Jack seems to get anxious after being asked this question] Well, what'chya wanna know?

Interviewer: Let's start simple, how's your school life? If I'm not mistaken, you're sixteen, correct?

Jack: Yup, born in '66

Interviewer: Ah, good times. So you're in...

Jack: 10th grade. I'm a sophomore. Back to your previous question, school sucks ass to be honest. But I can't complain too much. I'm passing and that's all that really matters.

Interviewer: Highschool wasn't the worst years of my life but they certainly weren't the best. I do remember my girlfriend my senior year. Jenny Thompson. Do you have a girlfriend, Jack?

Jack: [chokes on the drink he was previously sipping, his cheeks get noticeably red] No, sir.

Interviewer: Ah that's all right. You've got plenty of time. Tell me Jack, why did you pick electric guitar out of everything?

Jack: I knew it would piss my mom off. I also heard Ralph practicing one day and, I don't know, kinda decided that I wanted to do that too.

Interviewer: I see. Now, why rock? I'm more of a Beatle's fan myself so I'm not familiar with the rock genre.

Jack: Hey, the Beatles are awesome. I've loved rock ever since Ralph and Raven got me into it. My parents are...uptight, so we mainly listen to classical and country in my house. Anyways, I just love the pure, raw emotion in rock, you know? Plus, I love a good riff to play. Simon is, like, insanely good at drums so it's fun to play stuff with him.

Interviewer: [chuckles] I didn't picture you as much of a Beatles fan. Your folks like Johnny Cash?

Jack: No, not really.

Interviewer: Damn shame. I can't help but ask, your hair. Is there a reason you keep it so long?

Jack: Ralph likes it and my mom hates it.

Interviewer: I see. You seem to have a lot of teen angst. Any reason to that?

Jack: My parents are assholes. My mom is an entrepreneur and needs things to be perfect and done her way. My old man's got a thing for cigs and isn't home often. I don't mind really, I'm usually at Ralph's house anyways.

Interviewer: I'm sorry to hear about that. Your folks seem to be busy trying to manage work and home time. Now Ralph, you guys been friends for long?

Jack: I've known of him for a while but we became friends 8th grade year in english.

Interviewer: Ah, I see. That's cool, it's good to have close friends. I have just a few more questions written down here Jack. Sound good?

Jack: Hit me.

Interviewer: [snickers] Alright then. Who inspired your style of music?

Jack: Oh boy. Uhhhh let's see...Queen, for sure. ACDC as well. Billy Idol, Metallica, Talking Heads, Heart, Judas Priest, Pink Floyd, KISS, Ozzy, stuff like that.

Interviewer: You've got great taste from what I know, young man.

Jack: Thank you!

Interviewer: Alright, we are running out of time but I do have room for one last question. What do you hope the future of your band looks like?

Jack: Oh, that's a good question. I uh..I don't know to be honest. I just sorta take things one day at a time. I haven't thought that far ahead.

Interviewer: That's a shame. Well Jack, thanks for your time. It was a pleasure meeting you.

Jack: Same to you sir.

[The two stand up and shake hands]

[Video cuts]

[10:48]

#lord of the bands #tw:implied child abuse #lotf au #jack lord of the bands #lord of the band interviews #the start of the au #lotb #band au #celebrity interviews #jalph #implied jalph

[mouschiwrites]

HIIIi love your writing so much so here i am making a request with promp 12. or 19.?? maybe combo or you can choose whichever youd like with the character Zane from Ninjago

when maybe with prompt 12 where Zane has some sort of panic attack so the reader is there to help him??? THANK YOU SO MUCH IF YOU DO HAVE A GREAT DAY AND DONT FORGET TO DRINK AND EAT UP😼😼😽

YAH thank you sweets!! One Zane fic, compliments to the lovely anon!! <3

Word count: 1.3k

Ninjago - 12. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” and 19. “Your hair looks so soft.” (Zane) (300 follower event)

The market was alive with noise and movement. The torrent of people was thick and powerful; if you stepped into it, you were bound to be swept away. So you and the ninjas made sure to stay on the outer edge, using alleyways as they were available instead of braving the main street.

Zane was never a fan of large crowds. They caused him a faint anxiety, especially when he was with people, as that added the responsibility of keeping track of them. You, of course, knew about this, so you were holding his hand to ensure you wouldn’t be separated. You still saw the occasional flicker of worry in his eyes, but you knew it couldn’t be helped.

“How far did Ronin say it was?” You asked, getting a little impatient. “We’ve been wandering the streets for hours.”

“That’s the thing,” Lloyd sighed. “He didn’t say how far it was. He just said to ‘look for a cart in a caravan with a blue feather painted on the door.’”

Jay rolled his eyes. “How specific of him.”

“I still think our best bet is the market. Where else would a caravan be in such a huge city?”

“Nya’s right. We’ll keep searching here,” Kai agreed as they emerged from an alley into a new portion of the market.

Before you stepped into the noisiness again, you paused, leaning in to speak softly to Zane. “Doing okay?”

He gave a sincere smile, squeezing your hand. “Yes. Thank you.”

You smiled back, hurrying to catch up with the others before they got too far.

You traversed several more streets before you found anything; the market was like an endless maze, seemingly never ending no matter how many twists and turns one made.

Your blind trek finally came to a conclusion as the sun was beginning to flush the blue from the sky with orange, and the people were beginning to head home. Many vendors had also left, but fortunately for your party the caravan appeared inhabited still.

It was a posse of quaint carts, each not much bigger than your average camping trailer. The intricate blue feather painted on the door distinguished the one you were looking for, and Jay practically bounded up the steep stairs to pound on the door.

There was no answer. Jay’s fists clenched. “If Ronin sent us on yet another wild goose chase—!”

“Are you looking for Natalia?”

Everyone turned their heads to see a young boy peering out from behind the cart. After exchanging glances and shrugs among yourselves, you turned helplessly to the boy. “Is this Natalia’s cart?”

“Yes. I will tell her she has visitors. She will be a while. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you waiting inside.” The boy disappeared as quickly as he had come.

Jay opened the door just as you had opened your mouth to ask if it was a good idea to go inside. You hadn’t missed the way that Zane’s hand was tightening around yours, and you had a pretty good guess as to why. It had been a long day full of stress, and now he was being packed into a little cart with six other people. The strong smell of incense wafting from the open door wasn’t promising, either; you could tell before even stepping inside that you’d be choked by the smell.

And choked you were. The oppressive heat in the cart (partly from the several sticks of incense burning in the small space) only worsened the smell. The numberless trinkets and furniture impossibly crammed into the little space made it twice as claustrophobic as it should have been, what with seven people now crammed inside.

It was the smells. The colors. The heat. The voices of the ninjas. The voices of the remaining people out on the street. Everything. But most of all it was the stress of being on a mission in such a place. Zane had been trying to keep serious, knowing that what they were doing was important. But it was too much. It was all just so noisy.

Zane suddenly let go of your hand. Even the feeling of your skin on his was making everything worse. He tried to close his eyes, but it didn’t help, so he opened them again, and that didn’t help, either. It seemed that whatever he did, he was making the panic worse.

You knew what was up the second he stopped gripping your hand.

“Guys,” you spoke over the others, sounding as casual as you could. “Why don’t you go and keep a lookout for this ‘Natalie’ person?” You nodded at the door.

Jay opened his mouth to protest, but Kai, who seemed to suddenly notice Zane, smacked his shoulder before he could speak. He ushered the others out quickly, sending an encouraging look your way before stepping out himself.

You turned to face Zane when you heard the door close. By now his breathing was ragged and he was shifting his weight uncomfortably, his fingernails digging roughly into his palms.

“Hey,” you spoke quietly. “Zane. Just look at me.”

His head snapped up, distressed eyes wild as they bored into yours.

“Good. Now focus on me. Look in my eyes. It’s just you and me.” You seamlessly wrapped your hands around his, wedging his fingers out of his palms to entwine with yours as they relaxed.

He nodded subtly, but his breathing was only growing faster. You repeated your last line a few times, making sure to keep your tone calm and encouraging.

Zane’s hands gradually unclenched, and after a while his breathing finally began to slow.

“You’re doing great. Deep breaths. Here, just follow my lead.” You breathed deep too, letting him synchronize his breaths with yours.

Tears started to brim his eyes, and you could see the exhaustion of the day taking its toll on him: his knees wobbled a bit, so you guided him to a chair.

“Just take it easy,” you whispered, pulling up another chair beside him.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulder, letting him put his head on your torso. You felt him start to shake, and though he was clearly trying to keep his breathing calm.

“Your hair looks so soft,” you murmured. “Can I touch it?”

Given a small nod by Zane, you reached up a hand to stroke his hair. This seemed to help keep him relatively calm as he trembled, working the remaining anxiety out of his system.

It was a while before he tried to straighten himself. He suddenly pulled away from your chest, looking into your eyes with a sincere smile. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice a little unsteady.

You just nodded, bringing the hand that was buried in his hair down to cup his cheek. “Of course.”

Zane placed his hand atop yours, adding pressure to quell the shakiness. He turned his head a little to kiss your palm as he leaned into your touch.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You blushed a little, making Zane’s smile spread wider.

“Do you want to go back?”

“No. I’d like to finish the mission. I feel much better.”

You eyed him warily, prompting him to grab both of your hands and hold them on your lap. “Trust me, I’m fine now.”

You didn’t like the twinge of exhaustion you saw in his eyes, but ultimately you respected his judgment. You gave a small nod.

Not two seconds later a knock came at the door of the little cart. You heard Jay’s voice on the other side. “Guys! Natalia’s coming!”

You both shot up, you scrambling to the door, Zane following a step behind. You paused as you grabbed the handle, looking back at Zane one last time.

“Let’s go out,” Zane insisted. “The smell in here really is oppressive.”

You laughed, affirming your agreement by swinging the door open and hopping into the fresh air outside.

When on flat ground, Zane held your hand once more, once again aware of the (admittedly smaller but still not insignificant) bustling market.

Kai sent you a look that asked: All good?

You gave a thumbs-up, earning a confused yet innocent smile from Zane.

“All good,” you said, kissing Zane’s hand quickly before getting down to business; Natalie was approaching, and the mission had to go on.

Thank you so much for participating in our event!! And thanks for reading, take care guys <33

(divider by saradika)

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago x reader #zane julien #zane julien x reader #zane x reader #ninjago fanfiction

[perplexedflower]

SPN Drabbles - 12/14: Beers And Rock

Fandom: Supernatural.

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Dean Winchester x Female Reader.

Type: Drabble.

Words: 550.

Chronology: Season 2.

~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm going to pretend those words never came out of your mouth."

"Aw, c'mon sweetheart." The man chuckled, visibly amused. "What's wrong with wanting to buy a pretty girl a beer?"

"God..." I sighed as I rolled my eyes.

I pressed one of my hands on my forehead before turning my head to him.

"You know what? Actually, I wouldn't mind you buying me a drink. That way I'll have something to smash on your head if you keep on being a jerk."

The man scoffed and, surprisingly, smiled. I stared into his eyes for a few seconds before smiling faintly and shaking my head slowly.

"Forget I said anything. For all I know, you might even be into that."

His face expressed sudden surprise, but I could tell by the glimpse in his eyes that my supposition was correct. I looked over my shoulder before turning back around to the freckles-riddled face sitting next to me.

"Anyway." I started while taking a sip from my drink. "Since you're taking the liberty of being personal with me, allow me to do the same: that buddy of yours, who's he?"

A few tables behind us sat a young man with shaggy brown hair, seemingly very busy working on some kinds of newspapers and sheets. I pointed at him with my thumb and the man sitting to my right looked in his direction, before turning back to me.

"How d'you know he's with me?" He asked, somewhat confused.

"Well, he looks like he's very focused on... whatever it is he's doing right now." I said, giving him quick glances over my shoulder. "But apparently, not focused enough not to help himself from looking up from his work and staring at us every two minutes or so."

Still looking at the man behind us, my green-eyed friend sitting beside me sighed, before giving him a look from afar.

"He's my brother." He said, turning back around. "His name is Sam. I'm Dean, by the way."

"Well, Dean, your brother seems like the type who likes to watch."

"No, it's not like that. He just-"

"He just doesn't understand how you can keep on hitting on so many girls all the time?" I finished his sentence with a raised eyebrow.

He gave his brother one last look before turning his back to him completely.

"Yeah, something like that."

Dean had just finished speaking when a familiar guitar solo suddenly resonated throughout the bar.

"Oh, hell yeah." He chuckled with a smile as he looked behind him at the jukebox.

I tried my best to control myself, not wanting Dean to know, but it was too strong for me to hold it in, and I began tapping my fingers on the counter to the beat of AC/DC's "You Shook Me All Night Long". When he turned back around, his smile widened even more the second he noticed I was into the song. He stared into my eyes with an electrifying feeling, before softly hitting my arm with his elbow.

"I think you and I might have more in common than I thought. Say, tell me a bit about yourself."

Still looking into his eyes, I smiled from one corner of my mouth.

"Buy me that beer you offered earlier, and you've got yourself a deal."

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfictions #dean winchester drabble #dean winchester drabbles #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester imagines #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfictions #supernatural drabble #supernatural drabbles #supernatural imagine #supernatural imagines #spn #female reader #perplexedflower

[p1stay]

STUFFED SQUIRREL

Han×reader

genres fluff, comfort

"You are a lonely girl who lives alone with your stuffed squirrel that your grandma gifted you when you were young but she passed away when you were 12.But you always feel like that stuffed squirrel can have feelings like humans. One day you meet him the one who makes that stuffed squirrel and he tells you about it and he changes your life..."

Magic Au, friend to lover

Sorry if the story no good. My English is bad too :( hope you guys like it.

you always have a stuffed squirrel by your side even though you are old.....ummm I mean 22 years old, because you need it, you hug it when you are sad, cry, or when you are happy... let's just say you need it all the time. That stuffed squirrel was a lovely gift from your gramma when you were still a kid...but your grandma passed away when you were 12. you always talk and share your school day, and your feelings with your grandma, but she is gone and you feel alone all the time, no one to talk with, no friends, and your parents never understand you, but you are too scared to make friends. So you talk with that stuffed squirrel every night. But sometimes you feel like the stuffed squirrel can listen and understand what you say, sometimes you hug it you feel like have warm arms wrapped around you and hug, comfort you.

___*************************___

One day, you went to school like normal...but when you arrived at school you realized that you had forgotten your homework at home. You frantically checked your bad, but it was no use. You start to panic, you sit down and try to calm down but you can't, you want to hug your stuffed squirrel but you didn't bring it to school. The teacher came in and told everyone to submit homework, and you panicked more. The teacher didn't see your homework so she called you and yelled at you

" miss Y/N, how many times you have forgotten your homework..."

"i-i'm sorry miss, it won't happen again-" she cut you off

" won't happen again?! THIS IS NOT THE FIRST TIME! do you have brain? why do you always forget just a little thing?! how old are you now, such a useless girl, you don't have to study in my class today...GET OUT!”

you want to explain but it's useless so you decide to keep quiet take your bag and leave...you leave the classroom feeling angry at yourself. You couldn't believe that you had just made such a stupid mistake.

You want to go to the park nearby and get some fresh air but...well, things never went like what you wanted. As soon as you sit down at the park...it starts to rain and you don't have an umbrella with you. You run to the bus stop near there to get shelter from the rain, your clothes all wet and your bag. after some moment, you check the time, and is time to go to work ( you work at the coffee shop) but the rain hasn't stopped yet. But you have to work and the rain is getting worse. You came jogging into the coffee shop, soaked to the bone. Your hair was dripping and soaked as the rest of you... You were late, with your wet clothes you went inside and changed your clothes. As you expected, your boss yelled at you and made you do more work.

-----10:00pm----

you have finally done your work and you are the last one still in the coffee shop. When you are about to leave, a guy with brown undercut hair with glasses, wearing a long coat and a black shirt inside. He reminds you of your stuffed squirrel. He opens the door, holding an umbrella:

"Sorry, I know it's late but can I stay here for a bit... it's kinda cold outside” he said with a soft smile and he hit you hard with that smile. your heart is pounding like crazy.

”o-oh sure, come and sit I can make something for you to drink" Your cheek is turning red

" Do you mind if I ask what's your name?" he gave you a warm smile and nod, making you feel butterfly

"I'm Jisung, Han Jisung but my friends used to call me Han." you put a cup of hot tea and a cheesecake on the table and sat opposite him.

"That's a very cute name. Oh, what are you doing at this time? it's like 10:30 p.m. now." you tilt your head and somehow Han finds it cute and chuckles.

he took a sip of his drink "I was just about to head home after work but it was cold outside so I wanted to have some warm tea but I can't find any coffee shop here...so I came here, thank you for letting me stay here and sorry if you have to go home this time, I waste your time." he smiles embarrassedly and uses his hand to rub the back of his neck. You can't help but chuckle too.

" it's ok, you don't have to apologize. I wanted to help you anyway." He smiles and nods at you.

" Can I ask what's your job?"

” oh I sell stuffed animals, my store is near here, the name is "Stay Kids"

"Stray kids? Why do you name your store like that?"

" cause I feel like all the stuffed animals, they are like stray kids. I made them by hand, they don't have a home or owner and I'm the one who finds an owner for them and brings happiness to people" he smiles again ...and yep your heart skipped a beat. He can make you forget all the bad things and make you feel warm inside just by his smile

"ummm....hello?" he waved his hand in front of your face. You didn't even notice you were zoned out.

"o-oh um hum....sorry just thinking about something." he nodded

" oh Han, I think I have one stuffed animal from your store that my grandma bought for me"

" oh really, I'm so happy to hear that, do you like that." he looked at you curiously with his big brown eyes... So cute. You don't know why but you blush a bit " o-of course I love that -” he cut you off because he was too excited when you said you love that stuffed animal "What animal is it?!!"

"It's a brown squirrel..."

"It has a long tail, right? With a pink nose and big black eyes right?" you nodded at him and he smiled "Oh you are lucky because I only make one squirrel and you are the one who has that"

" woah really? maybe I have to love it more than I used to" I joke and he laughs alone with you>

----------11:00pm---------

You and Han have been talk for an hour and you both didn't even notice until Han check his phone.

" oh it's very late right now i think i should go home and you you too."

" yea you right. i should go home."

" Do you want me to walk you home" you shake your head and smile at him" no thanks" he nodded understand " then becareful, i will go first bye Y/N" he wave at you while walk out of the store. wait....he know your name but haven't tell him yet how he know??

You closed the door and walk home.You keep thinking about him while walking home...you don't know how he know your name.

when you arrived home, you saw your squirrel sitting on the couch...but that weird cause you remember you put it on your bed, not the couch... But then you don't think bout it too much cause maybe you remember wrong. You took a quick bath and headed to bed. You hug your little squirrel and lay on the bed. As soon as you closed your eyes, Han smile immediately appeared in your mind. Your eyes are wide and your face turns red. You can't stop thinking about him, and then you rub your face into your squirrel and smile like a love-sick girl...well I mean yeah you are

~~~the next day~~~

You walk to school like normal, but you meet Han on the way." Oh good morning Y/N, going to school?" he waves at you and smiles. Oh, that smile again so bright. You wave back at him

" hi Han, I'm going to school. Where are you going?" you completely forgot how Han knows your name, all you can think about is how he looks today. Wearing a black oversized shirt with black and black and white trousers, silver necklace, black boots, and a black cap with glasses on the cap. His outfit looks very simple but somehow you find it attractive.

"I'm going to my store. wanna visit my store after school?"

"Okay sure but I don't know where is it-" he cut you off by putting his hand on your shoulder which made your heart skip a beat." I can come and pick you up, just tell me what time" he leaned close to you and smile.

" Y-you don't have to...but if you ok with that then thank you first. My class will end at 10.“ you got a little nervous cause he was so close to you.

He takes his hand back and chuckles softly ” Ok, see you then, have a nice school sweetheart." he says as he pats your head. at that moment you feel like you are about to explode Your cheeks turn red your heart is pounding, your hand slightly shakes, and you keep looking down at the ground cause you know if you look up at him right now you will faint immediately. A lot of questions pop up in your head "Sweetheart?! why is he calling me that?! why is he patting my head?! what does he mean and what is he planning?!"

He finally took his hand back "Ok bye be careful" You just nodded and watched him walk away. You are too flustered right now and you can't even think straight.

You walk into your class with a flustered mind. You sit down and take your book out trying to stay focused and study but you can't, you keep thinking about him, his smile, the way he put his hand on your shoulder, the way he patted your head.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you stare at the book in front of you. But the more you try to focus, the more your thoughts drift back to that moment with the stranger and his soft, warm touch. You try to push the memories aside, but they keep intruding, making it impossible for you to concentrate on your studies.

you sigh and close the book. You look outside at the window, you look at the coffee shop that you work at and also the first day you meet Han. You keep thinking about him and then realize you have fallen in love with him since the first time you met him. You immediately rushed to the restroom and washed your face.

"Y/n are you crazy, you just met him yesterday...oh fuck!" you think to yourself. You can't deny the fact that you love him just two days just by how he looks and how he acts soft and cares around you...

Well, the time has come, you walk in the hallway with your shaking hands. You feel very nervous right now, you are about to meet him, he gonna take you to his store. Now you at the school gate and you see Han is standing there leaning his back on the wall and looking around but he didn't notice you yet. You feel more nervous, you slowly walk to him and tap his arm. ” Sorry for letting you wait too long." He looks over at you and smiles while shaking his head “ No, it's ok, I came sooner anyway, is not your fault" You nodded

“Hm? Are you ok? why do you look so nervous?" he asks you and looks at you concern

"Yeah, I got a little nervous 'cause...um, I never had someone who would pick me up like you. you here to pick me up and also take me to your store to visit so yeah...but I'm ok, it's just a little nervous."

"Oh okay, I understand that. Ok let's relax from now, I will take you to my store, Ready?" you nodded and he smiled. Then he takes your hand and walks with you to his store. His hand feels so warm, you like it so you hold his hand tighter. On the way, you and he talked a lot and you told him everything without telling him anything.

know...Of course, you didn't tell him that you liked him and had been thinking about him during class

As you and Han walk hand-in-hand to his store, you can't help but feel a rush of emotions. The warmth from his hand, the sound of his voice, and the thought of spending more time with him all combine to create a feeling of excitement and joy.

As you walk, you find yourself eager to learn more about him. You ask him about his hobbies, his passions, and his life. He answers your questions honestly and excitedly. But then you find out he has one person that he is in love with but he is not sure if that girl loves him back, and you feel jealous...you know you shouldn't but you just can't control it.

He then leads you to a small, cozy store, filled with a variety of plushies. As you browse through the store, you can feel your anxiety slowly begin to fade away. The cute and cozy atmosphere of the store, combined with his presence, makes you feel at ease. You spend what feels like hours in the store, just browsing and chatting with him. You feel comfortable enough to share some personal stories with him, and he listens attentively, asking thoughtful questions and offering comforting words.

"So you have a crush on a girl, how do you feel about her?" he thinks for a moment and suddenly chuckle

"well she is a cute girl, pretty, but her life isn't beautiful like hers. She always has a bad day but I'm happy that she can talk to me about that all the time." you just nodded and didn't know what to say, you feel like you don't have a chance to love him and be with him forever but you hope he can be with that lucky girl.

”Then why don't you tell her how you feel? Maybe she will like you back..." he sighs and shakes his head

"How do I say... she just doesn't know I exist. I know it sound weird cause I have told you that always talks to me but she doesn't know about my existence.." His answer make you so confused and you wanted to ask him more about it but you were also scared so you just nodded your understanding and said nothing more.

"Anyway, I have a small gift for you, wait me a bit" He went inside and took something while you sat there looking around. The store makes you want to spend your whole life here. He put down a small box "Y/n! Here open it!!" he said excitedly and grinned like a kid, you just burned into laugh

"Hey why are you laughing" he pouts and frowns at you

"Sorry sorry- you're just too cute," you said between your laugh. He blushes at your words and looks away immediately "Just open it"

You open the small box and reveal one small set of clothes. Your eyes wide and you turn to look at him ”Are these for my squirrel?!"

”Yep of course ! do you like it, o think it will fit him well"

" THANK YOU !!! I LOVE IT SO MUCH" you are soo happy right now and you keep stare at the cloths "You this by hands?" Han nodded with a proud smile.

"Yes, I made it myself," Han replied with a sense of pride in his tone. He could see just how much his gesture meant to you, and it filled him with joy to see you so happy.

"I'm so glad you like it," he said, looking into your eyes. "I put a lot of care and attention into making this."

You couldn't contain your happiness and gratitude any longer. You leaned in and gave Han a big hug all of a sudden and didn't even realize it. He immediately froze in place, and his face slowly turned red. "o-oh n-nothing... it's just a small gift.." his voice cracked from the nervousness.

"Sorry!" you let go of him when you realize it "Sorry, did I make you feel uncomfortable?" you laugh nervously. He shook his head and finally relaxed "No I'm okay it's just a little surprised."

"I will be careful next time" he gave you a nod and he looked away trying to cover his red face.

You can't help but smile at his reaction, feeling a little bit guilty but also happy that you were able to express your happiness to him in that way

A moment later, you both stand there in silence for a few moments, with the tension in the air slowly fading away. You suddenly feel very self-conscious and awkward, realizing that your spontaneous display of affection might have been too much.

"Well, anyway," you say, breaking the silence, "I should probably get going now." You take a step back, suddenly feeling uneasy in your skin. You take your bag and the gift starts to walk towards the door, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief. As you step outside and start to leave, Han suddenly calls out to you. "Wait, wait!" You turn back to face him. "You forgot your scarf..." he took your scarf and walked toward you "Oh thank-" you got cut off because he suddenly put the scarf on for you without asking. You the butterflies in your stomach growing, and you feel restless, your heart is beating fast like it is about to pop out of your chest. You slowly look up at him and you immediately feel flustered as soon your see how close he is.

"Okay done, maybe we can meet tomorrow." he pat your shoulder and smiles at you. "Do you need me to take you home?"

"uh...n-no, i-i can go h-home by myself...you d-don't have t-to take me h-home...but thank you anyway" you gave him a quick bow and leave the store.

Han just stand and sigh, he want to say something to you but you just left.

You are on your way back home, you hold the box very tight, and with another hand, you grab your scarf and smile passionately and you keep thinking about what happened earlier with Han. You never felt this happy in your life, you want to go back but you are too shy to do that.

=========================

After you head home, you go to your room and take the clothes that Han made for your squirrel and wear them to your stuffed squirrel.

"So cute!!" you look at your squirrel with those clothes on and you smile happily then you hug it and hop on your bed. You started to talk with him again. " Squirrel you know how happy I am right now? Han made this for you, do you like it?” you pause and roll over " I think I've been in love with him since we first met...I hope I can tell him that I love him so much and want to spend my whole life with him. I want to hang out with him, want to go to eat Japanese food with him, take the bus together to the park and walk and talk with a cup of coffee in hand, want to go to the mall with him, want to ride the cable with him...uh even though I'm sacred of heights but WHO CARE?!, I just want it all! what should I do now squirrel!?" your heart is beating fast and you can feel love in side you it's growing.

You went to shower and left your stuffed squirrel on your desk. When you come out from the bathroom and you see...he is moving?! What?! the stuffed squirrel is sitting there and...take your pen and draw?! what the heck?! How the fuck?! you were sock and you dropped your towel, the water drip from your hair to the floor.

When the towel dropped, the stuffed squirrel immediately turned around and looked at you, his eyes wide, and he dropped the pen. You two stay frozen in place for a few minutes...

"S-so..you are alive this whole time?..." you ask him calmly but you are still sock as fuck, you stare at him and wait for his answer. He just nodded his head and didn't say anything. You find it cute but you also find it weird, how does a stuffed squirrel move? how can he be alive? And you lived with him your whole life and now you just find out..." you can't talk?" you slowly walk toward your desk and sit down on the chair while he is sitting on the desk staring at you. He nodded again, so now you know he can't talk. You are still very confused but you don't feel scared, instead, you feel more happy cause you know he is listening to you all the time and he can understand you. He also isn't afraid of you. You reach out your hand and pat his head, he nuzzles his head into your hand and you can tell him very like it.

"so Han created you?" you ask him and he nods. "okay then must know my grandma right?" he nods again. You were thinking and He just climbed on your hand on sat on it, and you chuckle. "oh right do you have a name? I didn't name you" he nodded and took a pen then struggled to write his name on the paper Hannie " oh that's a very cute name it's you. So from now on I will call you Hannie." you smile at him and he nods happily.

You are doing homework and Hannie just sits there and looks at you. A few moments later you suddenly groan and Hannie gets scared, " oh sorry Hannie." you sigh and he tilts his head at you "You want to know what I'm thinking?" he nods and sits close to you." ok ok I will tell you" you took a deep breath " I just can't stop thinking about Han...you know I love him right" Hanie nod quickly and his tail is wiggle around. " Ok, now you excited" you roll your eyes playfully. "do you think I should hang out with him tomorrow...cause I don't have to school or work tomorrow." Hannie took a pen and tried to write something. ( you should go out with him because I think he loves you too y/n, you don't have to bring me with you because I will stay home, I will be OK so don't worry) His handwriting is very hard to read but you try to read it. "oh...ok ok" you pause and ..." WHAT?! YOU THINK HE LOVE ME TOO?!" Hannie giggles quietly and nods "No way, you're joking.." Hannie shakes his head. " nah... Han won't love me, I'm not that pretty or special so nah nah..." Hannie just got mad you can tell by how he shake his head and crosses his tiny hand. "OK ok...don't be mad... I will try tomorrow ok?"

========

Well, the day has come, you wear a skirt and a white shirt with a tie-dye blue white and pink sweater outside, a white boots (you hope that they won't get dirty). You tie up your hair and put some light makeup on, you bring your white small bag with you.

”How do you think about my outfit Hannie?" the squirrel just nods and wiggel his tail which means he likes it. You smile at him then pat his head before you leave the house.

you arrived at his story but the nervousness stopped you from getting inside the store. You took a deep breath about to open the door but Han did it first.

" oh Y/n hi!" your breath hitched when he opened the door. Han is wearing a tie-dye sweater that matches yours and a long, loose pair of jeans with a headphone on his neck. "H-hi Han..." his outfit math makes you feel butterfly.

Han's face and ears slowly turn red when he sees you in this outfit and it matches him. " so what brings you here sweetheart?" oh god...that nickname again, it makes you nervous and your heart is pounding.

"uh...um, I just want to ask..do you have time to go out with me today?" you ask nervously and wait for his answer. Han grins " Oh y/n I was about to leave the store to ask you the same thing" You both laugh because of this situation. " What are you waiting for, let go" He looks at his store takes your hand without warning, and drags you away.

First, he brought you to the Japanese food store, and you both made the eating the Okonomiyaki. Han tries to flip it but he fails and you can't stop laughing about it.

"oh come on, why~~~" he pouts and looks at the food then looks at you when you still laughing. "hey hey stop laughing!!" you try to hold your laugh and nod " ok ok sorry "

Then he takes a piece and is about to feed you, at that moment your heart is pounding and you lean closer and want to eat it and he takes it back and eats it and laughs at you

"Haha, I tricked you!!" When he eats, the food is too hot that burns his mouth "Oh- shit! That- hot" You laugh again, he is too cute when he likes that.

Then you both take a bus, but the bus is very crowded and only has one seat left.

"There is only one seat left...I think we have to stand" You look up at him and want for him to say something but instead, Han shakes his head "No you can have that seat and I will stand next to you" Oh woah his words just melt you "it that ok for me to sit?" he just smiles and force you to sit down and he stands next to you.

You kept looking at him " Han do you need to sit we can swit-" he patted your head " Y/n I'm okay don't worry ok?" you gave you a warm smile then he took his hand back. You look down at the ground and feel very flustered and your face then your ears turn red.

when you arrived park, you and He went to the coffee shop nearby and bought two cups of coffee.

You and Han walk in the park, drinking coffee, and talking. Then you both decided to sit down at the big stairs in the park.

"I like the view right now, it's so peaceful and beautiful do you feel that?" you turn to look at him and you realize...that he was looking at you the whole time. "O-oh t-the view...yeah right it's beautiful" he looks away and laughs nervously while your face turns red again and your heart is beating fast you look down at your cup and you chuckle. Did he just look at you?! He feels the view is beautiful or me?! you take a sip of your coffee while still smiling

" Y/n you have coffee in your corner mouth.." he used his hand and whipped the coffee away. Your eyes are wide and you are frozen in place. "oh sorry.." His face turned red and he looked away

"D-do you want to go to eat something sweet?" he asks shyly and you just nod

You two went to a small cake shop ordered 2 cheesecakes, and chatted very happily.

"Y/n mine cake is very good you wanna try some?"

"Sure!' you were about to take the cake by yourself but Han already brought the fork with a piece of cake 0on it in front of you.

"Here try it, I won't trick you this time trust me!" he smiles warmly at you and you slowly take a bite and you feel the butterfly in your stomach again.

You bring him to the mall and take him to the shopping center.

"Han I come here I think this shop has some clothes that fit your style!" you drag Han into the shop.

"uhh I don't think I need any more clothes_"

" NO! I want to buy for you ..just once, please?" you pout and look at him with big doe eyes. He groans because of your cuteness "OK ok fine fine" you grin and go to choose a clothes for him.

it's been 15minuts but Han feel like it's have been 1 hour

" Don't yet..." he sighs and at the same time you pick a black jean jacket for him " I think this will suit you go and try it!" you throw the jacket on him and push him into a changing room.

About a few moments..." Y/n... what do you think?" he slowly opened the door, when you saw him in that jacket you immediately blushed "Wow...you...look very handsome...in that" you don't even know what you just said to him but he happy to hear that " oh really thank you!"

You and he decided to end the "date" by riding the cable car. He bought a ticket for you ” Here, your ticket" When you both get on the cable, you get nervous and scared because you have a fear of heights. You kept looking around while the cable slowly rose. Han notices "Y/n are you okay?" you look at him with concerned eyes, you don't know how to tell him so you just shake your head but he quickly finds out that you are afraid of heights. " Y/n stop looking around...look at me “ He holds your hands tight and makes you look at him... "Y/n I'm here you will be ok...why don't you tell me that you are scared of heights?" he asks you while stoking your hands to comfort you. You took a deep breath " I-I just want to enjoy this with you so I didn't want to tell you...sorry" he patted your head making you flutter "It's ok, don't be sorry." he smiled at you, and that makes you feel better.

He suddenly smirks and looks at you. "Y/n, I can make you feel better but you need to return me something" you nod "So what do you want" You hold on your bad tight because you are shaking.

Han giggled " It is very simple..." he paused and that made you more curious and nervous " Just give me a kiss here," He said as he pointed at his cheek. You blush immediately and are speechless. He chuckles "You don't want to sit here and be scared until wearrived right?... come! just a peck" he pouts and looks at you with his puppy eyes "Please ~~" You sigh shyly and just give a quick pec on his cheek and pull away. Even though it's just a peck he likes it and now he is grinning like a kid.

"Y/n look at me..." He made a funny face and you can't help but laugh. He looks out the view and points anywhere he finds it beautiful and talks to you all the trip. He makes you feel better and you completely forget that you are scared of heights.

After a long "date" Han and you walk back to your home, but he says he has to go back to his store to check on something when you ask him to let you come with him, he refuses.

Now you are walking home feeling happy but also sad because you can't be with him at his store.

=========================

You finally arrive at your home, you open the door and you see Hannie sitting on the table writing something. You walk toward him and sit on the couch "What are you writing Hannie?" You tilt your head. He reaches his tiny hand out to tell you to wait so you take your phone out and watch while waiting for him.

A moment later Hannie tapped your hand and you put down your phone. He struggles to hold the paper and leans the paper against the plant pot. "You want me to read this?" Hannie nodded and he carefully walked off the table, you want to ask him where is he going but he can't talk anyway so how could he answer you?

You noticed that Hannie's handwriting became very good all of a sudden, read it out loud Y/n, I have been with you since you were still a young little girl, I know you very well but you don't know anything about me but it's okay. Every time you cry, you are upset or you happy...I know but I can't do anything, I can't comfort you when you need it...I can't laugh with you when you are happy, I can't celebrate with you when you have a high point... You stop your track and your eyes begin to water You know...I have fallen for you...I feel very stupid, how can I fall in love with my owner, I keep telling myself to not fall for you but...I still love you very much. Y/n...what I'm gonna tell you right now might shock you but...I hope you will be OK with that...when your grandma came to the store and told you to buy me a gift, she said "Can you be my little Y/n friend? I want you to be friends with her, not your magic... I don't want you to turn a stuffed animal into her friend. I want you, I trust you" Your grandma trusts Han very much so he can't refuse it... You pause and think for a moment, you start to realize something but you are not sure about it. Y/n... I'm not just a stuffed squirrel called Hannie...I have a big heart and that big heart has already been given to you, I love you, do you love me?... If you do... please turn around _Han Jisung_ as soon as you realize you immediately turn around and Han's arms already wrap around you and give you a warm hug. His eyes are tearing, he hugs you tight and leans his head on your shoulder "Y/n...I'm sorry for keeping this secret from you...I want to tell you when we were going out...but I'm scared...I'm scared that I will lose you" You tear up when you hear his words "S-so...what Hannie said this morning is was you...Hannie said that you will love me back and that was you" Han thought that he fuck up, and he pull away from the hug "yea... I planned it all. I'm sor-" you cut him off by kissing his lips. Han's eyes are wide and his face is red. You pull away from this kiss and hug him again

“ Han...i love you" He let out a sigh and a smile then h stoke your hair

"Y/n i love you so much...i won't leave you"

#skz han #han jisung x reader #han jisung fluff #han x reader #han jisung #han #han jisung imagines #jisung x reader

[r00m-w1th-n0-d00r]

I want to die, but I think what's even worse is that I also want to live.

I've wanted to die since I was 12. That's when I realized what childhood had done to me, when I lost everything, when shit really hit the fan. I was only 12. I was still a child, and I still fear the consequences of death more then anything. I stayed up late, existential thoughts eating away at me as I pondered what would come afterwards. That thought alone scared away any ideas I had.

When I was 16 I told myself I was gonna do it. To hell with being scared of what comes after life when I was living an irl nightmare. Each day was the same, I didnt see a single living soul outside of my immediate family for almost a year and a half. Things that brought me joy slowly started to become obsolete. Yet, when I went to do it, I found I still fucking couldn't. I was still too scared. There was still that fear of missing out on life.

Now I'm 18. Closer to 19 at this point. And I still want to die. The urge to take my own life now is a constant flame burning in the back of my mind, everytime something goes wrong or I become even slightly stressed out I feel the flames rise. I've carried all this weight around for so many years, but now I'm no longer a child and now I know nobody will sit here and wait for me to figure shit out. I cant keep calling out of work because I had a breakdown, I cant keep ignoring friends and shoving myself into a new game or show to distract from it. I want to die, and now I no longer fear what's on the other side. If what's on the other side is nothing, then so be it. Maybe then I'll finally be at peace.

But like I said. I want to die, but even worse, I want to find a reason to live. Because there are things that I love. I love video games, and writing, and hiking, and riding my bike, and making my friends laugh, and drinking warm coffee, and eating sweet bread, and seeing my family, and laying in the grass, and watching the sun rise, and feeling the rain on my skin, and listening to the thunder, and watching the snow fall, and swimming in the river, and going to concerts. I love so many things, and I want to find that joy that blinded me when I was young again. I want a reason to keep living, so that i can enjoy all the things I love. I want to put out that burning idea of death in my brain and I want to smile and be someone who's fucking happy.

This depression has ruined my life. So many things I love, but cant find the joy in? Why? That question alone makes that burning idea of death rise, and engulfs my thoughts even more. It's a loop. A constant battle between life and death that I didnt sign up for. And I know that sometime soon one side will win, and the odds are all in favor of death.

I hope that life can make a comeback soon.

#su1c1d3 #su1c1dal #su1cidal thoughts #self destruction #d3pression #s3lfharmm #tw depressing thoughts #tw depressive #tw sucidal ideation #tw sui vent

[tracksidequeen]

Fading Smiles to Burning Love

Summary: Toto, the eye capturing unapproachable guy. You, a girl too busy to even think you could ever cross someone else's mind. What connects you? One dream, one passion; one offer changing your life. The truth has a way of unraveling in ways you could’ve never expected.

Pairing: YoungToto!RacingInstructor x Reader

Words: 3.2K

*****

“Marcus, hurry up we’re already late!” you shout without any affect. “Calm down, calm down. Jeez!” At his own pace he undoes his seatbelt, straightens his coat and opens the car-door. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” With one leg out of the car he looks back at you with a confused look on his face, and slowly slides back in.

“Thank you sis,” he mumbles awkwardly and he pats your leg.

“No, idiot! Your backpack!”

You turn in your seat to grab it from the backseat and mutter under your breath. “Here,” you shove it in his hands. “Now go, I’ll try to find a parking-space.”

Marcus hops out of the car and puts on his backpack which was filled with his racing gear, the size of it so out of proportion with his height. He turns around with a sour face, but nonetheless waves you goodbye as he enters the racetrack-facility. As much as you hate him, you love him double that amount; not that you’d ever tell him that.

With your parents working abroad half the time, you going to college and Marcus being taken care of by his au-pair, you try as much as you can to be there for him. To stand by his side with the things that make him happy. To cheer him on in his passions. To make him feel like he has somewhat of a family. Even if that means spending the weekends at the racetrack, while your friends are out partying. Yet you wouldn’t change it for the world.

‘Lechner Racing School, where the good become legendary’ reads the sign above the canteen-entrance as you enter it to grab yourself a drink before you dare to take on the summer heat - sitting outside in the burning sun on a boiling plastic seat is not one of your many joys in life. “Two bottles of Ice tea please, and a kilo of ice while you’re at it,” you joke at Lex whose been tending the bar since forever, and has seen many young talents come and go. “I’ll keep the ice coming!” he says as he grabs the bottles from the fridge. “No don’t bother, I’ll be outside watching him.” The wrinkles of the forty-something year old become prominent after your remark when his head pops up from behind the bar. “In that heat?! Dear, that’s not healthy!” You shrug your shoulder, “I know it makes him happy seeing me up there in the stands and I like seeing him in his element.”

“He’s is a rocket, that boy,” he says with an exuberant smile while turning around. “Here, at least wear this.” He places the team-cap on your head and hands you the drinks. “Have fun out there and just give me a call if you need more drinks, I’ll bring them up.” “Thanks, Lex!” He waves you off, “anything for our VIP’s.”

The sound of roaring engines in the background, the smell of tarmac and burning rubber in the scorching sun, the instructor shouting over the noise, it feels like home. One way or another. Up until now it is the one thing you and Marcus have truly bonded over. For hours on end you hear his stories, and you’d ask him questions, which would result in more stories. About how he overtook someone, how his instructor thought him a technique to break later than the rest, about how nasty someone was driving but he still had the upper-hand. They could never bore you, and the smile it put on his face was invaluable. A smile you remember you used to have, until life came crashing down.

There he is! All suited up he walks up to his go-kart and follows the lead of his instructor. He hops in, closes his visor, and you know it’s go-time. It’s practice, not even a race; it’s him not even you; yet you feel jitters in your stomach. Every time he goes on track there is pride and fear battling inside you. You know there’s risk involved, and some might call you crazy for supporting a 12 year old in motorsport - your parents at least have - but you vouched for it, standing behind Marcus’ passion. Yet anytime you see him enter the track you’re not so sure if you made the right call. But then he flies off into the distance and you know there’s a reason for everything.

“I don’t understand how those kids survive in that heat! Damn, I know I can’t.” Claudia, the mother of one of Marcus’ teammates, takes a seat next to you and offers you a drink. “No thanks, already got some.” “Smart. They really need it out there though. Poor kids” They’ve been driving around doing practice-starts for the past 15 minutes and in the meantime the wind has settled, leaving behind a humid, thick heat. Now imagine sitting in one of those karts with the fired-up engines. Claudia slaps her thighs with both hands, “this is not good, I’m going to-” “Look they’re being called back,” you interrupt her the moment she wants to stand up.

“EY, goddammit, watch it, you know the rules when entering the pit!” A thick Austrian accent echoes over the roaring engines as he nearly watches a collision before his eyes and your eyes capture the moment at the intesity of his scream. The karts stop and he immediately walks over the driver. “That was unnecessary and fucking dangerous, get up,” he says firmly while slightly grabbing the shoulder of the boy’s racing suit. The boy does as he’s said, he gets up in his sticky race suit and that’s when you notice it was Marcus being scolded. “Adamos, this is the last time it happens, okay? Everyone is slowing down and you’re just ramming through. For what?- Open you visor when I’m speaking to you!” Marcus does as he’s told and apologises politely without any word of resistance. “Good,” he turns to the rest. “Everyone go change, we’ll do some track-walks. And don’t forget your water!”

As the boys waddle off he checks his phone, and looks up at the stand where you were sitting with all the parents. With a bounce in his step he walks over to the stand, his long brown hair sticking to his forehead, and his once light grey shirt now completely soaked in sweat. Clumsy he climbs onto the metal bars and leans over it to be in speaking-range. “Toto, what’s the plan? I’m not spending my entire salary on them just playing around.” A charming smile appears on his face, “no worries mister Müller, I’m simply going to throw some things around, but still make it useful. Going to do some track-walks and explain race-line strategies.” “Okay then-” “So no money lost on me, sir!” “That’s how I like to hear it.”

He jumps off the metal bars to leave but before he does so he turns around, “Oh and Miss Adamos,” he says with a finger pointing at you, capturing your attention. “I’d like to have a word after the session is done, if you don’t mind?” His soft brown eyes were a stark contrast to the sharp features of his face, and the lingering eye contact felt like an eternity, until the moment you realised he asked you a question. “Yes-yes, no worries at all,” you stutter and you feel yourself melt away of embarrassment on the overheating blue seat.

The boys return with screeches of laughter as one of the guys made a stupid remark back in the changing room. “C’mon boys, allons-y!” Toto claps his hands together for them to put a higher pace in their walks, but with the high temperatures he’s not getting much out of them. From afar you see him shake his head and just decide to walk ahead of the pack until they catch up on track. Suddenly Marcus runs towards Toto and yanks at his arm making Toto lean down so he can hear him, and they start talking for a good minute until the rest catches up. He looks up at you from a distance, and simply nods his head ‘yes’ at you.

The parents that surround you have a gift of making every little thing seem so big. Everything they can find, they’ll nag and nitpick about. About the way their kids race, about the way they’re thought, about their jobs, about each others’ jobs. Can’t they just sit here is peace, watch their child, and realise they are providing them the gift of their dreams. They should be grateful, thankful, and proud of being able to put their kid in such a fortunate position. They remind them so much of your own parents, always complaining about everything, about your life decisions, about Marcus’ hobbies. And every time you say ‘but just watch him race, you’ll think totally different about it.’ Yet they never have. They continue to throw money at him though, probably to buy his love, yet they never seem to have even an ounce of care in their bodies.

They walked a full lap around the track, as you see the pack re-appear around the corner. Toto shirtless by now because of the heat, exposing his toned muscles under his glistening skin making him look like a sculpted Greek god. He’s pointing and waving his arms as he’s explaining something which the boys listen to attentively. With his shirt dangling in the back pocket of his shorts he tells the boys training is done, and to get a soda on the house, “you boys really deserve it after today! Now go - Go!”

The kids run inside to their parents, who gave up and went inside minutes after the track-walk started, making you the only one sitting outside without realising it. You were too lost in your thoughts.

“Catch!”

Your eyes jump up as you see a bottle flash before your eyes and hits  your shoulder. “Shit sorry, didn’t mean for that to happen!” A giant of a man walks up to you nonchalantly, blocking the sun with his naked torso. “What did you expect,” you laugh as you grab the bottle of water off the floor. He looks at you with a sarcastic face, “well, that you’d catch.”

Toto took a seat beside you, nearly burning his leg and his back on the hot plastic. “Well, now we know one thing for sure, the racing-gene was not passed on to you,” he jokes, but you just stare at him. “I mean, you have to have good reflexes- as a racing driver- and you didn’t- you know what, never mind.”

“First you throw a bottle at me, and then you call my reflexes insufficient, you must really hit it off good with the ladies.” He cheeks turn slightly red, and shakes his head with a laugh at your remark. “Trust me, I’m A-mazing with the ladies.” There’s a hint of sarcasm in his voice, but it can be mistaken for cockiness as a smug smile appears on his face and he winks at you.

“Oookay.. What’s up,” you say to quickly change the subject. “Is it about Marcus’ behaviour earlier, I can talk to him about that-” “No, no, it’s not that, actually the opposite.” He looks at you with a grin on his face, his brown eyes glint in the sun and you notice the razor burn on his clenching jaw. “Marcus is a great guy, and an even greater driver; I truly think he’ll make it far. And I want to do anything in my power to help him progress.” The cockiness and smug attitude he carried just moments ago was replaced with sincerity.

“What do you mean?”

He looks at you, with one eye closed squinting in the sun, “you wanna go inside? It’s getting a bit unbearable out here.”

You took his lead and followed him down the stairs. All the while you stare enchanted at the dancing muscles in his back with every movement he makes. His slightly slanted shoulders, wondering what happened to them. An accident? A fight? The droplets forming on his his back, making their way down, shimmering and shining on his tanned body. He looked nothing like the other 22 year olds you were surrounded by in college. There was something so strong and powerful, yet so caring and respectful about him. Maybe this is what your mother meant when she said you needed to find a true gentleman.

After putting his shirt back on Toto sat you down in the canteen and continued his conversation with in the background talking parents and the shouts and laughter from the boys. “Look, what I meant was that I think he has a lot of potential, and that we’re not getting everything out of him with only two trainings a week.” You look at him confused, “so, he needs more training?”

“Well- more training means a team promotion- and before you say anything, what you saw today, with the little incident, that’s all because he needs more of a challenge and he tries to find it in anything. Sometimes he just picks the wrong places. But I know he can-” “Okay, yea, I’m in... if that’s what he wants.” His eyes light up with delight, “amazing! The thing is though, I’ve only ever seen you here, and you know that for any promotions there need to be given consent from a guardian since he’s under-aged. Do you think your parents will give it?”

Of course your parents won’t give it, given how hard it was half a year ago when another instructor offered the same deal. More training, more money, more hours driving him to practice, more expensive gear, more danger and risk. You shake your head ‘no.’ “You have to understand the things he can accomplish-” “No, Toto, you don’t understand, our parents-”

*BOOO*

All the hairs in your neck stand up from the jump-scare and you fling you hand back to slap Marcus, but he’s too quick. “Stan told me to do it!!” he giggles as he runs back to his friends. “Asshole,” you mutter under your breath and you look back at Toto who’s chuckling under his breath. “Ugh guys and their weird sense of humor.” He laughs, “having a brother must be fun.” “Yea, so- much- fun,” you say with a petty smile.

“You were trying to say something about your parents before Marcus came.” He looks at you inquisitively. “Yes, no, no worries, I’ll talk to them, see if we can work something out.” You pushed that sentence out of your system with difficulty because you know how difficult it will be. Communicating this, getting this across to them. And as if Toto can read your mind, “you know, if you need help with anything- the strategy we have for him, school assistance, financial aid- I’m glad to help. I truly mean that.”

“You really care about him, don’t you?” A slight smile forms on his face, “yes, he’s a special one, I just want to see him succeed and not waste his potential.” It’s odd realising how good of a relationship Marcus and Toto have. The countless stories you heard about Toto teaching him this, Toto telling him off about that, Toto jokes this and that, an endless cycle; yet this is the first time you actually had a proper conversation with him. After practice or during the social events he always seems so to himself, with the capability of seeming isolated in a group of twenty people, yet carrying the charisma that people were honoured when he did speak to them.

“It just reminds me of my sister and I,” he says after a long silence which you filled up by drinking the glass of water Lex gave you. “What does?” you ask him. “You and Marcus.” He looks down at his hands on the table, which were fiddling with a sugar-package. “The way you show up for him, how you let him have the experiences in life that you never had. It can be difficult. I know that firsthand, and it feels unfair most times. But then you see the smile on their face when they succeed at what they love, because you were there helping them along the way. That smile makes it all worth it.”

He looks up at you after he finished talking, as if trying to hide the fact that he just opened up to you. But his eye contact felt so personal, as if he could read your mind and you look away time. “I just hope his smile never fades like mine did,” you say softly. “Come on now, I know yours didn’t fade,” he replies with a disagreeing tone. “You just started seeing the world for what it is, but trust me that smile will return.” A cheerful smile paints his face trying to not let the mood down, and somehow it works. “How are you so sure?” you ask him challenging, and he lifts his chin with pride. “My mom told me, smiles always come back.”

“Your mom told you?” you repeat. “Yea, and she Never lies,” he says factually, yet sounding like a 5 year old boy trying to prove a point. “Such a dork,” you laugh. He slaps the table and points his finger at you. “A-HA see there’s a smile! I knew it!”

“Toto likes a gi-irl, Toto likes a gi-irl!” The boys sing in unison interrupting your conversation and you see Lex secretly enjoying the public humiliation they are inflicting on you and Toto. “Okay, okay that’s enough guys, nothing to see here.” Toto stands up from the table and walks over to the guys joking with them that they secretly have a crush on you. “Yikes no! Absolutely not.” The moment Toto then accused them of having a girlfriend brought up a whole other shouting match with their denial. Marcus pulling at Toto’s arm as he was picking at him, saying how he’ll ask you about all Marcus’ secrets.

The way Marcus was laughing with ease made your heart warm, the innocence he carried with him, and the lust for life and curiosity. At some moments it felt like you were living through him.

“Come on, let’s go Marcus,” you say as you walk up to the group minutes later. “Nooo we’re all playing a game, I can’t leave now.” A sigh leaves your mouth, “Marcus c’mon, don’t start now please. I have to go, I also have a life.” “Fine, then go, but don’t ruin mine,” he shouts without a filter. Tears prickle in the back of your eyes out of frustration, because even though he doesn’t know the meaning of his words, and he probably doesn’t mean it, they do hurt. How could you be ruining his life when you gave up half of yours for him.

“Marcus please, just-” “if you want I can also drive him back later today, just tell me where and at what time,” Toto said hesitantly as to not overrule your authority in the situation. Even in the moment he was trying to help he was doing everything in his power to be considerate. “Yess, see Toto will drive me home!” Marcus says joyful. After some arguing back and forth you cave in and exchange numbers with Toto so he can contact you if anything happens.

“Okay, bye Marcus!” you wave him goodbye. “Yea, yea.” He runs off without acknowledging you. Toto looks at you with a soft smile and a tilted head, “bye, see you later.”

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I know it wasn’t filled with a lot of plot, but I’m just setting the scene and dabbling into the whole young Toto vibe. I hope you liked it nonetheless. Let me know if you want more <3 Feedback is always helpful, especially after having been away for such a long time (don’t come for me hahah)

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TagSquad: @ricciardosheart @wetforwolff @panic-on-the-disco @black-repunzel99 @totowlff @f1thirsttraps @totostanxxx @tony-stank3 @fxshernoizu @sunsetwolffs @smoothoperator55 @mysticalnightenthusiast @oliviahoneymoon @purplewis44 @vroom-vroom-bitch @dr3-fangirl @the-lazy-leprechaun @nomnomnibblenibble @laura-naruto-fan1998​ @lilozg-123​ @lewisdidthat​ @thicc-matthews34​ @orchestratedemotion​ @intotowetrust​ @totonator555​ @pandasansoni93​ @totosbitch​ @totoscharm​ @formationlapsz​ @fede18​ @fuckyeahhangman​ @oneafterdark​ @misswolff​ @wetforwolff​ @eclairfromleclerc​  

#Toto Wolff #toto wolff fic #toto wolff x reader #Toto Wolff x you #driver x reader #driver x you #F1 #Mercedes F1

[korrasamibottles]

Long tag game!! Thanks @nova-leaf @lilrobinbird for tagging me💖

How many tumblr accounts have you had before this one?

Just one! I made it in 2012 to look at Walking Dead and Supernatural gifs and eventually it just turned into a personal blog. I met two of my best friends there!! Unfortunately I'm locked out of it for now because I decided to be a responsible internet enjoyer and changed all my passwords and I uhh. I can't remember what I changed it to. And the email I used to sign up 12 years ago is long dead. So that blog might be gone forever. Life is a highway I'm gonna ride it all night long etc. etc.

How long have you been in fandom?

I had really intense Supernatural and MCU phases back in the day, and binged TLOK and ATLA in 2015 after the Korra finale (I watched Korra first and then atla, and I maintain that's the best way to do it😌) but I never really participated in the fandom, like I never talked to anyone or made anything. So I'm gonna say I've been in fandom since summer 2023 when I made this blog to post my tlok fic (couldn't post it on my old one. My face is/was all over it. You understand.) Everyone I've interacted with here is like. Shockingly nice. Idk why I expected to be beaten with hammers but umm it didn't happen so thank you all for that💖

Your favorite trope in fiction?

AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED!!!!! Also rivals coming together to fight a common enemy and then maybe coming together in a different way.....? That's good too.

Your favorite random fact?

There are vast, delicate fungal networks in the earth beneath our feet right now as we speak :) They wrap around tree roots and spread far and wide, connecting multiple trees with each other and allowing them to share water and nutrients. This is especially helpful for saplings, which often aren't able to get enough sunlight to make their own sugars. The fungal network helps ensure the survival of young trees, and in exchange it gets a share in the nutrients being passed between the trees!!!

Your favourite game or kind of game?

Saw trap.

A place you’d like to visit? (If carbon emissions, logistics and money weren’t in question)

Oh god literally anywhere. I want to get marinated in every culture and environment I think that would blow my mind in the best way. I do want to make it to Italy specifically at some point in my life because apparently I have cousins there? But then again what if they're weird and I don't actually want to meet them.....

An animal you’re irrationally afraid of?

I can't really think of any? As a kid I was terrified of big dogs, but that fear is like 99% gone now. Sometimes other people have their dogs off leash in the woods and I gotta say. I Do Not Like It when they come running up snarling barking jumping with their hair raised at me. But the vast majority of dogs are I encounter are nice, and when they aren't I just try to ignore them and keep walking lol.

What’s your favourite season?

Autumn 10000% and then winter. Then spring. Then summer. I hate being hot.

A smell that brings you nice memories?

So maybe this is weird but I really like the way horses smell? I was a farm girl growing up and always loved horses....a horse bit the top of my head once...a different horse broke my arm......still love them.

(If you’re ok talking about food. If not, delete this part) What’s your favorite food from where you were born? And what’s your favorite food from some place else?

My mom's Italian so it was all pasta all the time growing up...lasagna😭 Also chicken cacciatore but the pasta isn't the main event there. But yeah. Pasta tomato garlic basil.....I'm there babiee.

I'm also obsessed with Indian food and there's a place near me that has a vegetable korma that makes me cry.

What’s your favorite drink (if you drink alcohol, alcoholic and non-alcoholic)?

I don't drink alcohol anymore but I loooooooved rum & coke. Also hard cider.

As for regular drinks. I am 75% fruit juice by volume at all times.

Do you give your pets random table scraps?

My cat is a huge freak who turns her nose up at human food like she's literally too good for it. Sometimes I'll offer her a piece of cheese and she'll lick it, but that's it.

I don't know who has and hasn't been tagged already so if you want to do this. Do it🫵

[frostfairysteve]

so i cannot turn off my brain and i'm gonna ride this thought out—

Marilyn Harrington is 14 years old and a freshman. She knows Tommy and Carol from middle school; the three of them are a tight-knit group.

Tommy turns 15 the week after Halloween. He invites as many people as possible; his parents let him have the house to himself, and he has a cousin willing to buy them liquor. It's the biggest party Marilyn has been to; she opted out of going to the Halloween party a sophomore had invited her to so that she could go trick-or-treating. Tommy and Carol had made fun of her for it, and they think she has to make up for it now.

Marilyn doesn't know what she has to drink or how much, but she's with Tommy and Carol, and they're dancing, and it's fun. But then they lose Carol in the crowd and Tommy is bringing her to his bedroom.

She's had too much to fully understand what's going on, but Tommy is on top of her, telling her that he likes her more than Carol. It hurts. Marilyn is crying, would scream if he wasn't keeping a hand over her mouth, would fight him off if she was stronger.

Marilyn stumbles out of Tommy's bedroom ten minutes later; it had been quick, but her clothes aren't on her properly, and everything's spinning, and she feels sick.

A sophomore ends up guiding her to the kitchen and getting her water. It takes Marilyn a moment to recognise Eddie Munson; she doubts he was invited, based on what Tommy has to say about him. Or maybe he was invited to sell. Or by someone else. She doesn't recognise most people at the party.

Eddie's kind; waits for consent before helping her correct her clothes, and holds her hair back when she throws up in the sink. Serves Tommy right to have to clean that up.

In the end, Eddie gives her a ride home.

Marilyn shows up at school that Monday, unable to look at Tommy. She flinches away when he tries to wrap an arm around her shoulders. She doesn't know if she should tell Carol what had happened at the party; Carol's in love with Tommy, and even if they're friends, she has a tendency to be mean. She decides not to, for now. Instead, she tries to find Eddie to thank him, and to have a reason to avoid Tommy. But she's not brave enough to do more than give Eddie a nod and a smile when she finds him; he's with friends, and she doesn't want to interrupt. It doesn't help that it feels like everyone are staring at her, as if they know what happened.

Marilyn tries to move on. To forget. She had a lot to drink, maybe her memories are unreliable. But when two months pass without her period, she does tell Carol. (Marilyn has been regular since she got her period at 12½ years old. Something has to be wrong for her to miss it.)

Carol doesn't want to believe that Tommy would have done something like that, but she does believe her, and comes with as emotional support when Marilyn tells her mum.

Shirley Harrington believes her immediately, and is horrified. (Shirley was not many years older when she got pregnant; she doesn't want Marilyn to have to go through that.)

Abortion comes up, but Marilyn doesn't want that. She's always wanted to grow up and have a family; she's not going to get rid of her child just because she's too young. So instead, her mum pulls her out of school. They agree to not tell her dad the true reason she's going to get homeschooled; he should be away on business for most of the pregnancy.

Marilyn is five months pregnant on her 15th birthday. She celebrate with her mum and Carol; hasn't seen Tommy since she stopped going to school. Hasn't told him about having a kid. She gives birth to a boy mid-July; he's born too early, and oh so small.

Shirley stays home with Edmund so that she can go back to school. Marilyn can admit that when she tried to think of a good name for a boy, only the name of the one that helped her that night came to mind. She decided against Edward to not be too obvious, although calling her son Eddie still makes Carol raise an eyebrow at her.

Marilyn Harrington is 15 years old and a sophomore. She has a baby named Edmund and her only friend is Carol.

There are two freshman girls that they end up befriending; Nancy and Barb. But neither Marilyn or Carol ever mention Eddie around them. Well, not Eddie Harrington. They do talk about Eddie Munson; Marilyn can admit that she has a crush. But nothing will come of it; she needs to focus on her studies.

But by so often studying with Nancy and Barb, Marilyn feels herself falling for Nancy. And by the time she starts junior year, she feels bad about being so close to the girls but keeping her son from them.

John Harrington had thrown a fit when he found out about his grandson, but since Marilyn's pregnancy had been kept under wraps, everyone assumes it was Shirley that had been pregnant. With no scandal, he can simply pretend that he has a son. But it doesn't make him any more interested in staying home. He does get a few days at home in every month, or a week every other month, but he does need to be travelling a lot. And usually its okay for his wife to stay behind; especially with her having a new child as an excuse. Only thing is, Shirley hasn't been seen with him in almost two years now, so he convinces his wife to come with him on his next business trip.

Edmund is 15 months old, so they hire a nanny for the days, and Marilyn can take care of him in the evenings. She's the one who chose to risk bringing shame on the Harringtons by having a child so she can take care of him, according to John.

Marilyn doesn't want to be home alone as a 16 year old single mum, especially not with Will Byers just having gone missing, and she wants Nancy and Barb to meet Edmund. Especially since she and Nancy have been getting close.

The small party is awkward; Marilyn has been keeping a secret their whole friendship. But they cook dinner together, and sit outside by the pool since it's a nice night. Edmund has been put to bed a bit ago, but he wakes up crying. Barb drops her glass at the sudden sound, and cuts her hand when she goes to pick up the pieces. Marilyn gives directions to the bathroom as she goes inside to her son, Nancy following her since she has experience with Holly. Carol takes over getting rid of the glass.

Marilyn and Nancy end up staying in her bedroom once Edmund has gone back to sleep; first talking, then kissing. Then a bit more than kissing but Marilyn puts a stop to it; it didn't feel right for her, not with her son right there.

They go back down to find that Carol has gone to bed in Shirley's room, but Barb isn't there. They're both worried, but maybe she just went home.

November 9. Barb doesn't show up to school but Marilyn can't help looking since she has a son to get home to. Carol hasn't dropped Tommy and so is hanging with him. She's the one who destroys Jonathan's camera; he got a picture of Marilyn holding Edmund, and one of Marilyn and Nancy kissing. She can't have anyone see that, especially not Tommy.

Except Tommy saves the torn up picture of Marilyn and Nancy. He's still angry that Marilyn started avoiding him.

November 10. Marilyn is also worried about Barb, so she encourages Nancy to go to the police. Her dad is unhappy that she let more people know the truth, but that's all.

November 11. Marilyn has gotten Carol to agree to babysit, so she goes to Nancy's just to check up on her, suggests they go see a movie to take their mind off Barb. Accepts that's not what Nancy needs right now and leaves.

Shirley comes back home that evening, so Marilyn is gonna treat Carol to milkshakes as thanks for looking after Edmund, but they stop by Nancy's first since Marilyn wants to check in on her. She does draw conclusions when she sees Jonathan, but maybe Nancy isn't actually into girls. It's fine.

It's not fine; Carol mentions Jonathan to Tommy the next day and he paints the marquee. Marilyn isn't there; Tommy gets into a fight but by calling Nancy a queer, having the picture as evidence. Jonathan is the one to hit Tommy. Carol calls Marilyn later, and Marilyn tells Carol to choose between her and Tommy. Carol choses Tommy, Marilyn decides to make things right so she still drives into town to clean the marquee and then goes looking for Jonathan and Nancy to apologise for her former friends.

Which is how Marilyn faces down a demogorgon and in the life and death situation realises that she's not a she, and never has been, and what felt wrong with Nancy was that they were both girls.

He uses the government hush money to look into transitioning; obviously he needs to talk about this with someone first. But it's always been there, it's just that he became a parent very young and didn't have time to think about his life until he was close to death.

Steve Harrington is 17 years old and a senior. He has a two year old son, and a shaky relationship with Nancy Wheeler. And all he wants is to get back to normal so that he can graduate and find a job; it's a wonder that his dad hasn't thrown him out considering. Steve has his mum to thank for that; Shirley Harrington has been his biggest support throughout everything. And Edmund, but his Eddie is too young to really know what's going on.

#steve harrington #ftm steve harrington #my thoughts collection #hi i don't know! #this could be something maybe #steve in season 4 being so flustered around eddie munson. dustin knowing the truth about edmund and teasing the shit out if steve. #dustin learnt the truth about edmund and never tried getting steve and robin together #instead he started high school already planning to get steve and eddie together like the meddling brother he is #steve's eddies #oc: shirley harrington

[fandomregression]

I saw the flip!Ash post and little!Gary has my heart <3 please share your headcannons of him 🥺

when i say that gary is my favorite character ever in all media i mean it. with that in mind, pls enjoy some headcanons ajsldkfjashljg

Regressor Gary Oak Headcanons

gary learns about regression pretty young. he learned what it was when he was about 11-12, and he only learned bc he was apprenticing with prof rowan and one of the other apprentices (lucas maybe?? pls pokemon gimme the boy in the anime) regressed sometimes

for a couple years, gary doesn't really think about it. he doesn't try to regress, try to do anything regression-like

then he has a Super stressful year apprenticing in kalos, and one night he's in his room crying because the power went out and he lost his research progress on his computer

umbreon is beside him at the time, and she does her best to calm him down. she crawls on his lap and nuzzles his cheeks, puts her paws up on his shoulders, basically hugging him. eventually, gary stops crying, and he's just trying to get his breath back. umbreon drags over a pillow for him to squeeze, and he hugs it super-super tight until he finally feels better

after a little (haha) rest, he starts his computer back up and manages to recover most of his work. he saves it and closes docs, pulling up the pokemon equivalent to netflix. he starts a cartoon he and ash used to watch all the time as kids, and just lets himself get absorbed in the adventures of clefairy and all her friends

gary doesn't regress again for a few months. he doesn't even really consider what happened that night to be regression. the second time, though, he throws a fit and ends up battling some jerk that was making fun of him and research partners (blastoise and electivire are a lil suspish about fighting when their trainer sounds like a fussy toddler, but they do as he says anyway)(and after the battle, blastoise makes him sit down and eat a snack and drink some juice until he calms down)

once again, gary doesn't consider this regression. he is not regressing

the third time gary regresses, he does have to accept that it was actually regression. it's kind of hard to deny it when he jumped all over his room because he was getting pancakes for dinner. he put on fuzzy pjs (backwards oopsie) and fuzzy socks, and when he scooted across the floor to build up static electricity, he started calling himself elekid

over time, gary ends up getting quite a few plushies that he hides in his closet (with the door cracked open so they can breathe ofc). he gets a plush eevee first, and a squirtle and elekid, then he gets plushies of the rest of his team, and then he starts getting plushies of ash's team(s). he names every single one, too, and he makes lil profiles for each of them, with fake dex entries, in a little notebook

when gary starts getting more comfortable with his regression, he starts getting more obvious gear. the first thing he ever gets is a sippy cup. it's covered in super cute miltank illustrations, and it has a flip-top so it's not too obvious that it's a sippy cup

after he gets his cup, he gets a pacifier and a teether...and he maybe starts sleeping with the pacifier. shhhh...

after those, he gets some toddler toys, but he tries to get tiny ones so he can hide them better. he really, really doesn't want the professor to find out abt his regression because that's embarrassing and it might get back to his grandpa

gary's pokemon do their best to take care of him and keep him out of trouble, but even sometimes they have to encourage him to go steal some cookies >.>

really they don't do a good job of holding him accountable, so when ash finally learns abt gary's regression, he's a total brat and he gets so many disappointed sighs

gary's nicknames are pretty simple, just gare and gare-bear

he calls ash just ashy, but it usually comes out more like "ashyyyy-uh!"

he learns very quickly that he can bribe pikachu to take his side with the promise of ketchup. this does not bode well for ash

professor oak and tracey do eventually find out abt gary's regression, and they're very accepting. tracey and gary will hang out in the field and draw pokemon together. professor oak just treats him the same as he did when gary was growing up, and it seems to make him rlly happy

i'm gonna stop here ajsdlfkahglakdjfh gary is so good i love him so much ;-;

#fandom agere #sfw agere #age regression #pokemon agere #pkmn agere #agere gary oak #🧸headcanons

[vulpes-fennec]

Happy Day 5 (Feelings Realization) of @sjmromanceweek!!!

Pairing’s mentioned: Itharion, Chaorian, Jassa

I couldn’t resist making a couch ad since SJM seems to love using chairs as a vehicle for love 😈

Dearest reader, this author has been fondly keeping up with the latest season of Fangs and Bangs. Especially now that Ithan Holstrom, famed Lunathion sunball player, has made his acting debut as a charming guitarist starring opposite a seductive singer, played by the handsome Tharion Ketos. 

The chemistry between the wolf shifter and mer was off the charts during the first three episodes. Indeed, the two sparked dating rumors after being spotted strolling along the Istros riverwalk (well, Tharion was swimming, his coppery tail illustriously flashing in the sun) and eating lunch in the Moonwood district the last few weeks. 

Such rumors were confirmed last night at the White Raven, where Ithan (drunkenly) shouted, "if my boyfriend wins this dance battle, next round of drinks are on me!" With the mer being known for their flexibility, it is no surprise that Ithan left the club with Tharion hand-in-hand and a sky high credit card charge. 

One might argue that "Itharion" is a fake dating situation used to generate press for the new season. Others, like this author, firmly believe that the feelings developed as a result of long hours on set were simply realized after spending time together off camera. 

With Fangs and Bangs being shot and aired on a weekly basis, the finale is not set in stone. But it has come to my attention that producers are planning a romance arc between Tharion and Miss Natalia Paloma, who plays a vampyr songwriter in the show. With Natalia and the general public being staunch Itharion fans, this author hopes the writers may be persuaded to change the season's course before it is too late.

King Dorian Havilliard and Lord Chaol Westfall have been two peas in a pod since the tender ages of 8 and 12—historians will call them close friends. But the chasm that often separates platonic and romantic love can thin to a fine line, and this author has become privy to information that implies such line has been finally crossed. 

Gentle reader, you may recall how the flirtatious prince attended his fair share of courtly revels with the young Captain of the Guard in tow. Perhaps watching Dorian seduce all sorts of ladies had Chaol broodily wishing Dorian was flirting with him instead. Well, last month, the Hand of the King was in for a treat when he offered to organize his King's old paperwork, finding "Dorian Westfall" scribbled across several margins of palace tutoring notes. These precious records were dated to a decade prior, when Dorian was but 15 years old. 

This author surmises that the court ladies were not the only ones ogling at a shirtless 18-year old Chaol Westfall as he trained with Theodus Brullo, Adarlan's Weapons Master. But whatever the cause for Dorian's affections, one cannot deny the prince has continuously prioritized Lord Westfall above himself over the years. Whether it be backing off Aelin Galathynius (nee Celaena Sardothien) or repeatedly saving his friend's life using magic, Dorian's love for Chaol is steadfastly unquestionable. 

There is only one thing that comes to mind when mutual feelings are realized: "Now what?" The sensation is akin to reaching the crest of a hill, stomach tight with nerves and anticipation. It has come to my attention that the two will announce their engagement tomorrow at noon. King Dorian has been reviewing potential candidates to succeed Chaol in his role as the King's Hand, and Chaol has been busy settling into the royal chambers. Take that, historians! 

Adarlan is not the only kingdom with citizens eager to see their ruler wed. This author does not consider itself impatient, but it certainly has had enough of Queen Vassa and General Jurian beating around the bush. I am sure their bickering is equally grating on their foxy roommate's poor nerves. My condolences to him, but what does one expect by throwing a mad general into the cauldron and adding a firebird queen to the mix? Passion, dear readers, passion. Well-mannered folk may believe the best relationships are maintained with agreeable manners, but this pair will have them considering otherwise. After all, we need partners who can keep our egos in check! 

It is well known that the young queen has rejected multiple proposals from fair noblemen across the lands. After all, why settle for a pasty duke when you have a seasoned general always at your side? Before you accuse this author of being a hopeless romantic, consider: what is affection, if it is not scouring the markets for the queen's favorite birdseed and scratching all the hard-to-reach itches while she is stuck in her bird form (even if it is all done under a guise of teasing)? What is desire, if it is not peeping at the bathing general while perched on a tree branch, or nesting in his clothes (and thusly rolling around in his scent)?

Stubborn hearts may deny their feelings all they want, but this author wagers that forcing Queen Vassa and General Jurian in even closer proximity (a locked bedroom, perhaps?) will have them at each other's throats in a more sensual manner.

Dear Suriel, it has been centuries since the Valkyries have passed, so of course I had to drop in on the Valkyrie revival in my own court. My good friends roped me into the training session by pairing me with an Illyrian Valkyrie for a round of sparring. With her earthy brown eyes assessing me, her glossy hair fluttering in the wind, her full lips set with curiosity and determination...my heart was positively pounding! You can imagine that I tried to prolong the sparring session to the best of my ability.

To my surprise, the fierce Valkyrie became a blushing lady once we started conversing normally! I'll admit I was flustered, too. After learning how she enjoys drinking tea and reading smutty books, I plan to "drop in" again next week with a special edition novel. And maybe an invitation to high tea the following week, if all goes well. Oh, did you know that she also runs her own business? And it's a clothing store?!? Can this female get any more perfect? I think her wings are the loveliest out of all Illyrians. Actually, I think I may be in love. Help! All my love, Wine o'Clock

Dear Wine o'Clock, this is an advice column, not your personal diary! Help? It seems you are doing fine, when it comes to your courtship plan. But if you are in a tizzy over your newfound feelings...alas, there is no remedy to love sickness! But I am certain a delightful future is in store for both of you, if you catch my meaning. Cauldron bless you both, Suriel

Nolan’s Furnishings: couch BLOWOUT sale! Blow your back out on the hottest deals in Prythian! Pink couches, golden couches, red velvet fainting couches…you name it, we have it! Hear what our customers have to say about our couches: “plush enough for hours of lounging,” “sturdy enough to withstand sexual activities”

#sjmromanceweek2023 #itharion #chaorian #jassa #acotar #crescent city #throne of glass

[pcstan]

hwelo

would you mind sharing some Shelly Headcanons you have if youd like i amstarved of content for her

I WOULD LOVE TOO!! I can talk about her,, all day,,. Here's just a few of the headcanons I have of her!

1-) First one is half of a headcanon and half canon that's not used nearly enough in content about her. In the 'Royal Wedding' episode Stan mentions that Shelly is canonically a den leader for girl scouts which is usually a job that goes to adults or at least older teens so I imagine she's actually much more active and mature than what she's portrayed as. She's definitely still very short tempered and aggressive but I imagine it's more controlled outside of her home life where she doesn't have to be sorrounded by a neglectful family and a "golden child" brother.

2-) Much like Stan doesn't correct their grandpa when he calls him "Billy", Shelly doesn't correct him when he forgets how old she is. She actually likes the attention she gets by grandpa for being the youngest of the family although she'd never admit it cuz she doesn't want to sound childish.

3-) One the topic of family, since she has no on-screen interactions with Jimbo I can just make them all up myself and I do believe he's taken her hunting at least once and told her all about his favorite guns in his shop.

4-) She still listens to Lorde even after the big reveal, just in secret.

5-) She definitely hangs out with Cartman still and he usually finds out stuff about her way before her family does.

6-) A big reason that she has self esteem issues other than her headgear is because although he has Sharon's hair color and eye color she definitely looks more like Randy's child.

7-) She's definitely told Wendy to break up with Stan at least 3 times till Stan stopped bringing her to his house.

8_) She's bipolar and inhereted the disorder genetically (projecting...). It's where her intense anger issues stem from. (She 100% gets it from Randy but he's undiagnosed.)

9-) I headcanon that she cuts her own hair especially when she's frustrated or angry and that she started doing it when she was fairly young, at around 5. Probably started when baby Stan got way more attention that her. I tie this to my headcanon of her being bipolar and exhibiting signs of it–especially anger issues—at a very young age.

10-) As she gets older she gets more extroverted but not in a very healthy way <\3. Much like Stan and Randy she has a very addictive personality but unlike them she strictly refuses to get into smoking or drinking (or even gambling like Marvin). She thinks this will keep her safe but she starts getting addicted to the attention she gets from being more manic and roudy. Bad attention and good attention are both fine for her, especially if it comes from her parents.

11-) She loves gummy worms but because she's fucking weird she slurps them instead of bitting into them. Yep. Immediately swallows them. Fucking weirdo. I mean I guess it helps with keeping her braces in check but still fucking weird.

12-) She likes them ugly ass crusty white dogs.

13-) She has so many ugly ass printed shirts. A collector with the most exquisite taste in garbage.

#I have so many more these are just off the top of my head #I'm sorry some of these are angsty I just need to talk about her sad parts too #ALSO IF YALL HAVE ANY HCS ABOUT HER #Please tell me I'd love to know #You can even message me directly idc I'm ALWAYS open to talking about south park and procrastinating on home work #shelly marsh

[charliethomascoxuniverse]

Charlie Cox: Star turn

Charlie Cox is taking a break from Hollywood to bring Pinter to London's West End. And the experience has proved to be truly terrifying, he tells Charlotte Cripps.

Tuesday 29 January 2008 (X)

I'm watching a preview of the Harold Pinter double bill at the Comedy Theatre on the night before I meet Hollywood's newest star, Charlie Cox, when I encounter his fan club in the row behind me. The girls gasp collectively at how good-looking he is, especially at the end of The Collection, when he strips off to a pair of tight white boxer shorts.

The English public school-educated 25-year-old is not only converting teenagers to Pinter, however; he also holds his own with his more experienced co-stars, Timothy West, Richard Coyle and Gina McKee.

The young star has just played the lead in the blockbuster family film Stardust, alongside such Hollywood luminaries as Michelle Pfeiffer, Robert de Niro, Sienna Miller and Claire Danes. Cox's character was the earnest, genuine Tristan, who transforms from boy to man on his quest for true love. In real life, too, the actor is growing up fast as he finds himself, right at the beginning of his career, rubbing shoulders with the acting elite. Although he had picked up some good roles – performing opposite Al Pacino in The Merchant of Venice and in Casanova alongside Heath Ledger – the actor was relatively unknown until a few months ago. Nowadays Cox, with his boyish, wide-eyed good looks, gets recognised wherever he goes.

When we meet the morning after the Pinter previews, the actor is cleaning his teeth in his dressing room at the Comedy Theatre. As he welcomes me inside, he takes off his porkpie hat to reveal a mass of bouncing, newly cut hair and clear brown eyes. His dressing room, which has the feel of a miniature flat, is nevertheless smaller than those of the other three members of the cast, because, he says as if he is still at boarding school, he is "the new boy".

His costumes for the character Bill – who in The Collection is accused by a husband (Coyle) of having a one-night stand with a married woman (McKee), despite being in a gay relationship with Harry (West) – are hanging tidily over a camp bed. There is a ‘Just For Today’ meditation book on the table – a 12-step recovery tool – because the actor no longer drinks. He has already begun pinning things neatly to the white walls, to create a collage that will document his four-month run in the play. So far it includes a line of fizzy vitamin C sachets, a Nurofen Cold & Flu packet, even three different Starbucks coffee cup sizes. He points out everything to me – "I will remember the bad cold I had at the beginning of the run" – but it is only day four. He is still warming up in his first proper job on a West End stage. "I am far out of my comfort zone. I am trying to keep up with actors who are consistently brilliant, not like me, this Disney kid Cox from Stardust."

Cox lives in World's End, Chelsea, above an art gallery, with his best friend, Ned, and dog, Ralph. He speaks with passion and maturity about his job, and has a calm presence as well as heaps of energy, which he uses both positively and negatively. "I am incredibly self-deprecating. It stems from self-doubt. With every job I watch, I can't find peace with what I've done. It's never good enough in my mind. I will never be happy if I'm in that mindset, unless I get a review that starts: 'once in a generation'," he says, laughing. "Fame terrifies me. I can say that with honesty. You're terrified that, when people know the real you, they won't like you."

The actor was born in 1982 and grew up in East Sussex with his publisher father, Andrew, his mother, Trisha, and his older brother, Toby. He also has three much older half-siblings, Ollie, Emma and Zoë, who were all leaving home by the time he was born. At the age of eight, he was sent to a local prep school and then to Sherborne School in Dorset. He won the school's Gerald Pitman Award for Drama twice, before leaving school for London at the age of 18.

He got a supporting role in the film Dot the I opposite Gael Garcia Bernal, before starting at the Bristol Old Vic Theatre School at 19 years old. It was a miserable experience. "They start picking holes and I took it all too personally." Auditioning for roles was banned while pupils were still at the school, but after his first year he secretly auditioned for Pacino's The Merchant of Venice. "I remember feeling really panicked. I was meant to have learnt to play the recorder for the class nativity play when I got the call from my agent telling me I'd got the role. The next thing I knew I was hanging out in Luxembourg with one of my idols. Deep down I knew I'd never go back to Bristol. To slot back into my class after that would have been entirely weird."

He then played a warrior in an unwatchable Spanish film, Tirante el Blanco. "To call it a flop is an understatement. The film made no sense. It hadn't been translated properly. I wasn't even invited to the premiere." He returned to the UK to perform for no wages in 'Tis Pity She's a Whore to packed houses at Southwark Playhouse. The production, directed by Edward Dick, received rave reviews. "None of us got paid for it but it ended up being one of the shows to see in London."

This was the first time that the actor had a difficult decision to make, as he had already been offered a role in a big feature film when the Pinter play came up. "It really threw a spanner in the works because there is a pressure to continue to do films. If you disappear for a little while, they just lose interest. But if I want to be still acting when I'm older, the Pinter play is the kind of work I need to be attached to. The theatre is where I'm learning my trade," says Cox. "In Tim's [West] day he did years of rep theatre. Today we are in a manic rush to be rich and famous. None of us young stars has had time to learn our trade. There is a horrible misconception that you can either act or not. But experience is everything."

It is a challenge for Cox, playing a lead role in The Collection – one of the two rarely performed Pinter plays, the other being The Lover, which are being revived at the Comedy Theatre under the direction of Jamie Lloyd, who recently directed The Caretaker for Sheffield Theatres. "Harold [Pinter] has been involved in the production, but he hasn't told us whether my character Bill really did sleep with Stella or not. He is the only one who really knows. Gina [McKee] and I made a decision that we think helps us, but we are keeping that decision a secret." Bill is a million miles away from his Stardust role of Tristan, who wore his heart on his sleeve. "What is certain about my character Bill is that he lies all the time. Whether Bill did it or not, he still gives different versions of the story. He is a bit of a spoilt brat who doesn't think of what other people want. He just wants a bit of a drama. He craves power and manipulates people for his own amusement. He annoys Harry for no reason at all other than to entertain himself."

For Cox, who has been living out of a suitcase for so long, starring in the West End allows him something of a normal routine. He can walk his dog and hang out with the small group of friends whom he has known since childhood. Fame has not changed him, and he doubts it ever will. None of the older actors has ever sat him down for a pep talk either, but Pacino offered him some words of wisdom. "Al said, 'You're not an actor until you've got a leather jacket.' I took it very seriously and asked my parents to buy me this brown leather jacket for my 21st birthday. It's worn really well, hasn't it? Then Al rang me on the day to wish me happy birthday while I was in the middle of having a small party. Answering the phone to him was one of the most bizarre things that has ever happened to me."

Now Cox has another offer to star with Pacino, in Enclosure, a black comedy about a Jewish family. He has already finished filming Stone of Destiny, based on a true story, in which he plays Ian Hamilton, a committed Scottish nationalist who in the 1950s led a raid on Westminster Abbey to bring the Stone of Scone back to Scotland. The actor talks about his career with the excitement of somebody who is living his dream. In promotional TV interviews for Stardust he looked almost startled, but since he's been at home he seems to be more at ease. "It's so easy to become obsessed with the film industry and recognition that we can forget that we are not saving the world. We are just actors trying to entertain people. Doing this play, in front of a live audience, has reminded me of that."

~*~

#a lovely interview of a young Charlie 😎💖 #and the source of some of his most famous quotes #also I'm pleased to say fame hasn't changed him - he's still the same sweet humble and hardworking guy he's always been <333 #charlie cox #bill lloyd #the lover and the collection #theatre #interview #article