#writing your name in the snow as a trope. is that a trope. maybe

[eggbreadboi]

Names

I was thinking a lot about what it’s like to be separated from your culture and language (be that Asirpa, who in order to write, would have to write in a language that isn’t her own, whose companions don’t speak her language, or Vasily who can’t speak easily, not to mention doesn’t have many people around him who speak Russian)and human connection despite that. idk. thematic soup, mostly. I always thought that as an Ogata foil Vasily should’ve had more bonding time with Asirpa, and I always thought he’d be a bit more receptive. smth smth man with hobbies probably better adjusted (no, he’s probably not)

[yesimwriting]

Heyy ya!! Hwo you doing? I wanted to ask maybe you can write Coriolanus x reader when he gets to district after just finishing training for pacekeepers, or maybe where his tribute just arrived to the capitol and the reader maybe says the “what does my mentor do besides bring me roses?” Line? ❤️

A/n the turn around for this was so fast for me 😭 i got excited

hi!! i love these prompts and am so glad for the excuse to write something for him 😭,, also i didn't blatantly make the reader the district 12 tribute bc i didn't want to necessarily cute lucy gray out all together, but it's clear that she's from a poorer district and that being assigned to mentor her is an insult to the Snow name,, also reader pulls a katniss and volunteers for a younger family member bc the irony of that scratches an inch in my brain

Summary: After the very public slight of being assigned to mentor a female tribute from a lower district, all Snow can think about is the uphill battle that winning the Plinth prize will now be. Until, he realizes, that he's been given the first ever district volunteer who seems to have a quality that makes people care about her.

Warnings: my first time writing for a specific character, Coriolanus's internal thoughts are a little softer than they should be at some points but i love the accidental and deeply impractical crush trope so

---

Of Angels

The desperation masquerading as fierceness behind her eyes is undeniable. Coriolanus feels the way your panic, your shock as the weight of your own words dawn on you in his chest. He swallows, forcing down the feeling.

Take me--take me instead! The phrase is repeated again and again, shaky and pleading.

Something about the display, about the 12-year-old girl that desperately tries to cling to you as peace keepers push you forward, makes it hard to watch. Even worse, it makes it impossible to look away.

The first ever district volunteer. A suicide mission or a--a desperate call for attention? A decision made out of hysteria that you're already starting to regret?

He can't decide as the footage of you being ushered onto stage is played. Surely, Dr. Gaul and other Capitol officials won't find this acceptable. The concept of volunteering has always been reserved for the careers, the districts that produce well fed children that train for this. It's a way to allow them to pick their best, their strongest. It is not a way for someone to lay down their life for someone else.

"Are you saying you volunteer?"

You blink, eyes wild and bright as you openly survey the crowd. Coriolanus briefly thinks that you might attempt to take what he doubts is an actual out. You seem to be considering something before finally nodding once. The motion so stiff it makes you look smaller, like the girl whose name was originally called.

"Yes," you mumble. The softness of it is a personal accost. Your choice was made in panic, but that isn't who you are. You're not much of a performer or a fighter or even bold...you're not much of a chance at the Plinth Prize. "I-I volunteer."

----

In the end, he had come because of Tigris. She had insisted that there was a way to see his tribute as more than just another face from the districts, as more human than animal.

She loves that little girl enough to die in her place. If I was her, I'd want someone to tell me that my choice meant something. I'd want someone to show that they care about me.

The words had felt dismissible at first, but the more he thought about them, the more it made sense. Panem had seen the entire thing, had seen the way that his tribute continued to comfort the younger girl even after sentencing herself to death. There's a story worthy of a show in that.

If he can convince you to go on camera, to speak of the girl, of the choice...maybe he'd have a chance at his future. And if the public support manages to help you in some way or another, that'd only be an additional benefit. You love that girl enough to die for her, maybe that means you love her enough to fight tooth and nail to live for her as well.

The train that stops at each district pulls to a stop. The doors open, releasing the sound of tributes that are learning the consequences of attempting to cause issues for the peacekeepers.

A boy he vaguely recognizes steps out, and then a younger girl. Are you one of the tributes already risking their lives in an attempt to aggravate peacekeepers? Or maybe you're cowering at the back of the train, clinging onto the safety of a familiar space.

You prove to be neither. You emerge from the train, perfectly in tact and stable.

Coriolanus parts his lips, yet no words manage to come out. You're different in person, the white you're dressed in is objectively dirtier than it was when you were reaped and yet somehow, here in the dim, gray station it feels brighter. A stray beam of sunlight breaking through a cluster of clouds. A promise that the storm will end soon and that the angels have yet to abandon the earth.

Your dress is a simple thing, loose enough to be a hand-me-down or maybe even borrowed, the lace of the skirt falling farther down your knees than it should. That paired with the ribbon scraps tied to each side of your head make you look younger and cruelly innocent.

"Hello." The blandness of his own beginning forces a burning sort of regret to take over his chest. You attentively turn, expression kind and expecting. It only makes the embarrassment he doesn't fully understand scorch him from the inside out with more violence. He's once again struck with the desire to look away and finding himself incapable of doing so. "My name is Coriolanus Snow, and I'm your mentor."

You nod, features hardening. You've pieced it all together--his appearance, what he's saying, and where you are. He's revealed himself as part of the Capitol and now you can no longer watch him with kind, accepting eyes. The look you're giving him is almost enough to make him wish he could have presented this differently.

Coriolanus extends an arm, the carefully chosen pure white rose an olive branch. You blink, eyebrows drawing together before you slowly reach out and take the flower by its stem. Your fingertips brush against his own, the warmth of your skin is so shocking he has to remind himself not to flinch.

"A mentor?" You repeat the word like your only reason for doing so is to try out the foreign word on your tongue. "Does everyone get one or am I just lucky?" You look down at the rose you're now holding. "Or has the rumor that I'm a rebellion trick spread to the Capitol?"

The last question genuinely surprises him. It shouldn't, there had been some talk about why anyone from a poor district would ever choose to go into the games. The way you and the girl you saved reacted to each other could have been staged...but Coriolanus didn't think it was enough to warrant genuine rumors. Anyone that had looked at your eyes and seen the fear in them would have known that it was sacrifice. Is sacrifice. That girl means the world to you.

"No," he starts slowly, "No, everyone gets one and no one here has any preconceptions about you."

You raise your eyebrows, making it clear that you don't believe him. No preconceptions had been a strong way to phrase things, but the urge to assure you had taken over with no warning. You then look away, glancing around to take in your surroundings.

"Then why isn't there..." You trail off, your gaze landing firmly on him. "You're not supposed to be here."

He blinks. For the first time, it feels like you're truly looking at him. His own susceptibility to your wide eyes turns his stomach. You're the one that should feel like something up for display under his stare. "No, I'm not."

The admission forces the edge of your lips to pull upwards. "Alright," you hum, "So what does my mentor do for me besides bring me roses?"

"I do my best to take care of you."

For a second, all you do is stare. He's surprised you. The realization brings him more relief than it should. "The girl who you volunteered for..."

You tilt your head downwards, hiding your expression as your fingers carefully toy with the exterior of the soft petals. "My cousin," the explanation is low, cautious, "But we uh--we're more like sisters."

An in that he doesn't even have to work for. "I understand that." You look up, not bothering to hide your confusion. Maybe you weren't expecting something so human to come out. Maybe human works for you. "During the war, we took care of each other...and then after our parents passed, we were left in the care of our grandmother."

The silence that follows is tight, straining against the sympathies you're not willing to extend to someone like him. Your lips part, and Coriolanus is disgusted by the part of him that's curious about what's going to come next.

You're pushed back with no warning. His attention snaps towards the peacekeeper who is shoving against your shoulder with more force than necessary.

"Excuse--" No reaction, no response as another peacekeeper grabs your arm. "Excuse me, I'm her--" You're being dragged away in order to be packed into another vehicle of transportation with the rest of them.

Coriolanus stays near, doing his best to never lose sight of you in the chaos. A tribute breaks free from the hold of the peacekeepers and launches his body forward. An ill thought out escape attempt. The distraction is all Coriolanus needs. This is his chance to go after you, to cement a connection that will guarantee cooperation.

It's not the distraction that gets him to move or even thoughts of the Plinth prize, it's the final flash of angel white fabric as its forced back into darkness. He rushes forward before he can overthink, entering the vehicle just as the doors shut.

----

i think i might make a part 2!!

[ilguna]

hii could you please write a young coriolanus x reader arranged marriage trope thank you

☼ plinth legacy (Coriolanus Snow) ☼

warnings; swearing, death mention, blood mention, some grief.

wc; 7.7k

notes; made the reader sejanus's sister for angst reasons :)

--

Coriolanus Snow.

A name, much less a person, you had never thought would constantly be on your mind. He wasn’t before. In fact, most days you wouldn’t glance his way twice, unless you had to. He was just another face at the Academy, a friend of your brother, Sejanus. Which, by association, made him a friend of yours. Or, at the very least, acquaintances.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like him, or that he was unbearable to have a conversation with. Actually, his presence was nice, on the occasions that you were around him for longer than a few minutes at a time. He was polite, and always seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, even if he’d heard it all before from Sejanus.

You started to see more of Coriolanus when they became mentors for the tributes in the districts. You weren’t eligible to participate, and it wasn’t due to grades, but because you’re a year younger than your brother. This didn’t stop him from pulling you to see the tributes in the zoo when the opportunity first struck.

Ma had warned you two to be careful, after what she had seen happen with Coriolanus getting stuck inside. Still, she happily made the sandwiches when Sejanus requested it, and even made extra after he told her what his plan was. He wanted to give them to the tributes inside of the cage, he had a feeling they were hungry, and he was right.

Sejanus couldn’t get them to approach the bars, no matter what he said, or how hard he tried. A few times, you’d tried yourself, attention focused on one person in particular, who was on the far side of the cage, refusing to look your guys’ way. 

Your fingers curled around the cold steel, leaning into it. “Marcus.” You breathed, a smile on your face. “Please, we want to help.” His eyes found you, standing above where Sejanus was crouched. “It’s just a sandwich.”

He didn’t budge, of course. Sejanus took a glance behind the two of you, getting to his feet. The sandwich lowering in one hand, as he waved someone over with the other. When you looked, you found Coriolanus coming through the crowd, blonde curls bouncing with each step. 

When he caught your eye, he gave you a smile. “Trouble?”

“None of them trust us. And why should they?” Sejanus asked.

“Us?” Coriolanus echoed.

“I’ve been trying, too. But not as broadly.” You shook your head.

A girl had marched up next to the three of you to point to a sign on a pillar next to the enclosure. “It says, ‘Please don’t feed the animals.’” 

“They’re not animals, though,” Sejanus told her. “They’re kids, like you and me.”

“They’re not like me! They’re district. That’s why they belong in a cage!” She shouted.

Sejanus sighed. “Once again, like me.” He then looked at Coriolanus. “Coriolanus, do you think you could get your tribute to come over? If she does, the others might. They have to be starving.”

He hesitated, looking through the bars to find his tribute. He took a moment to think, debate whether or not he should. All he needed was a little push to convince him, so you leaned forward, over Sejanus, to place a hand on his arm.

“Please?” The word was sweet, more than you had intended it to be. His eyes moved to you, instead. “Do you have any ideas?”

He took in a breath, “I can’t just treat her like it’s feeding time at the zoo,” He was shaking his head. “Not mine. But I could offer her dinner. Maybe they’ll join after that.”

Sejanus nodded, you removed your hand, giving him a smile. Your brother opened up the backpack for Coriolanus to see the amount of sandwiches and fresh plums that were inside, waiting. “Take whatever. Ma made extra. Please.”

Coriolanus took two sandwiches and two plums, and then moved away to a more private spot, where he sat down on a flat rock. His tribute went up to him to join, and they spoke briefly. She took a bite out of one of the sandwiches, a smile appearing on her face. 

The other tributes had moved forward, seemingly gauging her reaction to make sure that it was good. When she swallowed her bite, she turned her head to them. “You all should get one. They’re real good!” She waved her district friend forward. “Go on, Jessup!”

Jessup took his time approaching the fence, black hair sticking to his forehead from the heat. Sejanus wordlessly handed him a sandwich, and a healthy plum. As soon as Jessup had returned to where he’d been before, the other tributes rushed forward.

You stole a sandwich and a plum, holding them to your chest, eyes on Marcus, as he refused to come forward. A dozen hands stuck themselves through the bars, and your brother struggled to fill them quickly. Within the minute, the food was gone, everyone had gotten one. 

Except for Marcus. 

He had his arms crossed over his chest, face hard. Sejanus pulled a sandwich out of the very bottom of the bag, unaware that the food you were holding was for Marcus, and not for yourself.

“Marcus, this is for you. Take it. Please.” Sejanus said, leaning out as far as he could. “Please, Marcus.” He pleaded. “You must be starving.”

You watched with a sinking heart as Marcus looked Sejanus up and down, and then turned his back to the both of you. One of the other, smaller, boy tributes took the opportunity and ran forward to claim the sandwich, snatching it from Sejanus’s hand. 

The news crew showed up after that, pushing a camera into his face. Your brother wasn’t having it, slinging the empty backpack over his shoulder. He held his elbow out for you, so he could escort you through the crowd better.

“I’m going to talk to Marcus.” You told him. “I don’t want him to go hungry.”

“Ma will be upset that I left you here.” Sejanus said, “She told me to watch you.”

“You wouldn’t be leaving me. I have Coryo.” You motioned to Coriolanus, who was in his own world with his tribute. You cleared your throat, getting his attention. “Sejanus is going to leave, you wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on me, would you?”

Coriolanus nodded, smiling, “Of course not, why’d you even ask?”

Sejanus was satisfied, lowering his elbow. “I’ll see you at home.”

“Tell Ma I won’t be too late.” You said, watching him weave through the crowd to leave.

And then you turned back to the cage, eyes on Marcus in the corner. He was stiff, unmoving in the corner for another few long minutes. Which was probably done to ensure that you two had left. 

When he decided that enough time had passed, he took his time turning around. The first place he looked was in your direction to confirm the coast was clear.

You were certain he was going to shut you out at the sight of you, but he didn’t. He stayed where he was, and so did you. You waited for him to relax, even if it was a little bit, before you bothered to hold up the sandwich and the plum you’d been holding to your chest. The food that you’d been protecting for him.

His face twisted, you stared, drawing in a breath. “Ma made it. I don’t want you to go hungry, Marcus.”

Marcus deliberated, eyes wandering from yours, and then he’d pushed himself off of the wall. You crouched, so that he wouldn’t have to come up the dry moat if he didn’t want to. He took his time, drawing attention to himself. 

If he had any respect from the other tributes for abstaining, it had crumbled like his resolve. 

Marcus stopped at the bottom of the moat, you held out the sandwich and the plum for him. “We’re so sorry you’re here, Marcus. We never could’ve imagined it’d come to this.” He didn’t move, watching you. 

And then all of a sudden he did.

His hands closed around your wrists, yanking you forward. You barely turned your head in time to keep your nose from slamming into the bars, eyes wide, trying to pull back. He had a tight grip on you, squeezing hard enough for you to feel the blood beginning to build in your fingers.

“You aren’t.” He said, voice hard.

“Marcus…” You wiggled, “Marcus, you’re hurting me.”

He tried to pull you in closer, forcing you to press into the bars of the enclosure. “This is what you get, (Y/n). This is what happens when you treat people like animals.”

“But this isn’t my fault!” You shouted, panic settling in. “Let go of me!”

“You’re the one that moved to the Capitol. You didn’t stay in District Two. You’re just as bad as they are.”

“Let go!” You cried, tears in your eyes.

“Get off of her.” A hard voice demanded, a hand shot in front of you to make a grab at Marcus.

Coriolanus was angry, an emotion that you hadn’t seen him wear before. He was always so cool and collected, there wasn’t a lot that could get him riled up. If it did, he would excuse himself, to keep from tarnishing his perfect reputation.

A stern crease was between his eyebrows as he got his hand around one of Marcus’s forearms, bringing him forward with one solid pull. 

“I said, get off of her.” His voice was low.

“Or what?” Marcus asked.

“Or I’ll make you wish you never met her.” 

Marcus listened, never taking his eyes off of Coriolanus, as if he could jump through the narrow bars to strangle him. His hands released, and you let go of the sandwich and the plum in the process. You caught yourself on the bars before you could fall completely, standing up swiftly, brushing dust off your skirt.

Coriolanus reached for you, and you held onto the red sleeve of his Academy uniform, breathing heavily. You shook your head at Marcus, heart beating in your chest. “Just because we’re here now, doesn’t mean we’ve changed, unlike you.”

The evening was ruined, but the zoo was closing anyway. Coriolanus let you hang onto his elbow, as he began to lead you out while blocking the cameras from bombarding you. You didn’t make it very far before you saw Sejanus, sitting behind a boulder. And even though you could’ve let go of Coriolanus, you didn’t.

You were upset, for multiple reasons. Your intentions were completely different from what Marcus assumed. You weren’t there to save face with District Two, you were there to help him. And even worse, you were mad at Sejanus for dragging you along in the first place.

It was the last time you went to see Marcus with Sejanus, but it was the first time Coriolanus kept you up at night. It was the way he had stepped in, how he reached for you first, instead of waiting to see if you wanted his comfort. It stuck out in your mind, and then it didn’t.

When your mom saw the bruises on your wrists the following day, she told you that you were done. Sejanus would have to do the mentoring on his own. This doesn’t mean that you heard about it any less. You probably heard about it more, getting every detail without ever having to ask, because Sejanus offered it up.

You didn’t see Coriolanus for a few days after that, despite the fact that you wanted to thank him. You were too invested in schoolwork, while also trying to come up with ideas for Sejanus to use with Marcus, because he wanted to make things right between them.

When you did see him next, it was the day of Arachne Crane’s funeral. The whole school had gathered on the front steps of the Academy. The groups were divided neatly and alphabetically by class, but Coriolanus wasn’t. He was in the front row, sitting alongside important individuals, namely President Ravenstill.

You had no idea why, until the Academy clock struck nine, and the entire crowd fell silent. That’s when he rose from his seat and walked to the podium, where he sang the anthem. The president then gave a speech about Arachne, how her life didn’t deserve to be taken when all the Capitol is doing is striving for peace.

You bit your tongue, hard. If they wanted peace, they should treat those in the districts together. You’d heard about what happened to Arachne, what she did to her tribute. She was teasing a starving girl, and while you don’t agree that taking a life is the right form of payback, you can’t blame the tribute.

The funeral procession came around the corner, following the drumming. At first, it was all peacekeepers from the honor guard. The crane was next, attached to a flatbed. And dangling from the hook, with bullets in her dead body, was the district girl. Below, shackled to the truck bed, were the twenty-three other tributes, filthy with their heads down.

You were sick, struggling to breathe, as you imagined the amount of pain they had to be in. As you pictured yourself hanging from that hook, or chained to a truck that you couldn’t even stand on. The rest of the funeral was a blur, as the truck disappeared.

Still, you went to find Coriolanus, ignoring your own brother to do so. He was standing near the podium, talking to Dean Highbottom, but as soon as he left, you slid in.

“You sounded amazing.” You said, Coriolanus turned to you with raised eyebrows. When he saw your face, he gave you a smile. “I wish I sounded half as good.”

“I’m sure you do.” He said, hand on your shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in a couple of days, is everything okay?”

“Ma told me I’m not allowed to help anymore, she saw the bruises.” You said, “I’m fine, though.”

“He left bruises?” That crease between his eyebrows returned.

“He was mad. I would be too.” You muttered. “They got dumped into a zoo, literally. You were there. How did it feel?”

His face contorted, “Wrong, but that doesn’t excuse his behavior.”

“You’re right.” You sighed. “I never got to properly thank you for stepping in. I think he would’ve let go eventually, but—”

“You don’t need to thank me, (Y/n).” He interrupted, watching as you reached into your backpack.

“I do, actually.” You pulled out a neat plate of bread pudding that had been sitting flat on the bottom of your bag. When you looked up, you saw his parted lips. “You can’t ask how I know, but I heard that you really like bread pudding. I made enough for you and Tigris, or even if you wanted to share it with Lucy Gray.”

“You bake.” He said.

“On occasion. If you have any requests, I’ll be more than happy to make it for you.” You nodded.

He gave you a smile. “Thank you, (Y/n), but I don’t think I could ever ask that of you.”

“Please, don’t hesitate.” You told him. “I’ll see you around.”

You’d expected to see Coriolanus in the hallways next in passing, not the hospital later that evening. The mentors had gone to the arena with the tributes to do televised interviews, when rebels set off several bombs, killing multiple people. Both of the tributes from Six were killed, as well as the Ring twins—Diana and Apollo. While three mentors had been injured, that being Coriolanus, Androcles Anderson and Gauis Breen. The latter one lost both of his legs.

And of course, with the exit being wide open, four tributes went running for it. The tributes from One were dead before they stepped foot out the door, while the girl from Two had made it to the river. She made it over the wall, but died in the fall. While Marcus… he disappeared completely.

Sejanus was, thankfully, uninjured. The Academy canceled classes, so he came straight home. He didn’t really speak until the following day, when he suggested for the two of you to visit Coryo in the hospital. You’d agreed, because leaving your brother alone while he was that upset didn’t seem right.

Ma made more meat loaf sandwiches, because Coriolanus seemed to like them so much. When you visited him, he sat up in the hospital bed. Sejanus set Coryo’s book bag down on a table, while you took a seat. Together, the three of you enjoyed the sandwiches, while talking about anything but Marcus.

When you were done, you wished for him to get well soon. It would be the second time that he’d stay on your mind, this time lasting longer. You didn’t like that he was hurt, especially when he didn’t deserve to be. The war was between the districts and the government, not the people in-between that were being forced to help.

It didn’t seem to bother Coriolanus, though. He kept fighting for his tribute, and you tried to pry him from your mind. It was easier to do when the Games did finally come around, especially that first day. When the cameras started with a wide shot of the arena as a whole, and the fourteen tributes that stood in a circle around the center.

Then the camera changed, as it slowly zoomed in on twin steel poles, twenty feet high with a crossbeam. And at the center, Marcus hung from shackles at his wrists, beaten bloody, face swollen. When he moved his lips, it showed his broken teeth.

You raised to your feet the same time that Sejanus had. He was standing a few feet in front of you, next to Coriolanus, who was watching him carefully. The only reason why you were allowed to be in the hall was because you were there to support your brother, and you quickly understood why.

Sejanus rushed forward, grabbed an empty chair, and hurled it at the screen, where Marcus’s mangled face was. “Monsters!” He screamed. “You’re all monsters here!”

You watched in silence as he left the hall, leaving you there. No one had moved after him, and you were too stunned for a minute to chase after him. Coriolanus turned in his chair, where he saw you grabbing at your wrists, where the bruises were just healing.

“(Y/n)--” He was worried, shaking his head.

“He’s right.” You breathed, backing up toward the door. “What have we done?”

“Miss Plinth,” A hand had grabbed you.

You jerked away, eyes wild, lips parted. It was Dean Highbottom, and there was a warning on his face, telling you not to cause a scene. You didn’t want to be like your brother. Except, it was too late for him to step in, because the two of you were already too similar. Born from the same tree branch that split into two.

“Get away from me.” The words were harsh, “Don’t touch me.”

He let you go, as you followed after Sejanus. He wasn’t too far, just down the hall, where he was heaving heavy breaths, hands in fists at his sides. The look he gave you could’ve killed anyone, but his expression softened when he realized it was you.

You hugged him, standing there for what felt like forever. Marcus ended up dying later that afternoon by another tribute, presumably a mercy killing. Sejanus encouraged you to go home, telling you that he’d be right behind you in a few hours. You listened, told Ma that Sejanus was upset and that was it.

Well, that’s what you thought, at least. He didn’t come home that night, and as it got later, Ma was getting more worried. She asked you if you had any ideas where he could’ve gone, and you told her no. All you could do was suggest Coriolanus, because they were close, and Coryo seemed to care.

Ma took you to the Snow penthouse, where Tigris opened the door, dressed in a nice lavender dress. With Ma in hysterics, you explained the situation, and she invited you inside to sit in the living room. Tigris made tea, while her grandmother took a seat in a chair nearby. On the television was the arena, but it was too dark to see anything, even with the moonlight.

Tigris poured jasmine tea into cups on the table, while your mom tried to clean herself up with the handkerchief. “You’re such nice people. I’m so sorry to have dropped in on you like this.”

“Any friend of Coriolanus is a friend of us all.” His grandmother said. “Plinch, did you say?”

Your eyebrows twitched, Ma didn’t skip a beat. “Plinth. It’s Plinth.”

“You know, Grandm’am, she sent the lovely casserole when Coriolanus was injured.” Tigris said to remind her.

“I’m sorry. It’s too late.” Ma sniffed.

“Please don’t apologize. You did exactly the right thing.” Tigris patted her shoulder, looking up. Her eyebrows raised suddenly. “Oh, here’s my cousin now! Perhaps he knows something.”

You turned, finding Coriolanus gently shutting the door behind him. He gave you a gentle smile, but when you didn’t reciprocate, it dropped slightly. “Mrs. Plinth, (Y/n), what an unexpected pleasure. Is everything all right?” He asked, coming closer.

“Oh, Coriolanus. It isn’t. Not at all. Sejanus hasn’t come home. (Y/n) said he left the Academy this morning, and I haven’t seen him since. I’m so worried." She said. “Where can he be? I know Marcus being like that hit him—” She placed a hand on your knee, hand squeezing. “Them hard. Do you know? Do you know where he could be?”

“He was upset, ma’am. BUt I don’t know that it’s any cause for worry. He probably just needed to blow off some steam. Took a long walk or something. I’d do the same thing myself.” He tried to ease her.

“But it’s so late. It isn’t like him to up and disappear, not without letting his ma know.”

“Is there anywhere you can think of he might go? Or somebody he might visit?” Tigris asked.

Ma shook her head. “No. No. Your cousin’s his only friend.”

Coriolanus looked at you, where you hand your palms on your lap. “You know, if he’d wanted company, I think he’d have come to me first. You can see how he might have needed some time alone to… to make sense of all this. I’m sure he’s all right. Otherwise you’d have heard of it.”

“Did you check with the Peacekeepers?” Tigris asked.

Ma nodded. “No sign of him.”

“You see?” Coriolanus asked. “There’s been no trouble. Maybe he’s even home by now.”

“Perhaps you should go and check.” Their grandmother suggested.

Tigris gave her a look. “Or you could just call.”

Ma shook her head. “No. Your grandma’s right. Home is the place we should be. And I should let you all get to bed.”

“Coriolanus will walk you.” Tigris said.

“Of course.” Coriolanus nodded, you got to your feet.

“My car’s waiting down the block.” Ma told them, getting up as well. She smoothed down her hair. “Thank you. You’ve all been so kind. Thank you.” She reached back to grab her handbag, you looked away from Coriolanus to the television, where you stopped.

There, on the screen, a shadowy figure came out the barricade. The moonlight catering the side of his face, the features eerily familiar. He was carrying something in his hands, as he crossed the arena to Marcus’s corpse, where he stopped. Above laid a sleeping girl, the tribute that had killed your friend to keep him from suffering. 

“Shall I walk you to your car?” Coriolanus asked, Ma had begun toward him. “I bet you’ll find Sejanus in bed.”

“No.” The word was a whisper out of your mouth. “No, Coryo.” He’d turned his attention to you, mouth opening to speak, when you did it first. “Sejanus is in there.”

Coriolanus came closer, passing Ma. You reached out to grab him, hand on his shoulder. Sejanus knelt down, and tried his best to arrange Marcus in an appropriate manner. He rolled Marcus on his back, straightened his legs and tried to fold his arms over his chest. And then he stood up and held his hand out over Marcus’s body.

You couldn’t help the tears that sprung into your eyes.

“That’s your son in there? What’s he doing?” Asked their grandmother.

“He’s putting bread crumbs on the body.” You murmured, lips trembling. “So Marcus has food on his journey.”

“His journey where? He’s dead!”

“Back to wherever he came from.” Ma told them. “It’s what we do, back home. When someone dies.”

You swallowed thickly, a tear running down your face. A handkerchief materialized out of Coriolanus’s pocket, he passed it to you. “Thank you, Coryo.”

The phone rang a moment later. “Is the whole city up?” Their grandmother sighed.

“Excuse me.” Coriolanus said, holding your gaze for a moment, as he walked away. He turned his body away to speak.

You wiped your eyes with the handkerchief, and then folded it neatly to place back on the coffee table. You needed to leave, to go to Sejanus. Why hadn’t he mentioned this to you? Was it because he knew it was a stupid idea?

When Coriolanus came away from the phone, he sighed. “That was the Head Gamemaker. She’d like you to meet her at the arena to collect Sejanus, and I’m to accompany the both of you.”

“Is he in trouble?” Ma asked, eyes wide. “With the Capitol?”

“Oh, no. They’re just concerned with his well-being. Shouldn’t be long, but don’t wait up.” He told his family. 

The three of you shuffled out of the apartment after that, going down the elevator and through the lobby. Your parents’ car rolled up silently, and the three of you got inside, with Coriolanus requesting the arena. The Avox nodded, nad began to drive down the streets in a hurry.

“First time we saw the Capitol, it was night, like this.” Ma spoke quietly.

“Oh, yes?” Coriolanus asked, looking at you.

“Sejanus sat right where you are, saying, ‘It’ll be all right, Ma. It’ll be okay.’ Trying to calm me down. When we all knew it was a disaster,” Ma looked out the window. “But he was so brave. So good. Only thinking of his ma.”

“Hm. Must have been a big change.” Coriolanus said.

“Family and friends cut us off.” You told him, adjusting in your seat.

“No new ones to be made here. Strabo—their pa, that is—still thinks it was the right thing to do. No kind of future in Two. His way of protecting us. His way of keeping Sejanus and (Y/n) from the Games.”

“Ironic, really. Given the circumstances.” Coriolanus said. “Now, I don’t know what Dr. Gaul has in mind, but I imagine she wants your help getting him out of there.”

“I don’t know if I can. Him so upset and all. I can try, but he’ll have to think it’s the right thing to do.” She said, glancing at you. “I can’t let you go inside. You two have always been close, but I don’t want you in there.”

“I don’t want her to go inside, either.” Coriolanus chimed in. “Maybe there will be a different way.”

When you got to the arena, there were people already waiting outside of the doors. A dozen Peacekeepers, a good handful of Gamemakers, including Dr. Gaul. You approached tentatively, unsure about her presence. She didn’t always come off stable, that’s why you tried to keep your distance. 

Coriolanus noticed this, choosing to stand between you two.

“At least you’re punctual.” Dr. Gaul said. “Mrs. Plinth, I presume? And little (Y/n).”

You pressed your lips together. Ma nodded, “Yes, yes. I’m sorry if Sejanus has caused any inconvenience. He’s a good boy, really, It’s just he takes things so to heart.”

“No one could accuse him of being indifferent.” She agreed, looking at Coriolanus. “Any idea how we might rescue your best friend, Mr. Snow?”

“What’s he doing?” Coriolanus asked, ignoring the comment.

“Just kneeling there, looks like.” Dean Highbottom said, eyeing you. “Possibly in some kind of shock.”

“He appears calm. Perhaps you could send the Peacekeepers in now without startling him?” Coriolanus suggested.

“Too risky.” Dr. Gaul shot it down.

“What about putting his mother on a speaker, or a bullhorn?” He asked. “If you can darken the screen, surely you can manipulate the audio as well.”

“On the broadcast. But in the arena, we’d alert every tribute to the fact that there’s an unarmed Capitol boy in their midst.” Dean Highbottom said.

Coriolanus didn’t speak for a second. “What do you propose?”

“We think someone he knows needs to slip in as unobtrusively as possible and coax him out.” Dr. Gaul looked directly at you. “Namely, her.”

“No.” Coriolanus said immediately, shaking his head so hard that his blonde curls started to bounce. “She can’t go in there. I will.”

“Oh, no!” Ma cried. “It can’t be Coriolanus. The last thing we need is to put another child in danger. I’ll do it.”

“What we need is someone who can make a run for it, if necessary. If your daughter won’t, then Mr. Snow is the man for the job.” Dr. Gaul motioned to the Peacekeepers, who came over at her motion to dress him in body armor. “This vest should protect your vital organs. Here’s your pepper spray and a flash unit that will temporarily blind your enemies, should you make any.”

Coriolanus looked down at the bottle of pepper spray. “What about a gun? Or at least a knife?”

“Since you’re not trained, this seems safer. Remember, you’re not in there to do damage; you’re in there to bring your friend out as quickly and quietly as possible.” Dr. Gaul told him.

You started to shake your head, “Coryo, I can’t ask you to do this.”

“You aren’t asking.” He looked at you. “I’m volunteering.”

“He’s just a boy. Let me call my husband.” Ma begged.

Dean Highbottom gave Coriolanus a small smile. “He’ll be all right. It takes a lot to kill a Snow.”

You watched as Coriolanus’s face dropped, he sighed. And then he looked at you. “I’ll bring Sejanus out. Don’t worry.”

“Be careful.” You told him.

The Peacekeepers took him to the arena, where he disappeared inside. Your attention shifted to the news truck with the live feed of the tributes. It was dark though, too dark. You could barely make out anything, meaning you might as well had not been looking at all.

You were able to make out their figures, as Coriolanus slowly approached Sejanus to not scare him. They stood there, the minutes dragging on for what felt like forever, until they finally made the movement to leave, but not without Marcus’s body. They picked it up, made it a good deal across the arena before the other tributes came up to them. Less than a minute later, they came out.

And you were there in an instant, because you refused to leave without seeing either of the boys, while Ma went home. You had to push past the Peacekeepers to see Coriolanus and Sejanus, sitting on the tile. You crouched in front of them, hands on your knees.

“That was stupid of you, Sejanus.” You told your brother, looking at the blood pooling on the ground. “But you did what I couldn’t do.”

And then you looked at Coriolanus, who had his eyes on you already. You could see the scrapes on his face, his chin mostly, and the blood on his forehead. You reached out, he winced, but let you touch the area around the wounds.

“Thank you, Coryo.” You whispered.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Of course, (Y/n).”

From then on, seeing Coriolanus for longer than a few minutes at a time was rare. You looked forward to it each time. You saw him when Sejanus announced the Plinth prize, the sparkle in his eye at the mention of it.

He stopped by a couple days later, after Sejanus had gone to bed and Ma was cooking in the kitchen. You think he wanted to talk to Sejanus, possibly about the whole ordeal in the arena, but he had taken his sleeping medication. With the dosage he was on, there was no waking him.

You were sitting at the kitchen counter, swiveling side to side on the stool, talking to Ma as she baked her pies. You were about to go to bed, dressed in your pajamas, the only reason why you hadn’t was because you were waiting for her to put the peach pie in the oven first. At the sight of Coriolanus, the cuts on his face, and the smile on his lips, you’d clammed up.

“I was just heading off to bed.” You said to him, sliding from the chair.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for a piece of pie, (Y/n)?” Ma asked you, worry on her face.

“I’ll have a piece tomorrow.” You told her. “Besides, I think Coryo will have a piece big enough for the both of us, isn’t that right?” You smiled.

He nodded. “Sure.”

“Goodnight.” You murmured, pausing long enough to let Ma kiss your forehead. You waved to Coriolanus, and then disappeared around the corner, where curiosity stopped you. 

Except, what they talked about while he enjoyed the blackberry pie wasn’t important, just about Sejanus and how the university would be better when he graduated. The real talk came after, when Pa wanted to see him. And Coriolanus went inside, closing the door behind him, which you then pressed your ear to.

“You look just like your father.”

“I hear that a lot,” Coriolanus said. “Did you know him?”

“Our business overlapped at times.” Pa said. “It’s striking, the resemblance. But you’re nothing like him, really.” He paused for a moment. “Nothing at all. Or you’d never have gone into that arena after my son. Impossible to imagine Crassus Snow risking his life for me. I keep asking myself why you did it.”

“I couldn’t let (Y/n) go inside. And he’s my friend.”

“No matter how many times I hear that, it’s difficult to believe. But even from the beginning, Sejanus singled you out. Maybe you take after your mother, huh? She was always gracious to me when I came here on business before the war. Despite my background. The very definition of a lady. Never forget it.” Pa said, there was another pause. “Are you like your mother?”

Coriolanus didn’t speak right away. “I’d like to think I am, in some respects.”

“In what respects?”

“Well, we shared a fondness for music.”

“Music, huh?”

“And I do think we both believed that good fortune was… something to be repaid… on a daily basis. Not taken for granted.” Coriolanus said.

“I’d agree with that.”

“Oh, good. Yes, well, so… Sejanus.”

“Sejanus. Thank you, by the way, for saving his life.”

“No thanks necessary. As I said, he’s my friend.”

“And (Y/n), is she your friend too?” Pa asked.

“Yes, she is.”

“She tells me that you’ve done a lot for her lately.” Pa said slowly. “You helped her at the zoo?”

“That was nothing.”

“I wouldn’t consider it so. She could’ve gotten seriously hurt if you hadn’t stepped in. You saw the bruises.” He said. “You’ve checked up with her since. And volunteered to keep her safe when Dr. Gaul suggested that she should go inside of the arena.”

“Well—”

“Coriolanus, in District Two, there are traditions we have for families like ours.” Pa said, your eyebrows drew together. “Wealthy families, I mean. I’m not sure if the Capitol has the same beliefs.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not following.” Coriolanus said.

“Arranged marriage.” 

You felt your blood run cold, but at the same time, the heat flamed in your face, licking your cheeks. You pulled your ear away for a second, thinking that you shouldn’t be listening in on this conversation.

“I’ve heard of families coming together in the Capitol, but it’s not very common.”

“It’s for more than just wealth, it’s to combine names as well.” Pa told him. “Snow is a grand name, don’t you think?”

“As is Plinth.” Coriolanus agreed.

“So, you understand what I’m implying then? What would your grandmother think?”

“I think that she wouldn’t agree to doing it so soon.”

“Of course not, it would happen after graduation, before university.” Pa said, “Will you give me your home phone? I’d like to discuss this with your grandmother.”

After that point, seeing Coriolanus would be painful… except, you didn’t see him the following day. In fact, you didn’t see him again at all. The next time his name was brought up in your house was with Sejanus’s, which was tied in with the words District Twelve and Peacekeepers.

“What?” You asked, coming around the hallway corner. Ma’s eyes widened. “Sejanus is where?”

“Oh, darling, you weren’t supposed to hear that. We wanted to tell you tonight.”

You shook your head. “Sejanus and Coryo went to District Twelve? Why?”

“I believe Coriolanus Snow signed himself up.” Pa told you. “As for Sejanus, it was the best we could do. He won’t be there long.”

“And what about Coriolanus?”

Pa made a face, tilted his head, “Twenty years, is what I was hearing.”

Your mouth dropped open, a reaction that you couldn’t stop in time. “Is that the same for Sejanus?”

“Yes.”

The only option you were given to keep in touch was letters. You could write to either of them whenever you wanted. Ma even told you that she was going to pack them food to send, stuff that they’d never be able to get in the districts, let alone Twelve.

With it being summer, you had plenty of time on your hands to write, but every time you picked up the pencil, the words escaped you. Everything that you’d been bottling to save for Sejanus seemed meaningless. So, you mostly replied to what Sejanus said, which could be a lot. He carried the conversations mostly, and you told him that you missed him. And you’d continue to miss him until he finally came back.

Which would never happen, not that you knew that at the time. It was a quiet day when the news reached your parents about what happened. That your brother had got caught up in rebel activities, which was treason. He was hanged without a trial, without a single letter sent home. For once, your family’s money couldn’t buy his way out of this one.

A black hole appeared in your chest, sucking in everyone’s words, their emotions. Ma couldn’t help you, even though she tried. She spent more time with you, trying to get you to speak, but all you wanted was to forget. Or to go back in time and tell Sejanus he needed to stop, that his actions would cost him his life.

Sejanus.

The boy you grew up with, the one you trusted with every secret, the one that kept you safe. Who you’d play with as a child when no one else would, who would help you with your homework when you fell behind. His sweetness, his hopefulness, his personality. He’s gone. He’s gone and you never got to say goodbye. 

All you gave him was half-assed letters. If you’d known that it would be the last time you talked to him, you would’ve done more. You would’ve said so much more. 

It was like almost every piece of him was gone, until the next wave of news came. While Sejanus would never get to leave District Twelve, Coriolanus had been honorably discharged. He was coming home to the Capitol. And with it being weeks after Sejanus’s death, it opened up a conversation that you thought was done for good.

The Snow’s were falling. You’d heard the news about Tigris and their grandmother almost immediately after Coriolanus had left. They had to sell their apartment, the nice penthouse you went to visit once. They couldn’t afford to keep it, so they downgraded, but the apartment lay empty.

Pa had decided that it was time to revisit the topic of an arranged marriage when he heard that Coriolanus was coming back. Ma really liked Coryo, because he was such a good friend to Sejanus. With your brother being gone, their attention had shifted a little, split between you and Coryo. Why keep it that way when there was a solution?

His grandmother agreed to it. It took a little bit of convincing, but at the mention of Pa buying the penthouse back as a gift, it made her cave. A letter was promptly sent to Coriolanus, who wasn’t to leave Twelve for another few days while they settled his paperwork. 

And his reply? ‘It would be my pleasure.’

As you straighten out the dress again, you look at the time on the clock that the train station has on display. Coriolanus should be arriving at any minute. It was requested that he were to be picked up by a Peacekeeper truck to take him to the Citadel, but Pa pulled strings, as he always does. He wanted your face to be the first thing that Coriolanus saw when he stepped off. 

You didn’t agree to this. You wanted to put this off for as long as possible. Sejanus chose to go to District Twelve to follow Coriolanus. They were close. He was the last one to have a conversation with your brother when he was alive. Besides, you’re set to marry him in a few short weeks. His suit measurements take place in two days.

A horn sounds, you look up from your polished shoes, the one scuf you managed to get this morning on the walk here. It was too late to turn around and change the shoes. Besides, they’re the only pair that matches this dress. A whole new outfit bought for Coriolanus, and he won’t even realize it.

The train pulls in the station, blowing cool air into your face. You take in a deep breath, trying to correct your posture. This will be the first time you’ve seen Coriolanus in months. Does he even know that you’re here to greet him?

It doesn’t matter. Once the doors open, you take a few steps toward them, trying to be casual. It’s hard to, with the hammering in your chest. You press your lips together, regripping the handbag, coming to a stop in front of the doors. The first few people that file out look like regular Capitol workers.

You’re too busy looking for Coriolanus’s blonde curls, that you almost miss him stepping out of the doors. His eyes flicker up for a moment, likely to collect his bearings, glancing over you.

You must register in his mind the next second, because he looks directly at you again, stepping off the train. You swallow, eyes stuck on his hair. Or rather, the lack of it. His head’s been shaved.

“(Y/n).” He smiles, “I wish I would’ve known you’d be here, I would’ve had something for you.”

“Your curls…” You murmur, face beginning to contort. If they got rid of his hair when he was enlisted, was the same done to Sejanus?

Coriolanus closes the distance between the two of you, pulling you into a tight hug. You press your forehead to his chest, hands gripping the clothes he’s wearing as you fight off the tears that threaten you. You don’t want to cry, you’ve spent so much of your time doing exactly that. For once, you want to be in control.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/n).” He says, “I can’t imagine how difficult it’s been.”

“I miss him.” The words are strained, you pull your head back, looking at Coriolanus. “I wish he would’ve told me what he was planning.”

“He’d never put you in danger.” 

“I know.” You back away from the hug. Coriolanus holds out his elbow for you to take, you begin to lead him to the car. “I trust you’ve learned a lot these past few months. Did you get to see Lucy Gray, at least?”

His face smooths out, this was not the right question to ask. He lets out a sigh, shaking his head. “I did, but her lifestyle is much different from mine.”

You nod. “You’re not district.”

“I’m not covey.” He corrects, a smile hinting at the corners of his lips.

“Oh, so she had you singing?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” He looks away, at someone passing by.

It’s quiet between the two of you for a moment. There was so much you wanted to say to him, but much like the letters to your brother, the words have left you. You chew on the inside of your cheek.

“You have something on your mind.” Coriolanus says, it’s not a question.

You sniff. “It’s um… It’s about Sejanus, just one thing I have to know before I can stop thinking about him.”

“He wouldn’t want you to do that.”

“It’s to put my mind at ease.” You stop outside of the car. “I know it’s not your tradition, Coriolanus, but were you able to…”

He nods. “I was.”

You meet his eyes. “The bread crumbs? They let you see his body?”

“He has food on his journey.” He tells you.

You breathe out a sigh. “Oh, good. Ma will be happy to hear that.”

Neither of you move for the car door, standing there, staring at each other. He eventually starts to shake his head. “(Y/n), I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

“It’s too late for that.” You tell him. “We can talk about it more later on, in a few days.”

Coriolanus reaches for the car door, motioning for you to go inside first. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

You don’t move to get inside. “Thank you for being such a good friend to my brother.”

He tilts his head. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“You’re the only piece of him I have left.” You shift on your feet, “I have to thank you.”

--

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

[from-izzy]

double a decade | tbz kim sunwoo

Double a decade—no, more than that. 

​PAIRING » tbz kim sunwoo x gn!reader (proofread twice! lmk if i missed anything!)​ TROPE/AU » ​childhood friends to lovers, non-idol au!, holiday season au! (starts a little bit from christmas up to new years!) GENRE​ » it's so fluffy like wow...i'm not going to write something so fluff for sunwoo for a while after this, a tinge of angst, SUNWOO AND READER ARE BOTH IDIOTS, sunwoo thought his love was one-sided, very shy kim sunwoo, sunwoo being very cute and patient to the reader, reader is sick and sunwoo takes care of them uwu, they platonically share the same bed, big spoon sunwoo who is physically bigger than you and holds you to sleep, MUTUAL PINING REEEEEE, a ton of hugs from kim sunwoo because he's so...ugh, reader blushing cause of kim sunwoo, sunwoo giving his jackets that're oversized for you to use (ahhhh) WORD COUNT » 5760 ESTIMATED READING TIME » ~21 mins WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!) » reader is sick with a fever (if you're actually sick, please isolate yourself!), kim sunwoo being a shy idiot, one swear word (but cuts through halfway)

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

my last story for 2023! looking forward to the new year! happy 2024 everyone!

thank you for reading and screaming with me @winterchimez, @heemingyu and @mosviqu !! you three were so chaotic 😭 like ally really whipped out my government name, i couldn't tell whether sana was mad at me or sunwoo, and bar was...yeah...uhm...yeah!

(i suffered so much with the banner, i need to stop looking at it now)

Even you found this situation absurd.

How could something so beautiful cause you to have tissues and wet towels lying around your heating body? It’s bittersweet to know that the things that made you enwrap in the layer of heated and weighted blankets are the same ones every year that fall nicely from the hues of orange and red sky. Maybe it’s the headache or the jealousy as you hear the excited shrills of the children outside the window having fun and throwing the cold ball of death to each other’s faces. It’s probably also the fact that you’re at the time of your month, the cramps around the underside of your stomach in addition to the scratchy itch on your throat that makes swallowing hard. 

In the end, this year’s Christmas has been wasted and you could only cry under the sheets alone, convincing your parents not to enter as you knew they had to return to work as soon as the holidays ended. You truly regretted your past naive and idiotic self for making a snow angel without proper winter battle clothes. The effect took a massive toll on your body, especially with the amount of hours you have been working and the stress of it all. The way you spent Christmas was lonely as you looked down to the ground floor where your family gathered, a warm blanket slouched on your messy, unwashed hair. The distance between your pout and their smiles wasn’t too far but because of your dying voice and their charged voice, even your mother could barely hear your Christmas greetings.

But, there was someone in your life who still barged into your highly contaminated room with his raccoon loverboy beanie and matching handmade raccoon scarf that you gifted for him this Christmas. Even with your refutes and arguments, he just shrugs, refusing to let you spend the holiday season time alone. 

Every year has always been the same at this time of the year. From when the clock strikes midnight when the jingle bells ring from the city hall up to your room, up until around noon, you would spend it with your family. From noon, when you and your best friend would be amazed at how the snowman still kept its shape up until around dinner time, you would be all over the neighbourhood with him. Then cues the opening of gifts underneath the green tree with ornaments from your grandparents’ age, the smile plasters on everyone’s faces as choruses of ‘thank you’s would be said. Three hours before Christmas day passes, you would retreat to your room, only to have a visitor open your door, the pile of snow between the strands of his hair making the wood of your floor a tripping hazard.

Every year has always been the same for you both and Kim Sunwoo is determined to make sure that it would still be that way. The boy has always made every single Christmas memorable from the day you both were in diapers to now. He made sure that Christmas this year isn’t wasted and he proves that solidly.

Now, another day of fighting begins as you pray for your fever to die down in time for the approaching new year. Contrary to your wishes, your whole body feels like it’s been shut down, feeling too effortful to even raise a finger despite it lying on your bed for the last twenty hours.

“Sunwoo…” The tears well up in your eyes, wishing that you could at least pick up the phone to hear his stories about the day. 

“I got you!” 

The door clicks open to reveal his toothy, mischievous smile. In one hand, a filled fabric bag is held as the other fist punches the sky eagerly. If you could, you would’ve chucked all the layers of fabric to the ground for all you care, clinging onto the boy like a koala. He understands the thoughts roaming in your head as soon as he sees the way the ceiling light highlights the sweat on your forehead and the moisture around the bottom of your eyes. 

The once-upturned corners of his mouth dipped and so did his shoulders. With his free hand, the door closed quietly. He slowly approaches you, kneeling on the floor beside your bed. Sunwoo takes his mittens off, tilting his head and his furrowed eyebrows match his solemn smile. 

“The new year is literally in three days and I’m still here all wrapped up like a mummy.” He unfolded one of the new towels on your bedside table, dapping the sweat away from your flushed face. “I hate this…”

Sunwoo couldn’t hide his true feelings either, missing having you healthy by his side for more than a whole week now. The night walks were now leaning more toward miserable than lonely. He misses the way you would wrap your nearest arm with his, the other hand loosely anchoring on as well as you both comment on whatever comes into your mind. It’s during those times that you would be so preoccupied with your words that the world around him becomes silent, looking down at the slope of your nose and the shape of your moving lips dearly. 

If you look up towards him, you can see the way that Sunwoo’s eyes relax and the corners of his lips lift just slightly, looking at you with utmost adore and affection. His cheeks would be red, not because of the chilly wind, but because his heart is telling him to just hold you close, confess and kiss you deeply into the night. 

It’s no exaggeration to say that the fluttering feeling in his heart, gave his body more warmth than the mittens, beanie, scarf and winter outfit.

“It’ll pass soon, don’t worry,” Sunwoo reassures you, straightening his legs and heading to your bathroom. There, he shrieks and the laugh from the joined room, where you lay in bed with a new cold wet towel on your burning forehead tells him that you did it on purpose. “I thought that was real!” His head peaks out slightly from the bathroom door with the toy cockroach in his hand, throwing it on the duvet where it conveniently plops upside down.

“I need some laughs, okay?” It only earned an eye roll from Sunwoo, who closed the bathroom door.

Your eyes widen at the familiar actions, the sprinkling of water confirming your thoughts.

“Sunwoo!” You scold him. “You can’t stay over! I’m literally sick!”

“I’ll be fine!”

These are the only words that he says, ignoring the rest of your complaints and nagging; he knows though, that it’s just because you care for his health and wellbeing.

Your lips could only form a big mountain when Sunwoo finally does exit your now sauna-like bathroom. He had his favourite raccoon onesie on, his used clothes in one hand and was supported with his chest to avoid it from toppling over his hold. A toothbrush is leisurely in his mouth, the frothing around the inside of his lips tells you that he has no second thoughts about staying over. 

“You can’t, Woo.” An exasperated sigh comes out as soon as he slips into the room. “Why don’t you ever listen to what I say?”

The toothbrush stops its rustling sound against his healthy, white teeth and you can tell from the way his hands land on the side of his waist that he has a complaint back about you.

“As if you’ll ever listen to me.” And the rustling continues with a tune of a song.

“Touche.”

There is one thing that changed from your usual sleepovers but again, you’re not complaining as it is the best choice. Sunwoo takes out the spare roll-up mattress after excitedly knocking on your parent’s room for help. You could hear how your parents are beyond surprised by the visit but you could only smile when you hear the way they scold Sunwoo for wanting to stay beside you with your condition.

For some odd reason, he was still able to walk back into your room, showing off the white fabric on his shoulder that he held, shoulder way too high for your liking as his pride replaces the gloomy atmosphere in the room.

“Make some sort of distance between you and my bed please.”

Your tone is no longer playful, almost tired and most definitely worried. Sunwoo nods, his lips pulling into a line. At this moment, when Sunwoo sets up his bed for the night away from you, you don’t realise the clench in your heart, your hand swishing over the space beside you where he would usually cuddle with you to sleep.

“This alright?” Pulling off his sparkly doe eyes, shooting you a smile that you couldn’t possibly refute. “Alright! Goodnight!” He cheers when you nod defeatedly.

With a flick of the switch, the only thing that allows you to see your covered feet is the moonlight from outside. Sunwoo is in a better position because the lower level means that your bed blocks the shine enough for him to slumber back to sleep.

For some reason, you couldn’t. Your body is still, your eyelids shut and your calm breathing would’ve fooled anyone that you were actually in dreamland. In reality, all you could hear was Sunwoo’s more soothing snores, the sudden feeling that nothing was covering you and the uncomfortable feeling of staying awake.

Your eyelids shoot open once more, staring at the lines and scratches that managed to make it there. Maybe it was a chaotic cat? Or a really strong spiky fly? Or maybe, a ghost? Continuing a questionable amount of ideas. You didn’t even realise when your body turned to the side where Sunwoo was. Without thinking much, your arm reaches for the expensive headpiece straight to the once-slumbering boy.

Disturbed between reality and dreams, his body immediately straightens up, turning his head at you. “Hey!”

“Sorry.” You did feel guilty, not knowing that your impulse actions would jolt him so much; but your laugh tells him that once again, you did plan it with some sort of naughty reason.

Like the antagonist of a scary movie, Sunwoo’s head dips down slightly, his bangs covering his eyes and his cheek rising with menacing thoughts in his head. Suddenly, he jumps over to the mattress, wiggling his fingers all over your body.

“S-Stop! Sunwoo!” He didn’t bother doing so, his heart delighted at the sound of your laughter after so long. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, you pathetic raccoon!”

“Oh, you’re really asking for it!”

It’s a miracle that none of your parents didn’t woke up after almost five minutes of different volumes of laughter. After a week or so of copping up in your room, unable to properly see your best friend, he makes his mark on the winter holiday, knowing that every time you fall sick with a fever, you’ll recall this fun memory.

“Can’t sleep?” 

He retreats to the edge of the bed, his legs dangling. Yet, he has his full focus on the way your smile gradually falls into a frown. His hands move under the blanket, finding yours. As soon as he feels you, his fingers intertwine with yours. Automatically, your thumb caresses Sunwoo’s, calming enough for him to sleep. Eyelids heavy but not completely down yet, your brown orbs observe the way Sunwoo kneels beside you.

“Sunwoo…”

“Hm?” 

“Thank you for staying.” 

His eyes widen slightly but he then lets out a small chuckle. “Just doing your lovely parents a favour.” 

“No.” He gulps at your seriousness, watching the way that even though your back is facing the natural light source, the growing waters underneath your eyelids make his other hand reach out for you, the movement shaking your tears down. “I meant in life. Thank you for staying with me another year.”

Your eyelashes fluttered, the darkness quietly enveloping you. Sunwoo just lets out a soft sigh, your words making his heart beat too rapidly for him to sleep tonight. 

“I love you.” 

There…

He rehearsed the confession in the mirror many times, different scenarios each time, a different object in his hand every time as he imagined the perfect gift that he would give if he was ever given a chance to pour his feelings into you. A part of him wishes you heard it, hoping that you didn’t keep this friendship going. 

The mattress that he worked hard to retrieve from your parents is left untouched for the rest of the night. Forget about his well-being for a second, prioritising the love in his heart. Forget about being sick if it meant being able to hold you in his arms just like all those times. Forget about your scoldings that he would only stick his tongue out nonchalantly to. Sunwoo climbs on the opposite side, his usual spot in your bed. He carefully slips his body inside, the air a thousand times warmer, almost making him wince at the sudden temperature rise that he didn’t expect.

For one last time in the night, he wipes your forehead clean, pressing a lingering kiss on the area. Your body recognises the dip of the bed, turning to the other side and hiding your eyes from the glare of the night into Sunwoo’s beating chest. Perplexed but still somewhat composed, he lets you get comfortable first, both of your hands reaching up to the fabric of his collar, tugging it slightly as a satisfied smile makes its way onto your relaxed face. 

“I love you.” 

He says once more.

“I love you so much, bubs.” 

A little bit louder.

“I love you so much but,” He rests his head on the pillow, pulling you further into his embrace with his hand curling over the shape of your head. “I don’t think I can stay beside you next year.”

Unrequited love his whole life. 

The trade-off between friendship and love is too much for him to fully digest. 

But as the years pass, Sunwoo knows that there is nothing much he can do but drown in his uncertainties. At the same time, he’s no longer sure how much longer he could fake another smile towards you whenever you were taken out for dates. He’s no longer sure how to keep his heartbeat at bay whenever you accidentally whip your hair across his face whenever he scared you, and the way your first instinct is to squish his cheeks, frown and check up for any hurt on his beautiful face. He’s no longer sure if he could hide the urge to pull you into his chest whenever your fingers would lace together even during the hot summer days.

So Sunwoo made it clear to himself that tonight would be the last time he would bask in your presence. Another unsure kiss is given to your forehead and against the screamings inside his head, he follows his heart to press one on each of your closed lids, whispering loving words that he desperately wishes you would hear. 

“I’m thankful for you too.”

True to his words, Sunwoo is gone by the early morning, the white blob on the floor is gone and so are the used towels that you have used throughout the previous day. Judging from the coolness of the sheets beside you, he must’ve left some time ago and it left a bitter feeling in your whole being when he left no note that would usually snap the drowsiness in you to an immediate deadpan reaction, or contrary a dog video that would make up want to curl up and stay in bed for longer.

Three distinct knocks on the door tell you that your mum has breakfast ready but you can’t respond as enthusiastically as you usually would. 

“You’re looking better today, actually.” The plastic tray rests on the corner of your table. The now-occupied space reminds you of last night when Sunwoo used the same space for his worn-out backpack. Satisfied with the way your forehead is no longer burning and almost back to normal temperature, the woman nods and lets out a sigh of relief. “Must be the Sunwoo effect.”

It did make you forget your confusion for a second, the corners of your slumped lips pulling to a straight line. When you were once again left all alone in the room, the loneliness was unlike ever before. The charging cable is ripped away from your device, opening the messaging app to text Sunwoo a very formal, very awkward morning greeting. Your eyes bore into the bottom left of the screen, seeing if the familiar typing icon would pop out but after around four minutes of empty wishes, the way you shoved your phone under the pillow shows how crestfallen you are with his isolating behaviour. It continued for the rest of the day, your phone never buzzing because of him even though his social media activity shows him posting a new memory to share over the internet.

New Year is around a few hours and to you, it looks like Sunwoo has no plans to change his indifference towards you. Even when Eric says he would make sure that Sunwoo sends a message to you, the only thing that changed in your messaging status with him is the ‘delivered’ to ‘seen’ sign.

“The audacity of this little piece of sh—” 

Your fingers tapped rapidly first, and the floating tiles of your keyboard pour your conflicted emotions with a dash of empty threats to him. It’s infuriating that the only thing he did was still, left you on ‘seen’ but this time, in real-time. 

“Okay, fine!”

Why are you so defeated? Frustrated? Annoyed? Irritated? Worried? Sour? Confused? Are you really going to spend the rest of the year without him? Start the new one without him? Is he really breaking the streak of watching the fireworks together and being each other’s first ‘Happy New Year!’s with a bunch of jumping and squealing? 

Is he mad because you’re the reason why you can’t watch the flowers in the sky with him this year? But Sunwoo knows that you’ve been sick! But if he is, is he so mad to the point that he's going to break the streak of being each other’s first ‘Happy New Year!’s next year because of it? But between you both, you’ve always beaten him by a split second!

“Fine! Be that way then!” If the framed picture of you both had noise sensitivity, you’re sure that it would’ve cowered away and fallen straight to the bin next to it. “Ignore me then! Go have fun with the rest of your friends! Why’d you come here and act like you cared when you were just going to avoid me like this?!”

As if the whole universe isn’t seemingly against you already, the bunny doll that Sunwoo won for you smiled sweetly from the corner of your room. The rubber material of your slippers makes high-pitched slaps and your arms snatch the poor plush by its neck, shaking it back and forth as you start to let out all the cursing in all the languages that you know to the boy in your head.

“You got it!”

You couldn’t hide the excitement on your face as soon as the claw hovers in the hole of the machine, a few seconds away from delivering the prize to your hands. Sunwoo rejoices and is proud after winning against the rigged game with only the first try. 

You try to wait patiently for Sunwoo to give it to you, but the way that your upper body bounces, and the way your slightly wavy hair goes along with the motions of your body, only makes it harder for Sunwoo to properly hand you over the gift. You weren’t doing anything special but he was so in love with you that he couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath at the way your eyes sparkle to him—it didn’t help his case that you were cutely drowning in his jacket. 

“D-Do you love it that much?”

Would it be weird if he snapped a photo of you right now? When your cheeks are smushed against the bunny’s fluffy ones? Would it be weird if he wanted to set it as his wallpaper and just stare at it all day long?

“It’s so cute!” 

You indirectly answered, putting your full attention and affection to the animal in your hands. The way you bopped your nose with its own only fuels his adoration for you and because you’re so immersed in your birthday gift, Sunwoo did manage to get the picture that he desires.

Kim Sunwoo also had it as his lock screen, hiding it within a collage of other memories—it’s the reason why he’s been so protective over his phone for the last few months.

Having had enough of giving the inanimate animal a headache, you threw it onto the floor with a huff, blowing the loose strand of hair away from your vision. All of a sudden, the tears finally well up in your eyes and you let out silent croaked sobs. The hunched-over plushie is the catalyst for your head to replay the memories in your head. With your back against your bed, knees folded to your chest and the bunny sitting on top, the outside world blurs out of existence for a while.

Everything is just Kim Sunwoo.

From the way he smiles.

To the way he drools in his sleep.

From the way he would literally hide you from the outside world, arms enveloping and muffling your cries.

To the way he welcomes the series of punches on his chest because life is too much for you sometimes.

From the way he has your mum on speed dial in case he can’t reach you.

To the way that he would hop into the car to pick you up from your solo late-night, early-morning beach walks still in his pyjamas.

From the way he knew how to comfort you depending on the situation.

To the way he wouldn’t mind submitting his assignment late if it meant that you’ll be able to sleep peacefully.

Your face flares up, recalling the light pressure of his lips on your eyelids the other night and with it, the meaning behind your tight hold on the bunny becomes something entirely different. That’s all it takes for you to rush out the front door, your mum following your rushed actions with her eyes.

“Well,” she shrugs, eyes back to the television of her favourite Christmas movie, “that happened.”

So maybe you should’ve changed to snowing boots or something more appropriate than your slippers but in your body’s adrenaline to keep your body intact for another five minutes when you would reach Sunwoo’s house.

“You’re so—ugh!” 

The crystals falling from the sky are too uncomfortable and you know that you will be bedridden for longer after this but that’s not going to be your fault. Someone else will take the blame for this and you’ll make it clear for him.

It’s only when you reach the front door, hands on your bent knees, throat dry, nose red, cheeks most probably iced due to your tears and the weather that the words all evaporate from your head. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore and with the curtain from the living room open just enough for you to see Sunwoo snuggling in the couch with his cup of hot chocolate, the feelings that you have been hiding from him amplified greatly.

You’re so mad at him but you still think he looks cute with the blanket over his head, covering his shoulders and eyes focused so much to the point the colours of the graphics were being reflected on his eyes. Changing the direction from kicking down the front door, you decided to instead gather a lump of ice into your palm, striking it against the window where his face was. 

His body jolts back but it didn’t take long for his mind to register the white remnants crumbling on the glass, window frame and sill. It takes Sunwoo less than a second to take in your shivering figure on the other side of the window and he knows he’s going to get an earful from his mum when she sees the sweet and sticky drink on her carpet.

The coat hanger rattles and almost breaks an arm with how violently Sunwoo takes two of his warmest jackets, swiftly getting ready to meet the cold and starting blizzard outside. He automatically winced when nature slammed the door open, almost stubbing his toe—but maybe that’s his karma for leaving you on read for more than a whole day without a proper explanation.

Sunwoo took his focus away from the throbbing pain, skipping down the stairs, using the spiky handrail for support as he pushed his body up whenever he went down a step lower, relaxing when his feet landed on the ground safely. It’s only been a few minutes since he stepped out of his blanket but now everything is throbbing—his heart as well for a different reason.

Seeing you still facing the window, your hair flying all over the place, your chin basically on your chest, Sunwoo realises that he hurt you badly. Maybe he should’ve just been honest. If so, then at the very least, you wouldn’t chase him out like this when it looks like you just started to feel better. 

“Hey…” his feet make cautious little shuffles, scrunching the remaining mixes of nature and ice, kind of scared for his life that you would start to (rightfully) punch him. Thankfully, he got close enough to drape his jacket onto your shoulder, zipping up the front without asking you to put your arms. If it wasn’t for the fact that he ignored you, he would be teasing and asking you about what you are mulling over. “Let’s go inside, hm?”

Sunwoo sighs at your stubbornness when you shoved his arm away, feet planted on the ground.

“Go away.” 

His heart clenches at the way you probably meant that. It included a hint of hurt, broken the unanswered questions that were swarming your head.

“I’m sorry,” Sunwoo said so softly that you could’ve missed it if it wasn’t the way you were already actively focusing on him. “So please, let’s just get you inside. It’s my fault, I’m sorry.”

His palm goes over where his heart is and the other hand gives you a reassuring press. Sunwoo knew by the way you refused to look at him despite him bending over to meet your eyes, that this was going to be tough for you to listen to him.

But Kim Sunwoo is patient.

He’s always been patient and understanding when it comes to you. When his hands reach over to envelop yours, you don’t push away how he wraps his own between yours. Your heartbeat picks up its pace when he leads your joined hands into the pocket of his jacket, his thumb gliding over your skin. The act also sends your body closer to his, finally closing the gap between your bodies, sharing body warmth corresponding to the red hues on your cheeks.

Your lips now hover over his outwear and your nose takes his scent in, enjoying breathing in the familiarity after almost two days of no contact. Sunwoo bites his lips, nervous about having you in front of him and the way you tighten your hold on his hands tells him that you have a lot to say. 

“You don’t want to spend the first week of the new year bedridden, bubs.” Wordlessly and timidly, Sunwoo just scans over your facial features, his eyes roaming about while your eyes are stuck on his zipper which is halfway done.

“Don’t call me that…” Because it clicks open the surge of feelings that you have been trying to hide from him for the longest time. “Don’t…”

You were still half awake when he said his words.

Unknowingly to Sunwoo, you heard every single word that you have always wanted to say to him. That night, when his hand wrapped securely around your waist, you had the best sleep in your life, taking a mental note to talk about the topic later on.

Only to realise that you are both idiots with your feelings.

“I’m sor—”

“Stop apologising!” 

And it sends Sunwoo into a puddle of shock and confusion when your eyes send out a waterfall. He separates his hands from yours and they fly quickly to hold your cheeks. Stutters of more apologies string out and his thumbs weren’t fast enough to keep your face dry. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry too!”

“Hey, what are you sorry about? I’m the one who left you on read!”

“I’m sorry that I’ve never told you how much I appreciate you,” you hiccup before continuing, seeing a glimpse of Sunwoo’s gaping mouth, “I’m sorry that you’ve always been the one taking care of me and not the other way around,” and you see the way he shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows, “I’m sorry that I ever make you think that I don’t care about you!” 

“Hey, no. Don’t say that, I know you care abo—”

“I love you, Kim Sunwoo!” 

To him, even though Christmas has passed, he’s convinced that it’s a miracle for him. The night when he left to stay in your house, he innocently wished upon the shooting star, closing his eyes and hoping for your health and happiness—but he couldn’t help but also wish that you would love him back even though that’s out of his control.

But what can he do when he’s only loved one person and one person throughout his whole life?

“I’m sorry if I ever made you think that I like someone else because I can tell you now that all those dates I went to only made me sure that I’m so in love with you and you make me feel like I can just be myself when I’m around you and I also feel jittery when I’m around you and—”

This is not the type of confession that he has rehearsed for.

He guides your face into his chest, still sobbing and crying. As always, your hands weakly hit him, your lips still voicing out muffled confessions to him. Sunwoo’s arms wrap around your shoulders, the other on top of it. His head dips, his lips breathing out air near your ear, resting his forehead on his arm for stability. He wants to say something, anything to make sure that his avoidance doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love you back but all he wants to do is to just hold you closer to make it clear that no one could take you out on another date.

Only he can take you out on dates now.

You sniffle, catching your breath after letting your feelings out. The hold around you makes you melt, smiling before turning to where Sunwoo is. At your longing stare, his head shoots back up in surprise, tripping over his own words at how you look at him with beady, watery eyes in adoration. Shy Sunwoo is going to be a sight that you’ll get used to quickly, noting how adorable he is with how his eyes refuse to meet yours and his lips moving without any sound actually coming through.

“I love you.” 

You repeated quieter just for him so that he was the only one who could hear the words.

“I love you so much.”

You stood on your toes, planting a kiss on his chin.

“I love you so much but,” Sunwoo gulps with how you squinted your eyes, “if you leave my side next year, I won’t hesitate to throw a snowball to your face.”

“Oh God, please don’t do that.” Mortified and shaking his head, “I’m sorry, you win. I’ll do anything, just please have mercy on me.”

“Anything?”

Sunwoo gives a series of firm, convincing nods.

“Kiss me.”

The words took a while to register in his mind and he couldn’t help the breath hitching when he realised your request. Sunwoo almost stumbled backwards, your hands tug the fabric of his pockets, pulling him back to you and reality. It caused your foreheads to lightly bump and the impact made you wince at his stupidity. 

“I-I’m sorry! I-I’m—”

“Kim Sunwoo! There’s going to be a mark there! That hur—”

A pair of comforting hands hold your jawline, tilting your face to accommodate the height difference between the two once-best friends. When Sunwoo gets a better grip on himself, he quickly dives in when your lips part, swallowing your complaints and making his dreams come true. 

Double a decade—no, more than that. 

That’s how much he’s waited for this moment with you.

When his lips would slot against yours, hugging your top ones with his before pulling away to give the same amount of affection to your bottom ones. Your noses bump into each other slightly, making the moment seem real and fun, smiling and giggling when you both part for air. Shy and kind of embarrassed with how messy and uncoordinated it is but you both know you wouldn’t want to share each other’s firsts with anyone else. 

At this moment, it’s you and him in this world.

That’s how you ended the year. Clenched fist still inside his pockets, though that didn’t stop you from folding the fabric back so that you could have your arms wrapped around his middle to pull him closer. The sky soon blooms shortly after, and the happy firing noises illuminate the night sky, beating the dull light and colour of the moon that everyone sees every day. Because of the dynamic colours, Sunwoo is able to see the shades of the celebration mirrored on your skin, finding you more beautiful than ever before. 

Though beautiful, the fireworks did make Sunwoo roll his eyes when he seemingly needed to repeat variations of “Be my girlfriend!” even though you were less than ten centimetres away from his face. He knows after your third “What? I can’t hear you” that you were playing with him, giving you pecks of his lips across your face playfully, enjoying how your laughs neutralised the flowers in the sky. 

You ended the year with the start of a kiss with your best friend.

And start the new year with a new title for your ex-best friend.

With Kim Sunwoo, of course.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿

[grossestjay]

Things I'd like to know about other writers!

I was tagged by @coreene , which is so nice thank you! (apparently i count as a writer now, nice)

not going to tag anyone this time as i am being shy

Last book I read: I am giving Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson another go. I never finished it the last time. It has it's flaws big time, and it is very of its era but it is kind of charming honestly. Last book i finished was Vile Affections by Caitlín R. Kiernan. I LOVE her short stories.

Greatest literary inspirations: honestly i have no idea. I read a variety of things, but I've never sat down and thought about it like i have with art, as i'm still new to writing as a hobby honestly. (I'm sure you can tell by my inconsistent grammar)

Things in my current fandom I want to read but I don't want to write: . . . some really intense Abdirak BDSM with emphasis on the SM like, in a Loviatar worshiping dungeon. (maybe the House of Scarlet Hooks just because i like the name. [maybe i will be writing this after all])

Things in my current fandoms I want to write but I think nobody would be interested in them but me: See above lmao. I also want to write some off the walls Gale stuff one day.

You can recognise my writing by: my partner says "you can tell you read a lot of murder mysteries growing up." so perhaps that. Also the uh, the kink. heaps of it

My most controversial take (current fandom): oof idk, there's a lot of interesting ideas in the BG3 fandom. I think i'll keep that to myself for now.

Top three favorite tropes: I love a good loyal body guard falling in love. Penetration (violent) as a metaphor for penetration (sexual). I am a sucker for the one bed thing it's a classic for a reason. Oh how will you handle when you're forced to share a space, hmm?

What’s your current writing mood (10 – super motivated and churning out words like crazy, 0 – in a complete rut): maybe 3. Life has been chaotic lately honestly

Share a random frustration: Why have my headaches been such an issue lately? rude

[mask131]

A fantasy read-list: B-2

Part B: The First Classical Fantasy

2) On the other side, a century of France... 

As I said in my previous post, for this section I will limit myself to two geographical areas: on one side the British Isles (especially England/Scotland), and now France. More specifically, the France of fairytales! 

Maybe you didn’t know, but the genre of fairy tales, and the very name “fairy tale” was invented by the French! Now, it is true that fairytales existed long before that as oral tales spread from generations to generations, and it is also true that fairy tales had entered literature and been written down before the French started to write down their own... But the fairytale genre as we know it today, and the specific name “fairy tale”, “conte de fées”, is a purely French AND literary invention. 

# If we really want to go back to the very roots of fairy tales in literature, the oldest fairytale text we have still today, it would be a specific segment of Apuleius’ The Golden Ass (or The Metamorphoses depending on your favorite title). In it, you find the Tale of Psyche and Cupid, and this story, which got MASSIVELY popular during the Renaissance, is actually the “original” fairytale. In it you will find all sorts of very common fairytale tropes and elements (the hidden husband one must not see, the wicked stepmother imposing three impossible tasks, the bride wandering in search of her missing husband and asking inanimate elements given a voice...), as well as the traditional fairytale context (an old woman telling the story to a younger audience to carry a specific message). In fact, all French fairytale authors recognized Psyche and Cupid as an influence and inspiration for their own tales, often making references to it, or including it among the “fairytales” of their time. 

# The French invented the genre and baptized it, but the Italian started writing the tales and began the new fashion! The first true corpus, the first literary block of fairytales, is actually dating from the 16th century Italy. Two authors, Straparola and Basile, inspired by the structure, genre and enormous success of Boccace’s Decameron, published two anthologies respectively titled, Piacevoli Notti (The Facetious Nights) and the Pentamerone, or The Tale of Tales. These books were anthologies of what we would call today fairytales, stories of metamorphosed princes, and fairies, and ogres, and magical animals, and bizarre transformations, and curses needing to be broken, and damsels needing to be rescued... In fact, these books contain the “literary ancestors” and the “literary prototypes” of some of the very famous fairytales we know today. The ancestors of Sleeping Beauty (The Sun, the Moon and Thalia), Cinderella (Cenerentola), Snow-White (Lo cuorvo/The Raven), Rapunzel (Petrosinella) or Puss in Boots (Costantino Fortunato, Cagliuso)... 

However be warned: these books were intended to be licentious, rude and saucy. They were not meant to be refined and delicate tales - far from it! Scatological jokes are found everywhere, many of the tales are sexual in nature, there’s a lot of very gory and bloody moments... It was basically a series sex-blood-and-poop supernatural comedies where most of the characters were grotesque caricatures or laughable beings. We are far, far away from the Disney fairytales... 

# The big success and admiration caused by the Italian works prompted however the French to try their hand at the genre. They took inspiration from these stories, as well as from the actual oral fairytales that were told and spread in France itself, and turned them into literary works meant to entertain the salons and the courts. This was the birth of the French fairytale, at the end of the 17th century - and the birth of the fairytale itself, since the name “fairy tale” was invented to designate the work of these authors. 

The greatest author of French fairytale is, of course, Charles Perrault with his Histoires ou Contes du Temps Passé (Stories or Tales of the Past), mistakenly referred to by everyone today as Les Contes de Ma Mère L’Oie (Mother Goose Fairytales - no relationship to the Mother Goose of nursery rhymes). Charles Perrault is today the only name remembered by the general public and audience when it comes to fairytales. He is THE face of fairytales in France and part of the “trio of fairytale names” alongside Grimm and Andersen. He wrote some of the most famous fairytales: Sleeping Beauty, Puss in Boots, Cinderella... He also wrote fairytales that are considered today classics of French culture, even though they are not as well known internationally: Donkey Skin, Diamonds and Toads or Little Thumbling. The first Disney fairytale movies (Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella) were based on his stories! 

But another name should seat alongside his. If Charles Perrault was the father of fairytales, madame d’Aulnoy was their mother. She was for centuries just as famous and recognized as Charles Perrault - when Tchaikovsky made his “Sleeping Beauty” ballet, he made heavy references to both Perrault and d’Aulnoy - only to be completely ignored and erased by the late 19th and early 20th centuries, for all sorts of reasons (including the fact she was a woman). But Madame d’Aulnoy had stories translated all the way to Russia and India, and she wrote twice more fairytales as Perrault, and she was the author of the very first chronological French fairytale! (L’Ile de la Félicité, The Island of Felicity). Her fairytales were compiled in Les Contes des Fées (The Tales of Fairies), and Contes Nouveaux, ou Les Fées à la mode (New Tales, or Fairies in fashion) - and while for quite some times madame d’Aulnoy fell into obscurity, many of her tales are still known somehow and stayed classics that people could not attribute a name to. The White Doe (an incorrect translation of “The Doe in the Wood), The White Cat, The Blue Bird, The Sheep, Cunning Cinders, The Orange-Tree and the Bee, The Yellow Dwarf, The Story of Pretty Goldilocks (an incorrect translation of “Beauty with Golden Hair”), Green Serpent... 

A similar warning should be held as with the Italian fairytales - because the French fairytales aren’t exactly as you would imagine. These fairytales were very literary - far away from the short, lacking, simplified folklore-like tales a la Grimm. They were pieces of literature meant to be read as entertainment for aristocrats and bourgeois, in literary salons. As a result, these pieces were heavily influenced (and heavily referenced) things such as the Greco-Roman poems, or the medieval Arthuriana tales, and the most shocking and vulgar sexual and scatological elements of the Italian fairytales were removed (the violence and bloody part sometimes also). But it doesn’t mean these stories were the innocent tales we know today either... These fairytales were aimed at adults, and written by adults - which means, beyond all the cultural references, there are a lot of wordplays, social critics, courtly caricatures and hidden messages between the lines. The sexual elements might not be overtly present for example, but they are here, and can be found for those that pay attention. These stories have “morals” at the end, but if you pay attention to the tale and read carefully, you realize these morals either do not make any sense or are inadequated to the tales they come with - and that’s because fairy tales were deeply subversive and humoristic tales. People today forgot that these fairytales were meant to be read, re-read, analyzed and dissected by those that spend their days reading and discussing about it - things are never so simple... 

# While Perrault and d’Aulnoy are the two giants of French fairytales, and the ones embodying the genre by themselves, they were but part of a wider circle of fairytale authors who together built the genre at the end of the 17th century. But unfortunately most of them fell into obscurity... Perrault for example had a series of back-and-forth coworks with a friend named Catherine Bernard and his niece mademoiselle Lhéritier, both fairytale authors too. In fact, the “game” of their “discussion through their work” can be seen in a series of three fairytales that they wrote together, each author varying on a given story and referencing each-other in the process: Catherine Bernard wrote Riquet à la houppe (Riquet with the Tuft), Charles Perrault wrote his own Riquet à la houppe in return, and mademoiselle Lhéritier formed a third variation with the story Ricdin-Ricdon. Other fairytale authors of the time include madame de Murat/comtesse de Murat, mademoiselle de La Force, or Louise de Bossigny/comtesse d’Auneuil. Yes, the fairytale scene was dominated by women, since the fairytale as a genre we perceived as “feminine” in nature. There were however a few men in it too, alongside Perrault, such as the knight de Mailly with his Les Illustres Fées (Illustrious Fairies) or Jean de Préchac with his Contes moins contes que les autres (Fairy tales less fairy than others). 

A handful of these fairytales not written by either Perrault or d’Aulnoy ended up translated in English by Andrew Lang, who included them in his famous Fairy Books. For example, The Wizard King, Alphege or the Green Monkey, Fairer-than-a-Fairy (The Yellow Fairy Book) or The Story of the Queen of the Flowery Isles (The Grey Fairy Book).

# These people were however only the first wave, the first generation of what would become a “century of fairytales” in France. After this first wave, the publication of a new work at the beginning of the 18th century shook French literature: Antoine Galland translation+rewriting of The One Thousand and One Nights, also known later as The Arabian Nights. This work created a new wave and passion in France for “Arabian-flavored fairytales”. Everybody knows the Arabian Nights today, thanks to the everlasting success of some of its pieces (Aladdin, Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, Sinbad the Sailor, The Tale of Scheherazade...), but less people know that after its publication in France tons of other books were published, either translating-rewriting actual Arabian folktales, or completely inventing Arabian-flavors fairytales to ride on the new fashion. Pétis de la Croix published Les Milles et Un Jours, Contes Persans, “The One Thousand and One Days, Persian tales” to rival Galland’s own book. Jean-Paul Bignon wrote a book called Les Aventures d’Abdalla (The Adventures of Abdalla), and Jacques Cazotte a fairytale called La Patte de Chat (The Cat’s Paw). I could go on to list a lot of works, but to show you the “One Thousand and One” mania - after the success of 1001 Nights and 1001 Days, a man called Thomas-Simon Gueulette came to bank on the phenomenon, and wrote, among other things, The One Thousand and One Hours, Peruvian tales and The One Thousand and One Quarter-of-Hours, Tartar Tales. 

# Then came what could be considered either the second or third “wave” or “generation” of fairytales. It is technically the third since it follows the original wave (Perrault and d’Aulnoy times, end of the 17th) and the Arabian wave (begining of the 18th). But it can also be counted as the second generation, since it was the decision in the mid 18th century to rewrite French fairytales a la Perrault and d’Aulnoy, rejecting the whole Arabian wave that had fallen over literature. So, technically the “return” of French fairytales. 

The most defining and famous story to come of this generation was, Beauty and the Beast. The version most well-known today, due to being the shortest, most simplified and most recent, was the one written by Mme Leprince de Beaumont, in her Magasin des Enfants. Beaumont’s Magasin des Enfants was heavily praised and a great best-seller at the time because she was the one who had the idea of making fairytales 1- for children and 2- educational, with ACTUAL morals in them, and not fake or subversive morals like before. If people think fairytales are sweet stories for children, it is partially her fault, as she began the creation of what we would call today “children literature”. However Leprince de Beaumont did not invent the Beauty and the Beast fairytale - in truth she rewrote a previous literary version, much longer and more complex, written by madame de Villeneuve in her book La Jeune Américaine et les contes marins (The Young American Girl and the sea tales). Madame de Villeneuve was another fairy-tale author of this “fairytale renewal”. Other names I could mention are the comtesse de Ségur, who wrote a set of fairytales that were translated in English as Old French Fairytales (she was also a defender of fairytales being made into educational stories for children), and mademoiselle de Lubert, who went the opposite road and rather tried to recreate subversive, comical, bizarre fairytales in the style of madame d’Aulnoy - writing tales such as Princess Camion, Bear Skin, Prince Glacé et Princesse Etincelante (Prince Frozen and Princess Shining), Blancherose (Whiterose)... 

Similarly to what I described before, a lot of these fairytales ended up in Andrew Lang’s Fairy Books. Prince Hyacinth and the Dear Little Princess, Prince Darling (The Blue Fairy Book), Rosanella, The Fairy Gifts (The Green Fairy Book)... 

# The “century of fairy tales” in France ended up with the publication of one specific book - or rather a set of books. Le Cabinet des Fées, by Charles-Joseph Meyer. As we reached the end of the 18th century, Meyer noticed that fairy tales had fallen out of fashion. None were written anymore, nobody was interested in them, nothing was reprinted, and a lot of fairytales (and their authors) were starting to fall into oblivion. Meyer, who was a massive fan of fairytales, hated that, and decided to preserve the fairytale genre by collecting ALL of the literary fairytales of France in one big anthology. It took him four years of publication, from 1785 to 1789, but in a total of forty-one books he managed to collect and compile the greatest collection of French literary fairytales that was ever known - even saving from destruction a handful of anonymous fairytales we wouldn’t know existed today if it wasn’t for his work. In a paradoxical way, while this ultimate collection did save the fairytale genre from disappearing, it also marked the end of the “century of fairytales”, as it set in stone what had been done before and marked in the history of literature the fairytale genre as “closed off”. All the French fairytales were here to be read, and there was nothing more to add. 

Ironically, Le Cabinet des Fées itself was only reprinted and republished a handful of times, due to how big it was. The latest reprints are from the 19th century if I recall correctly - and after that, there was a time where Le Cabinet was nowhere to be found except in antique shops and private collections. It is only in very recent time (the late 2010s) that France rediscovered the century of fairytales and that new reprints came out - on one side you have cut-down and shortened versions of Le Cabinet published for everybody to read, and on the other you have extended, annotated, full reprints of Le Cabinet with additional tales Meyer missed that are sold for professional critics, teachers, students and historians of literature. But the existence of Le Cabinet, and Meyer’s great efforts to collect as much fairytales as possible, would go on to inspire other men in later centuries, inciting them to collect on their own fairytales... Men such as the brothers Grimm. 

[sealacrossthesea]

ocs as horror tropes/metaphors

i was tagged by @gwynbleidd and it took me. a while. to get to it. sorry, but thanks for the tag!

i don't have ocs except ocs for a thing i'm trying to work on (every ant is a titan, i talk about it sometimes), and i don't actually have any visual references for said characters because i know nothing about editing images to make them look cool, and i don't like how i draw :') so i'll just write their names, zero context, and zero clue to their appearance :')

oh, here goes:

Morgan:

meat as horror

meat hooks and conveyor belts and cold metal. the warm eyes of a stupid animal, completely unaware of the watering mouths that await it. "cut here" lines drawn on the body, slabs of steak that bleed and bleed, unrelenting. are you hungry? would you kill to stay alive? you feel like prey, or maybe like predator. sinew is stuck between your teeth, and gore dribbles down your chin. don't chip your teeth on the bones. you feel like the top of the food chain, and don't see the eyes gleaming behind you.

Adam:

the horror of the mother

complete control over you, your complete reliance on her. you are a helpless child, and she makes every decision for you, asserting to you that she knows what's best. hysterical, emotional, even in her love for you, especially in her hatred for you. the fruit of her loins has rotted, and you cannot escape her scorn. distance means nothing if you're doomed to become her.

Joseph:

heaven as oblivion

there is absolutely nothing for you now. you are dead but not gone, you've passed on to the next realm and hit an infinitely extending wall. your fingers dissolve before your eyes, your eyes melt out of your head, your head does not exist. you are not present anywhere, and you cannot hear anything. you've dodged hell, but at what cost? this is all there is now.

Adelaide:

family as a cult

you will never need anyone else. outsiders will hurt you, aim to corrupt you and ruin you and leave you in pieces, but your family will always be there for you. everyone has the same eyes, the same smile. the same sickly yellow light cast over their skin. the same tastes, the same food that melts to gray sludge on your tongue. family recipe. hugs last too long, touches linger and sting like sunburn. don't stray too far. if you come back looking like a wolf rather than a sheep, the dogs will eat you.

Giovanni:

just catholic trauma

(tw for implications of self harm here) god is judgment. every action is weighted, every action is watched. tally marks on a scoreboard, on skin, your body on a golden scale, and you can't shed enough weight to stop it from tipping. worship isn't enough. sacrifice isn't enough. guilt lays across you in layers. blankets, sheets of snow, cling-wrap cutting off your circulation. you can't save yourself, but you can never stop trying. fire licks at your heels, a constant reminder of what is inevitably waiting for you.

Newton:

meat as horror

meat hooks and conveyor belts and cold metal. the warm eyes of a stupid animal, completely unaware of the watering mouths that await it. "cut here" lines drawn on the body, slabs of steak that bleed and bleed, unrelenting. are you hungry? would you kill to stay alive? you feel like prey, or maybe like predator. sinew is stuck between your teeth, and gore dribbles down your chin. don't chip your teeth on the bones. you feel like the top of the food chain, and don't see the eyes gleaming behind you.

okay, that's it for the ants team, and these are surprisingly accurate! again, thanks a lot for the tag! idk who to tag in return, so i guess anyone who wants to do this is free to say they were tagged by me.

[autumnalsteahouse]

I just want to say thank you so so so much to my beta @bestlifesofar for literally reading out loud and taking my abrupt interrupts so well. You’ve helped me make this fic the best version it could be,, i love u so much .. ps- my goal was to get this fic out while it’s still winter… the spring equinox is on the 21st so :) I met my goal. I hope you guys enjoy my first fic since last year !!

pairing: Jack Frost!Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

word count: 3.8k+

trope: magical wintery friends to lovers

cw: reader has a scar, hurt/comfort, gojo is 200 years older than you <3 (he literally IS Jack Frost), extreme tension, gojo saves you from death :) , vague backstory, slight angst ++ happy ending, lowkey kinda cheesy … my writing is a bit rusty

• • • <3

It’s the same reaction every time— why bother with an attempt at a real explanation? How do you stomach it every time? The same question over and over and over again?

It’s a miracle you’re still alive. No one was there to witness what happened and in all honesty, it would have been more bearable if the only gash was in a place your winter coat could hide.

Instead, a good slice across the cupid's bow scaling down the bottom of your lip to the outside of your chin was the accessory of your survival from the incident all those years ago; slightly faded but ever so visible, seeing as it had misshapen your lips– and he never lets you forget that.

Every year when the temperature drops and the sun seems like it's just out for a peak before going back to sleep, it's become second nature to be on your toes. He could be around any and every corner.

With winter being the way it was, you're questioning why you hadn’t worn a scarf out— granted the trip to the bakery just down the street wasn't a long one, but at the same time, it’s a scarf. A quick wrap around might’ve possibly saved you from the death grip of the cradling position you’d put your upper body into.

Once inside the quaint shop, the warmth hugged your body, but not your mind. The only thought after stepping in was how it was only going to feel colder once you leave the shop, especially since you’ll be carrying things; arms unguarded and at your side.

Maybe you should just tell your friends to meet you here instead of the apartment— a fleeting thought— as you go up to the memorized array of pastries behind the curved glass.

Savory and sweet, you decided. It was only a few friends but unfortunately, indecisiveness is a common denominator between the bunch.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

It took only three minutes before you were confronted with the fact that you had to go outside again. It took only five seconds before the frigid winter air rendered you defenseless.

Your sweater did absolutely nothing… and you were not above ridiculously speed-walking back;

Determination driven by desperation for warmth was what got the pace going.

But only about a quarter of the way in, there was an all too familiar whooshing sound– as if someone had skated by you that began to deter your motivation.

“Did you miss me?” you heard his smirk before you could see it, even before you could feel the chill of his presence.

A sigh escaped your body, out of a twisted type of relief or maybe it was a reaction to the man who was always colder than cold– after all this time— you're not sure which , before turning around and glancing upwards to meet his crooked smile pausing at his eyes. Those irises… the same ones that you could only describe as the frozen lake that he saved you from. Long and delicate snow white lashes bat from the bottom of his brow to kiss his bottom lashes.

“Satoru.”

His name was spoken like a hushed hope with wide eyes and an deceivingly innocent tilt of the head.

Before a vocal response could leave his perfectly blushed lips, that sinful smirk eased into a relaxed smile. His pale hand reached out to cup your jaw while the freezing swipe of his thumb lightly traced your scar, capturing your doe-like gaze with his for what felt like a little too long to be appropriate before nipping your nose between his thumb and pointer.

Such a childish act seemed to snap whatever transe the man had put you in, an unwarranted chill passed through you and the feeling of freeze burning your nose and cheeks became a bit too much to be playful.

“I'm not a teenager anymore, frost. Please don’t treat me like one.” you muttered, realizing you’d already wasted too much time on him and going around him, back on route.

Two can play that game.

“Oh, don't be like that.” he groaned, floating over to catch up before you heard the soles of his shoes hit the ground.

“I will not be speaking to you right now. We are in public.”

“You aren’t the only one who can see me right now, y’know.” he smirked, nodding his head across the street to the two bundled boys waiting by a parked car, ice skates in hand, and jaws on the floor.

“Gojo… show them something before they lose their minds.” you groaned, pace slightly slower than you’d like it to be. You didn't even need to turn your head to confirm he heard you. He was going to do it anyways— he loves kids. Always has.

The excited shrilled giggles that came from the boy’s direction tempted you, you cast a discreet glance.

A flurry of snow was wisping around the two who now had their tongues extended, catching the icy white flakes before they drifted down to the ground.

A smile threatened to break your cold facade; the joy of satoru’s magic always had that effect on anyone who was lucky enough to see it.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

He was surprisingly silent the rest of the way, even when the two of you got to the door of your place.

This was unusual– granted, the way things were left off last year were not ideal. His usual wit was nowhere to be seen.

Stepping into your place, you nearly moaned. The warmth encased you in such a way that you were tempted to toss the baked goods onto the counter, jump onto your couch, and bury yourself in the soft and coziness of your cushions. But you didn't.

You were being watched.

Instead, you set your pastries down and reached for dishes to display, still not daring to throw the man so much as a glance. He was still in the doorway, his usual chill hadn’t followed you to the kitchen yet.

Grabbing the kettle, filling it, and sparking up a flame on the stove, you get two mugs out.

30 minutes, your friends will be here in 30 minutes– that's enough time for tea.

“Your chai? Or did you want something different this time?”

The peak over your shoulder only confirmed that he hadn’t moved at all. He wasn't going to leave the shelter of the door frame, not without a little prompting.

“Green, actually. If you have any.”

A stillness filled the room and suddenly your heart took a violently steep drop.

Green was for serious things, things that required something strong and steady with a lighter tone to lift up any bad news that could have left you feeling heavy.

“And if I don't?” you falsy taunt, knowing you had a full canister waiting for moments like this.

The desire to hear his voice– even if it was for just a few more sentences– outweighed the dread of finally confronting this.

His next response came from right behind you, “Then the chai will work just fine.”

An out, he was giving you a choice to put it behind you, like it had never happened.

It's easy to feel the way he watches you reach for the recognizable tin and bring it back to the counter.

“Go to the couch, I'll only be two more minutes.” you say with a calm that could only be drawn out in times of pure panic.

It wasn't an exaggeration. You only took two minutes to get everything prepared before you carefully walked over to your couch and sat beside the man people have come to nickname “jack frost”.

“The only green tea I have is Jasmine… I hope that’s fine,” you murmured as you put the scalding mug on the coffee table in front of him.

He makes no move to pick it up, his eyes are still trained on you. Watching as you take a sip of the warm liquid, his gaze drifting to your throat as you swallow.

“Satoru…”

His eyes are now glued to where your pulsebeats.

Seeing as your first attempt to grab his attention failed, you try to casually rub the back of your neck in hopes to lure him out of his trance.

That seemed to do the trick, his crystal blues drift over your lips, before snapping back up to your eyes.

“Yes?” he smoothed over, as if the cautious energy he’d been exuding wasn't there– but it had already seeped into your bones, a weighted puddle of anxiety pooled at the bottom of your stomach.

The collected expression he was attempting to portray wasn't meeting his eyes.

“Stop acting like this and talk to me. I can’t— I won’t sit here and act like everything is okay, every time I close my eyes, I’m reliving the last few seconds before you disappeared on me. You may be okay with erasing what happened but I’m not. Gojo, either say something or leave. ”

You said it steadily, as if you ever had control of the situation. But as soon as you saw his eyes shift to a dark look of muddled despair, you felt your newfound backbone falter.

He readjusted his jaw, jutting it out to the side as his tongue goes to press against the inside of his molars before clamping his teeth together, brows furrowing with a heavy exhale, “do you know how difficult this is? To look at your face and not see that horrified look that you gave me when I let myself believe it was okay to kiss you last year?”

“Gojo wait—“

“You've brought me so much joy in this cursed life– and what did I do? Huh?”

he didn't even give you a chance to speak before spiraling further.

“I ruin it all by being selfish. That's what I was and that is all I will ever be. I didn't know how to properly handle my feelings for you so I take. I take and take and take. everything that you are– your kindness, your beauty, your loyalty, and your patience– and I assumed it was mine for the taking because I love you and I’ve protected you ever since the incident.”

Blank. Overwhelmed with feelings and racing thoughts, you’re rendered speechless. Gojo takes your slack jaw as a nonsensical cue to continue, “And the most sickening part? I wouldn't change the fact that I did it. I can’t look at your lips and not know what they feel like against mine anymore. How your scar feels against my tongue. Your pounding heart against my chest. The gasp you made… I still hear it. It's on a tempting loop whenever you're near.”

The pounding in your ears was no doubt the sped up rhythmic beat of your heart. Your eyes felt too big for their sockets, widening with the imagery he’s set.

Gojo was desperately seeking anything that would give him any sort of tell into what you were thinking… What were you thinking?

His irises were jotting back and forth and all you could focus on was how whiny he sounded. The desperation was like smoke clouding all judgment.

“what are you saying?” was the only thing that your brain and your mouth synced up with before the dam broke. “… that because you kissed me without context and I was rightfully at a loss for words— that gave you the right to disappear on me?… YOU disappeared on ME.”

Your voice never went above a shout, but you felt so lightheaded looking at the man next to you; you picked up your tea to take a sip.

“I thought I made a mistake,” he whispered.

It took you a moment to put down the mug and turning towards him, you were met with his pale profile.

“I was scared. I hadn't felt that uncertain since I first laid eyes on the moon after my death.”

The memory of him sitting you down on a plush cushion across from him on a frost-bitten day four winter’s ago resurfaces, the pang of heartbreak sat against your chest at the thought. He had made two cups of green tea and lightheartedly joked that you “might have to sit down for this one”– and he wasn't wrong.

“I thought I ruined the one connection that I have. That I trust. Yes I left; I saw something in your eyes that I had never seen before and it scared me. I didn't know what to do– and I didnt want to stick around to find out…” he paused for a moment to look at you before shaking his head and dropping his gaze back to your floor, ''I stayed out of your sight but you were always in mine.”

Anger flared up in your chest, but before you could open your mouth to spew your fire, he continued, “I hated that I had caused your disconnect to the world. You always looked like you were so happy just to be alive, but after what I had done, your eyes weren’t the same anymore. They became dull, like the warm flame behind your eyes had burnt down to it’s last ember. And I just kept thinking to myself, “I’m the reason your flame gave out.” I was having all these contradicting thoughts about how i had fucked up by acting upon my urges to make my feelings known and yet i couldn't stop thinking about how you felt against me. What could have happen… what i wanted to happen.”

Gojo took a breath and faced you– something, you acknowledged, he’d been too scared to do.

“What I'm feeling is insatiable. I want you… endlessly. I am so completely and utterly in love with you. I was scared to admit that because of how we first met. I witnessed you on your deathbed. I could see the life leave a young stranger's eyes. If I hadn't known how to treat your wound, it would have left completely.”

“And that’s why you stayed away?” You whimpered.

“I CAN'T DIE,” he all but screamed, his voice breaking at the mention of death, “but you can.”

Gojo ended in a whisper so quiet but his immortality ricocheted off the walls of your mind.

To say that you hadn’t thought about it would be a lie, but it was never at the forefront of your mind. There were times where you’d feel stuck when looking at him— like he was a painting you could stare at for hours, but it never occurred to you to think about how he saw you. Gojo Satoru saw you age and fluctuate while he is the one that is cemented— suspended in time.

It was a struggle to find the words; now that you were looking at him, looking at the way he was looking at you, the thump in your chest felt hollow, empty, but with an urgency to be filled. A deep craving that swept right out from under you to be close to him. So close you couldn’t let go.

“Sato—“

Anxiety swallowed your stomach whole as you heard the cheery knock wrap at the door.

Ah, right. Afternoon tea. The plans you had made weeks ago with your friends since everyone has been too busy to get together. The one you were preparing for this morning. Before Gojo.

In a panic, you look over to him, the urge to cry resting at the base of your throat at the thought of him leaving.

He was already looking at you with a smile that could only be described as weak.

Your Jack Frost gently patted his thighs as a departing symbol, punctuated by a tortured, “I’ll be around,” before his long legs carried him over to the window.

Nothing was said as he left your fire escape. With his departure, your words softly floated back down your throat and all the way to the pit of your stomach where your anxiety yearned for more. More things to think about, more outcomes to possibly happen. More time for the knocking on your door to get louder until you heard your phone chime.

Are you okay?

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

The tea time helped. Your friends always know how to help, whether they know the problem or not. In fact, one of your friends made an unassuming joke about how cold it was in your apartment.

“Man, did Jack Frost pay you a visit before we got here? It’s freezing! ”

Your laugh came out a bit watery, topped with a sniffle. The irony of the “joke” definitely made it a lot funnier than it was supposed to be.

Tea was poured, pastries were nibbled until only crumbs littered your plates; it was nice listening to your friends laugh and catch up on the details of the month that the group had been apart.

When the attention was brought to you, one of your friends interrupted with an apology and asked about the extra cup full of cold green tea that sat on the coffee table. you simply shrugged, remembering the joke from earlier, “I thought it might be rude to not offer Jack a cup.”

They all give lighthearted laughs but you know they’re going to text in the group chat later to make sure you’re okay— which is fine. Maybe a little bit of space will help with the back to back interactions.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

After the group left with all the hugs and warmth they brought into your home, you were left with silence, an emptiness in the center of your chest. For a minute, your head matched the quietness you were left with. Not a thought passed through your mind. You didn’t know what to do with yourself.

There were dishes in the sink. Maybe you could do those? You did insist that your friends could just leave their mugs and plates in the sink.

The warmth of the water wetting your hands ran a chill down your spine. It really was cold in your place.

Dish after dish, you slowly began to feel the loneliness creep back in. Alone. Always alone.

By the time the task was done, you’d come to the conclusion that maybe a nap would be the best way to recover from the events of the afternoon— but first, the apartment could not continue to be this cold.

Cranking up the small space heater in your living room, you sighed before moving to close all of your opened windows. First, the two in the living room, then the one in the bathroom and finally, the one in your room.

You had your door closed in an attempt to shield your friends away from the tornado that swept through your room— from the sprawled out papery that littered your desk, to the intimates that were scattered on your floor, following your unmade bed— but when you opened it, everything was… sorted.

Your window was closed with the space heater on, already gearing to warm up the place.

Your bed was made neatly, your fluffy white comforter looked as soft as a cloud and so did your pillows.

Your desk didn’t have its usual mess of pencils lying around and the papers sat in a neat pile near the corner.

Your underwear that had been on the floor was nowhere to be seen.

“I uh-“

A scream ripped out of your throat faster than you could process.

There was Gojo, sitting in your reading chair, looking almost sheepish as he waited for your recognition to kick in.

“Satoru– what–”

“Okay wait–”

“No! Fuck, I thought you were gone! Like you weren't coming back–”

“I said that i'll be around!” he argued, standing up from the chair but not making any moves to get close.

“And my room? You just decided to come in, uninvited and clean?”

He looked confused, granted, so were you. Why were you yelling at him? Why were you close to crying? The state of your room had nothing to do with it.

“Darling…”

When his icy hands first touched your skin, you flinched— something he was not expecting and took the wrong way. His eyes widened, his hands recoiling while he glared at them… as if he was disgusted by himself. Your body moved before your brain could come up with a reason not to; you took his hands before they could meet his hips and cupped your cheek, nuzzling into the embrace. His thumb lightly brushed over your lips and you followed the urge to kiss it.

You maintained eye contact with him, trying to ingrain the subtle shock in his bright eyes; you wanted to remember every detail of this moment.

Your lips parted, mouth open and welcoming the gentle prodding of the pad of his thumb against the slick muscle of your tongue.

The initial surprise in his eyes turned darker, becoming more aware of what's happening and where it could lead.

With the heater going, the increasing heat of the room felt like a contradiction with Gojo in such close proximity; the warmth licking your back while your front was basking in his cold attention. With his thumb venturing inside your mouth, you closed your lips around the digit and looked up with wide pleading eyes.

His breath shuddered— it seemed like the both of you were in a trance.

You came to your senses when Gojo whispered in a tenderness you’ve never heard from him before, your lips loosened— barely waiting for him to move his hand before you pushed up on your toes until your lips pressed against his.

You've thought long and hard about how his lips had felt against your own. For the first few months, that's all you could feel, a lingering chill against your lips, but as time passed, no matter how hard you clung to that feeling, you'd forgotten.

In this moment, you swear to remember the cool silk-like lips against yours. The kiss was quick, though it still had your heart pounding like it was ready to burst from your chest. A little peck was all it was… until it wasn’t.

Gojo seemed to be a statue, frozen in place until you started to pull away, slowly redistributing your weight from the tips of your feet to the rest. Your balance wasn't sound come the following seconds; Satoru’s free arm slipped behind your waist pulling you closer to where your bodies seemingly molded into one. He cradled your face in the palm of his hand while his fingers kept you in place, leading a kiss that felt like it had been taken out of a movie scene. It was dramatic, passionate, and just a little bit clumsy– but there was a hidden emotion tangled in between your lips that didn't need to be verbally expressed, but explored as the kiss deepened.

The tip of his nose was cold as it met yours when he pulled back to pant into your mouth, to which your lips clumsily curved upward into a warbly smile.

“I’ve missed you. So much.”

[shrekgogurt]

Thanks for the tags today and sunday @hushed-chorus @artsyunderstudy @fatalfangirl @johnwgrey @basiltonbutliketheherb @chen-chen-chen-again-chen & @larkral !!!

I’m doing it! I’m posting earlier in the day (kinda)! I don’t have too much to show for myself in terms of posting anything soon. I’ve been mainly writing what strikes and a lot of it is fragments of stories to come.

For example we have this tiny exchange from my Marta Fest @martsonmars fic:

“I broke our sofa.” "Is that a brag?"

And some little nuggets of what will eventually be my COTTA because why work on more pressing WIPs or my coursework when I can dream about an AU set during the twilight of the mythic Wild West (1880s) with an Old Hollywood CinemaScope trope-y aesthetic (1950s)???

The acceptance settled over him like a weathered wool blanket—a prickly, itchy thing—but it kept him moving.

Agatha Wellbelove possessed a wealthy father, a fussy mother, and the most sought after hand this side of the tracks. You see, the sad look behind her eyes wasn’t nothing more than that. She was just sad. No rhyme or reason to it save for some loneliness.

“Now who’s the real criminal here, Snow? ‘Cause I ain’t ever killed a man.”

Of course I made a playlist for the fic (you bet your sweet ass it’s primarily Johnny Cash/Willie Nelson) and speaking of playlists, I added to the Escape to Space one too considering new plot developments! Here is an excerpt from Chapter 3 which has been blinking angrily at me to continue:

“Who’s the tall one with the face?”

I feel Baz's presence towering behind me. The awareness shimmies down the back of my neck. I have to suppress a shiver.

"Baz." I answer honestly.

"Snow..." Baz hisses, "Maybe don’t give out my identity so freely."

And finally some IKABIKAM from the vault to round it all out (this will likely be in Ch. 6…lmao have to write Ch. 5 first ooops but I’ve been stuck):

“…considering the circumstances of Prime Minister Grimm-Pitch’s death.”

I feel Simon tense next to me. This is something we never had to name as off limits. It’s a fucking given.

No pressure tag and holler at me if these are bothering you! @aristocratic-otter @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @bazzybelle @boyinjeans @bloodiedpixie @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @captain-aralias @confused-bi-queer @cows4247 @ebbpettier @excalisbury @ileadacharmedlife @moodandmist @onepintobean @palimpsessed @prettylightsbigcity @raenestee @sailorblossoms @theearlgreymage @theimpossibledemon @thewholelemon @thewriterxj @umdiasujo @upuntil6am @wellbelesbian @whogaveyoupermission @yellobb @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

Okay I really need to log off and catch up on my coursework. Yell at me if you see me being active for the rest of the night!

[xgummibearx]

Little Surprises

Sir. Nighteye x (f) reader: Winter has been long and unforgiving, but warmer days have finally arrived! You and Nighteye go to a spring Sakura festival. ((yeah yeah I know, Sakura festivals are a super campy overdone trope but in my defense I live in Canada and am just so TIRED of snow and spring in Japan typically means Sakura so…I do apologize.

(--) = insert name

_______________________   Soft pink blossoms littered the ground, covering the city parks in a blanket of petals. (--) however, was up to her ears in paperwork in a stuffy old office away from the warmth and sunshine. Her limbs felt heavy, and her head pounded from exhaustion. She rubbed her eyes, unable to remember the last time she had a decent night’s rest. Every day was beginning to feel the same, predictable. She tapped her pen on the table, everything just felt grey. “This is so dull…” She muttered, getting up to stretch her legs a little. Maybe some tea would help her recentre her focus. (--) closed the door to her office and made her way to the coffee room. There was thankfully a selection of teas to choose from, getting what was likely his tenth cup that day was Sir. Nighteye. He was discussing something with his secretary. He was writing notes quickly as Nighteye spoke without even looking up from his own binder. 

“It may upset you that we are out of oolong.” He mused, giving (--) a small sideways glance. “Here, this ginseng will be better for energizing.” He offered the box. She smiled, taking the box with a thank you. Nothing ever slipped his notice, no surprises. (--) found herself able to relate somewhat. 

“Thank you, I’m sure that I will enjoy it.” She gave him a wink as the kettle bubbled to life. His secretary gave Nighteye a polite bow before dashing back to his desk. “The Sakura trees started blooming, it was a beautiful walk on my way into the office this morning.” He took a slow sip of coffee. 

“Yes…there’s a small spring carnival downtown this evening isn’t there?” He asked. “I…happen to have the night off, if you weren’t busy perhaps you would like to join me?” His tone was surprising, it was hesitant. (--) smiled, pouring her tea. 

“I’m off at five…would you like to walk together if you don’t mind going in a suit?” She teased, making him audibly chuckle. “I think I would feel more comfortable in something less formal; I’ll meet you there.” He offered. -- The air still had a slight chill as she pulled her cardigan around herself. The warm lights strung around the trees were welcoming as she leaned on the bridge railing. There were young girls in beautiful yukata gowns, laughing as they walked together with groups of friends. There seemed to be an air of romance, awkward teen couples holding hands with bright red cheeks. Elderly couples sitting on park benches, children laughing with sparklers and colourful dango in hand. She turned to look at the sunset, lost in thought. “It’s a lovely evening.” His voice made her jump before she smirked. 

“You make a habit of sneaking up on your dates?” She asked, leaning forward ever so slightly. He turned aside, a little surprised himself at how close she was. “No, I was simply not wanting to interrupt you…you seemed to be thinking rather deeply.” She shrugged, turning back to the sunset. “So, what would you like to do first?” He leaned beside her on the railing, and this time he was closer than she anticipated. His aftershave was a subtle, alluring scent. Unusual, he never wore anything scented in the office. (--) felt a flutter of excitement and for the first time in a long time she felt like she wasn’t on auto pilot, going through the motions. With a grin she took his hand, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. That was something he hadn’t felt in awhile either, surprise. 

“Honestly if it’s all the same to you Sasaki, I want to do everything!” There was a laughter in her voice, a warmth to her face that seemed to shatter the glass that had left everything so muffled. Nighteye couldn’t help but smile, following her hand in hand into the lights and music. Sweet flavours of fried foods, she treated him to some refreshing homemade cold brew tea, not to mention the gentle smell of sakura blossoms that filled the air…it was indeed a magical night. As the moon began to peek over the horizon the two made their way over to some of the events. There were colourful stands with adorable stuffed animals, candies, lotions, all sorts of prizes to win and he did notice that an adorable pink cat seemed to catch (--)’s eye. 

Sasaki stared at the stand. It was a game, simple in concept really. Toss a one hundred yen coin into a little cup and try to get it into the golden lucky cat cup for the better prizes. He approached the stand with a one yen coin in hand. The carnie smiled, waving his hand to Nighteye. 

“Ah, another challenger? Toss your coin and test your luck!” Nighteye quickly scanned his eyes over the cups. Luck? That had to be a joke, luck had mothering to do with it, this was very obviously rigged. The cups were set into a flat plane of wood, it was impressive how well it was hidden but even without his quirk he noticed that certain cups…three to be exact. They were set a little lower, and the rims were smaller ever so slightly. With a flash of his eye, he tossed the coin. Then missed entirely. He listened to the coin hit the wood, how it sat there mocking him. He narrowed his eyes, the frustration bubbling up. Sasaki presented more yen coins, tossing over and over, a crowd had formed, some were even filming the fiasco as he tossed coin after coin. 

“Isn’t that sir Nighteye!?” Some muttered, “he’s so intense…” (--) watched with a surprised yet concerned expression. He was lifting had to have been almost the fiftieth coin, almost five thousand yen in total…when he took a deep breath and tossed. It sailed, it landed…finally sliding into the cup with a satisfying clunk. Nighteye had to use every ounce of restraint, but in his head he stood victoriously, pumping his fist to the air, finally. He had finally tossed it in…then he was presented with a pack of chewing gum and much laughter. He thanked the carnie and stared at the gum in utter bewilderment.

(--) took his arm, laughing softly. “What was that all about?” She asked. He was still staring at the gum, looking just confused. “That cup looked…like it had a smaller rim, so I thought if I got in that cup it would win you the…cat stuffed animal you were looking at it, but then I sort of just…” He cleared his throat, putting the gum in his pocket as his face turned pink. “Forgive me I have a one track mind.” (--) leaned closer, smiling gently.

“Well…you didn’t really have to do that but thank you.” She smiled softly, her hand slipping into his as they walked under strung lights. “It was very sweet of you.” She added, leaning over to place a small kiss on his cheek. Sasaki squeezed her hand a little tighter, his face still stoic as he turned away ever so slightly. 

“It wasn’t much of anything...but thank you all the same.” He chuckled, taking a moment to compose himself. Honestly he wanted to know all the ways she could steal his breath. Sasaki turned back to face her with a warm smile. “I really needed this…thank you, I don’t suppose you would like to do something like this again?” He asked. (--) laughed, moving closer once more. She thought for a moment, taking in the sights as they stepped away to the tree line.

“Promise that my answer will be a surprise?” She teased. He returned her laughter, rubbing small circles across her knuckles. “I promise.” He whispered, as they leaned against a tree. His hands for the first time felt so unsure as he wrapped his arms around her waist. (--) raised a brow, following in suit as a chilly breeze bit at her exposed legs. “You’re not cold?” He asked, his gaze trailing along her face. She shook her head, smirking. 

“No…not at all, now as for your request.” She mused, feigning a ponderous look before breaking into giggles. “Oh how could I ever refuse.” She leaned into him, resting her face into his chest as she inhaled deeply. “I would love to.” She added. He raised his hands gently as she leaned her head back.

“I’m looking forward to it…” His lips hovered over hers, she kind of liked this side of him. Gentle, and slow. Day after day she would see him hard at work, his every movement exact and calculated. It was mesmerizing, and so different from this. 

“It’s okay.” She whispered as she reached a hand to his face. The rest of the world seemed silent as they kissed below the tree, the lanterns and lights going off one by one as droves of people watched the fireworks streak across the sky. Ah yes, yet another pleasant surprise.

[babsvibes]

What are your favorite tropes? What are your least favorite tropes? I CAN DO IT, TOO, YOU KNOW!

Lmao you got me there 😭💕 Most of them are romance tropes because what can I say. Am slut for romcom 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Love love love

Bickering like an old married couple

Unnaturally intelligent pets that enact the will of god (read: the author doesn’t want them together yet, so the dog has to warm up to a character before they’ll let them anywhere near another character. Or a cat that hates everyone doesn’t hate This person)

Trapped in an elevator/snowed in/forced proximity

Denial. Any form of it. All day. Every day.

“I know you. The good and the bad. And I want it all.”

Jealousy/Possessive behavior

Idk the word for this but when two enemies grow closer while one of them is disguised. Yes like in Megamind

Not using first names except in Very Intimate Moments

Pirates. Monsters. Idk, not together but they seemed like they belonged on the same line

Belligerent sexual tension (slap-slap-kiss)

Exploration of morally gray or nuanced ethics

Stealing clothes

Loooove so much the concept of running away and its many iterations, which really is just a form of denial now that I think about it

The “oh no he’s hot” moment, which I enjoy more than an italicized “oh” moment

No Thanks (maybe I can do them in specific settings like if my friends write these, but I’ll probably never write one)

Arranged marriage where there’s no way out of it

Public humiliation as a punishment for wrongdoing

Whump fic, especially if things just Keep Happening to a character that has no agency of their own

I call it “Rebel Character in Oppressive Situation is Always Wrong.” Just any time I’m reading and a systemically under-served/POC/woman/queer character is consistently losing or being proven wrong without a win to balance it out… Blegh, throw it back

Unplanned pregnancy when it wasn’t the original plot. Like a “18 chapters in and suddenly she wakes up nauseous” situation. (although I don’t mind a “one night stand, time skip five years, gasp a secret kid the dad didn’t know about??” Pregnancy itself is just not for me)

Enemies 👏 that 👏 stop 👏 the 👏 banter 👏 after 👏 getting 👏 together 👏 will 👏 make 👏 me 👏delete 👏 a 👏 bookmark 👏 “I know you held a knife up to my neck once but now you’re my cuddly sweetie pie honey bear who could do no wrong” go to hell.

Miscommunication where it’s like “Character A is trying to say something but Character B won’t let them get a word in edge wise, so Character A gives up even though one (1) sentence would clear up the whole mess.”

[filet-o-feelings]

5-4-3-2-1

Thanks for tagging me @mammameesh and @tyfinn 💛

Rules: post the top 5 works you’re most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular).

4 current WIPs that you’re excited to release in the new year.

3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year.

2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year

1 favorite line you’ve written this year!

5 works I'm most proud of:

Everything's Too Cold... But You're So Hot

This started out as a pretty vague idea; I just knew I wanted to write a fake boyfriends story, but I loved the first chapter so much that it quickly became my most important project and I'm very proud of it, definitely my favorite thing I've written to date. Fake boyfriends stuck together through an ice storm.

Further North

This is the first long fic I've ever written, and before this I didn't think I was capable of writing anything longer than maybe 6k or so. I wrote it in about 2 weeks and I'm still kind of amazed by that. I would love that writing energy back again. Strangers stuck together through a snow storm. Clearly I have a favorite trope.

there are so many beds (how do I get you in mine?)

There was a post going around about a manufactured only one bed situation, this was my twist on that.

Rescue Mission

Everyone except Patrick is an alien. Stevie, David and Ronnie are on a spaceship. David, monitoring Earth, becomes... smitten?... with Patrick and decides he needs to be saved from the horrors on Earth. So many shenanigans. Lots of fun. One day there will probably be a follow up (it's sitting in my docs at about 300 words)

Like They Handed Me My Life, For the First Time it Felt Right

My first Schitt's Creek fic, and my first fic in 15 years... the first thing I wrote and completed in about as long. Inspired by time spent stuck in an airport and I just had to write it down. I had no idea it would lead to me writing 168k words over the course of the year!

4 WIPs:

Library Boy

This was my nanowrimo project, which I put on hold at the end of November to work on ETC... and the December prompts, based on a story told on the podcast episode of the same name of Beautiful Anonymous. I fell in love with the story and wanted to write a Patrick/David AU of it. I'm hoping to get back to it soon, it's already the longest thing I've ever written and I still have a good chunk left.

Devil!Patrick

a Stevie/Ruth companion piece to Mistakes We Knew We Were Making expanding upon their relationship in that universe

Snooze! - a sleepy!David 5+1

3 biggest improvements in my writing:

The fact that I've started writing again at all, for one!

I'm getting a little better at taking time to edit instead of just posting basically the first draft and only proofreading

I'm getting marginally better about showing instead of telling, at least trying to be more aware of it as I write.

2 resolutions:

to take more time with my writing, both editing and being more mindful about how I word things

to be willing to let go of works if they just aren't working anymore

1 favorite line:

From Mistakes We Knew We Were Making

That’s why things with Rachel have always felt just a bit to the left of right.

This took me a bit to get to and I think most people have probably been tagged in this one already, but if you haven't please consider this your tag 💛

[sttoru]

4, 6, 10 and 15 for your ship with gojo?

4. Do you have pet names for each other?

yesss!!! satoru likes to call me ‘baby/babe’, ‘princess’, ‘my sweet/sweetheart’ if hes feeling romantic :3

i like to call him ‘ ‘toru ’ as in a nickname, ‘baby’ and maybe ‘handsome’ to make him flustered hehehe

6. Who is the more dominant one in the relationship?

definitely satoru!! in every aspect LMAO like not even just in bed — he’s the more dominant one on all levels. im a person who’s indecisive nd not that confident blahblah so satoru’s mostly the ones making decisions / looking out for me. but also bcs i also suck at taking care of myself. he scolds me if i dont eat (bcs believe me i forget to eat sometimes) :p

10. What was your worst fight?

omg i think i answered a similar question like this b4 but theres this one where i said smth hurtful to satoru without it being my intention & he acted cool abt it . but then i found out he was actually p hurt 😞😞 he didnt sleep w me in bed that night bcs he thought i was still upset w him and he didnt wanna bother me any further AUGHHH i might make a fic abt this to hurt yall with me hehehehe

15. Happiest moment together?

awwwwuhmmm, we have lots and lots of happy moments together but i think our happiest was the snowy night of our confession to e/o. we have like a combined (obvious) mutual pining + friends to lovers trope — so our confession abt our feelings to each other kinda came natural & it was a bit silly & we giggled and laughed a lot when both of us realised just how obvious it was that we liked each other . plus the snow and stars in the sky made the moment so cozy and warm (&winter and snow r both my favorite things) >_< actually also writing this into a cute fluffy fic LMAO i take a lot of inspo from my own selfships

selfships asks.

[dracwife]

you must write something for 10 ; )

teehee. continued from my last drabble

10. snowed in.

"What a waste of a Saturday."

"And it just keeps getting colder."

Mickey shivers, and curls into his partners arms further, "I know a couple of ideas that might help."

Tim's quiet for a moment, but Mickey can feel the heat emanating from his face spike just for a second.

"I never said what they were, Tim. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"Mimi," his voice cracks, embarrassed.

"I'm just teasing."

He huffs. Disappointed or annoyed, Mickey couldn't tell.

"Well at least if we freeze to death it'll be together. Like you know how they found that couple's bodies in Pompeii..."

"You're very overdramatic, you know that?"

"But at least it'd be romantic, you know? Like in a weird, Shakespearean, tragic way."

"Mimi --"

"Or maybe it's an us thing. This wouldn't be the first time I'd be dying in your arms. I mean, once is an accident but twice is a weird coincidence don't you think? Maybe I shouldn't hug you anymore --"

"Mickey."

"Maybe we can make up a new term for it. Mash our names together, make it a trope. Tim-Mimi. Timimi...Timimian. What do you think? Too muddy, maybe. Needs less I's and M's, in my opinion."

"Mischa."

"Timischa, you're right, that's much better..." he pauses finally, looks up, "What?"

"The power is back."

Mickey sits up faster than Tim's ever seen him move before; He's jarred slightly by the sudden movement, and the sheet that's thrown into the air that comes down gently, covering his face.

"Wait, where are you going?" Tim fusses with the sheet, but finds that pulling at it but only tangles him further. He gives up with a frustrated groan.

"To take a hot shower, now that I can see!"

"...Right," he sighs to himself. But Mickey's voice comes muffled from the bathroom.

"Are you coming or not?"

Now, it's Tim that swears he's never moved faster.

[summersareknives]

hello ess !

that fic rec sounds wonderful im v excited to read :) my turn: paper rings by apricusapollo (zar just reblogged this rec so maybe u already saw it but it sounds so good) but for good measure heres another: 10 things i (dont) hate about you by kjms (jegulus 10 things i hate about you au)

tay time <3 i almost do, today was a fairytale, & forever & always !

chatty time!

that line about harry becoming RAPIDLY obsessed with draco will never not make me feel insane. how did jkr (derogatory) even write that it sounds like something from a fic fr.

your star converse sound so cool, i think ive seen someone wearing the same ones around and they were so cute. i love them

i love the trojan horse & the story of troy too <3 it was prob one of the first myths i learned and the rest is history. also did u know that some people thought the trojan horse was REAL? like. people in my GREEK MYTHOLOGY course. maybe thts just a common misconception or something but idk. i find it very funny

little women 2019 is SO good. i love the entire cast sm and the vibes are just astronomical.

jumanji is SO fucking funny. ill never not lose my shit at the weapons valet part its just. so dumb i love it

americans being a novelty there is SO funny. youd think that they wouldnt be here in canada but oh. they so are. i think a lot of americans (at least west coast americans where our accents are fairly similar) think canadians are like. identical to them. but that is so wrong we habitually will make fun of anyone with an american license plate up in canada.

my cats! the oldest is named pixie. (she was really tiny when we got her & i was obsessed with fairies when i was younger lol) and ive had her since kindergarten. so like a LONG time. shes a mean old lady now but i love her. the other two are siblings! theyre a few years old but still act like kittens & their names are mike and el (yes after the stranger things characters i dont wanna talk about it) which is very unfitting because the cats are SIBLINGs but the characters are in a relationship. (for the record i suggested artemis and apollo as names but was swiftly shut down. i have a family of haters)

and yes we dont get snow here. at least my part of canada. i live at pretty much sea-level on the coast so its just rain sadly. but pretty much like. every other part of canada will see snow in the winter at some point or another !

and pansy x percy? wait i kinda love that. never wouldve thought of them together but they actually sound cute.

fuck james marry sirius and KILL remus?? honestly respect. (and "mummy's got a job to do" REAL LMAO)

and omg starting with the silmarillion? that is BOLD. i havent even touched that book yet. from what ive gathered via osmosis i think it can almost be read as an encyclopedia for tolkien's world. so its just a lot. godspeed with that!

and yes. the shadowhunters chronicles is based on hp fanfic. BUT i read somewhere it was actually draco x ginny so every day i pray thats true. (hey another rarepair) but fear not the series is actually good. and theres like a million sequel & prequel series within it so you dont really have time to think about the incest .

and yes podg! the movie with ben barnes is a HORRIBLE adaptation. like its so different from the book so beware. but its still mildly entertaining bc ben barnes is gorgeous so.

"drunk procrastinator" being ur movie title is so real. cue me every weekend when i have a big paper to write or something.

and yes! cats! you should get one. they will change your life i swear.

the amortentia trope is SO good. i eat it up every time. same with the veritaserum. bonus points if theyre doing a veritaserum drinking game/truth or dare>>>

thats actually a pretty useful weird talent. running late and need breakfast? cereal.

and yes! thats a gas station order! your best friend being your chauffeur REAL. i dont drive so my best friend is my chauffeur & im the gps & dj.

poppies & lavender are so nice. i have a ton of lavender in my garden and its so nice in the summer when it blooms. hydrangeas are so pretty too. the colours are absolutely gorgeous

pluto! i love pluto sm. one of my fav planets (i refuse to say dwarf planet. shes not a dwarf in my heart shes huge) aside from maybe neptune.

and oh my god. a phone call during a funeral? the ring tone being BABY GOT BACK? idk how you survived. i would have been mortified i could never show my face again.

saxophone is so nice. sometimes all you need is some smooth jazz and a massive glass of wine or something.

answering questions time:

poutine! omg im so glad you asked me this question. in short its just french fries covered in gravy and cheese curds. a lot of people think it sounds gross/think it looks gross (it does look...questionable sometimes) but i SWEAR its so good. very good comfort food & and strangely good when you go to the movies.

unpopular marauders opinion......hmm. maybe that barty would be well suited as a ravenclaw? i know his house has never been confirmed but he canonically got 12 OWLS so the boy is SMART plus he SLAYED being the DADA prof. (not that other houses arent smart. u know what i mean) (but i still love him in the slytherin gang. they have my whole heart)

unpopular opinion about life: its okay to be weird and just silly sometimes. some people are just so caught up in being "normal" that they forget that we're all just. people. like its okay to be silly and live our lives the way we want! (maybe not an unpopular opinion but i know there are people out there that are just. really stuck up & could do well to remember this LOL)

dream car - i dont drive so IDK LOL but ive always liked colourful cars. like give me a bright red or forest green or cobalt blue car. theres a SEVERE lack of colourful cars on the road nowadays its so sad.

i havent seen the apprentice! i dont watch a lot of reality tv in general but from what youve told me about it i might have to check it out cause it sounds entertaining.

i totally believe in soulmates both platonic and romantic. like theres gonna be people you meet in your life that youll click with instantly and theyll become a part of u in a way even if you drift apart etc. like my best friend is prob my platonic soulmate. ive known her for quite literally my entire life (i think i was only a few months old when i met her) and shes literally my sister .

hidden talent: maybe not exactly a hidden talent but im really good at geoguessr ! oh also i can untie almost any knot. i guess thats more of a hidden talent. kinda useless but really handy when my converse laces arent cooperating.💪

favourite villain: prob either loki or darth vader. in a way theyre both anti-heros and i personally love morally grey characters so🫶

ive never had my heart broken! i probably internalized effy's "nobody breaks my heart" from skins too much so. i simply dont let myself get close enough to people so i dont get hurt. works every time👍

ever broken a heart: i think i did indirectly whoops. but luckily only once. long story short one of my friends liked me on & off during high school, i got confrontational while heavily under the influence and told him i didnt like him that way. he DID ignore me for the rest of the year but yeah. the rest is history. i think he came out as gay recently so. good for him!

your question time!

favourite greek god/goddess?

fav marauders fancast(s)?

hogwarts house?

fav greek myth(s)?

soldier, poet, king? (praying youve seen this trend)

one thing you cannot leave the house without?

if you were from the percy jackson universe who would be your godly parent?

top 5 albums of all time?

do you believe in soulmates?

thats all for now. talk to u again very soon🕺

-bee

bee bee bee hello i missed you n i love u <333

on god , i love these type of stories that are partly based on taylor songs . paper rings is one of my favourites on lover , so this is going into my marked for later ! & i love 10 things I hate about you too !!!! (cameron is my favourite character . HE LEARNT FRENCH FOR HER!!!) your fics recs are absolutely stellar!!!

here’s one for you - (‘unbreakable heaven by sequin haze’ - based on ‘Cruel Summer’ , ft friend-with-benefits Jegulus & trans regulus !!! )

tay tay -

i almost do - WOLFSTAR - i think of it as wolfstar because to me it’s basically sirius to remus while he’s in azkaban ‘i bet sometimes you wonder ‘bout me’. And i very much think that remus has dreams about sirius touching his face and asking him to try over again , and remus is 🤏 this close to saying ‘okay’.

today was a fairytale - JILY - i think it’s so inexplicably joly after their first date !!! ‘this magic in the air // must have been the way you kissed me’ that to me is their thoughts in canon, after they kissed for the first time on their date. (also james’s smile would so take lily to another planet , just saying)

forever & always - JEGULUS - I can just imagine james telling reg ‘forever and always’ and then reg being in his head like ‘you promised me forever’ and james going away like a ‘scared little boy’ because reg got the mark. it hurts my poor little jegulus heart.

chatting <333 -

ISN’T IT ??? the woman was so concerned about making her characters at hetero as possible that she just made them gay squared. (and the amount of people i’ve seen asking for the fic when this quote is in a tt. like , babe , no it’s from the og books .)

I LOVE MY STAR CONVERSE TOO !!! very cute indeed they’re amazing . (still my red ones beat everyone and everything >>>)

people think the horse is real ?? like do they really have that little faith in the human race?? in the middle of the war being like ‘wow there’s a giant horse at the door of my city ! this isn’t suspicious at all , let me bring it in !’ is something someone would actually do 💀💀💀. like bro no , give homer his credit.

I LOVE LITTLE WOMEN SM TOO. I watched it for emma , and i came out in love with timmy & flo.

jumanji is honestly such a comfort watch it’s one of my forever favourites.

nah americans are genuinely so annoying sometimes. like especially the piss annoying tourists , always standing in the way. like i’ve heard too many of them correct the way brits pronounce things ( honey , it’s aloominum not aluminium. STFU BITCH) and when they start talking so you talk back and ask where they’re from , why they always say ‘dallas , texas.’ like bro was giving me her gps location , why not just say ‘america’ ??? (the worst one was when i saw someone say that ‘the ancients didn’t build stonehenge aesthetically’)

PIXIE , MIKE AND EL???? THAT’S SO CUTE AND ADORABLE OH MY GOD. (i agree artemis and apollo would’ve been a fucking amazing name.your family just don’t get it.) my friend actually has a cat named pixie who is also a mean old lady!! this pixie fuckin hates me she tried to scratch my guts out once. but i think she’s warming up to me now , because she took 10seconds to do that last time instead of her usual five.

bee u live in the 1% of canada that doesn’t get snow !!! ULTRA-RARE POSITION IN LIFE ACHIEVED !!!

i never would’ve thought of pansy and percy either, but i was scrolling and came across it , and i’m a pretty open-minded girl, so i was like ‘why not’ and i was pleasantly surprised. (here’s the fic i’m talking about - ‘the secretary by pacificrimbaud’ it’s really good !! )

fucking james marrying sirius and killing remus is the most controversial decision i’ve ever made , but i STAND BY IT.

for now i’m just staring at my copy of the silmarillion willing it to become smaller. idk if my brain can handle more than like a page a month.

AT LEAST IT’S NOT RON X GINNY !!!!! maybe i’ll give it a shot one day many years in the future. it seems like there’s at least 50 books and she’s… still not done.

i’ll read the book first , then , as i always do. I’ll watch he movie , but only for ben barnes. I love him.

DRUNK PROCRASTINATOR FOR THE WIN. ( me on the roof rn trying to write my paper that was due last week. and the other one that’s due tomorrow! hopefully lu shows up soon with the monsters and good vibes!! he has no homework (he does his stuff on time) so he’s just gonna be keeping me company.)

CATS CATE CATSSS . studying with one purring in your lap sounds so peaceful !!!

amortentia trope >>>>>>> (i’m actually writing a scene in the quaffle & the snitch , where reg is dared to make james fall in love with him. like a bet movie. i’m loving it already.) I LOVE THEM SO MUCH HONESTLY !!! ‘you love me ?? you’re lying.’ ‘i’m on veritaserum you dumb fuck i’m NOT. lying.’

cereal is my go-to for breakfast, but sometimes i do get apple turnovers on the weekend with my chauffeur. (i’ll be referring to the best friend as either ‘chauffeur’ or ‘lu’ (which is my nickname for him) because typing out ‘my best friend’ is going to take forever.)

thank fuck i got the gas station order right. lu is ordered to be my chauffeur. sometimes we go on midnight grocery runs to the big tesco. (once got drunk and bought the entire stock of lurpak. thankfully there were only four tubs !! (lurpak is rich people butter btw) ) i’m the dj , which is mostly tay tay. he involuntarily knows all the words to shake it off and my tears ricochet now.

YOU HAVE LAVENDERS IN YOUR GARDEN????? THAT’S SO AWESOME ???? they look so nice but i kill a lot of plants. but maybe i’ll buy another bouquet and keep it alive this time??

PLUTO STAYS WINNING. SHE IS A PLANET. NASA DON’T MAKE THE RULES I DO.

(and the baby got back was so embarrassing it’s UNREAL. but it was lu calling to ask if i wanted pizza , so at least i got pizza ?? )

jazz and wine and a best friend to dance around the kitchen with >>>>>> life made .

reviewing your q’s . -

poutine sounds amazing , people are just haters. why do americans hate on poutine when they have ‘jello salad’ like god hates a country but it ain’t canada , sweet pea.

HE WOULD SLAY AS A RAVENCLAW !!!!! and he slayed as a dada professor too !! (but he did traumatise my boy neville so minus one point for that) (he slays as a slytherin too , because i like him to be a part of that friend group , yk?)

YES DO WHATEVER YOU WANT!!! the world would be a better place if people stopped trying to make everything the same !!

when i was younger , i wanted a pink car. now i just want lu to drive me around forever. his car is black , so unfortunately not colourful .(the lack of colour on the streets should be a crime.)

THE APPRENTICE IS SO WORTH IT !!! i love it so much it’s so funny honestly watch it watch it !! New eps every thursday (watch season 17!!)

yes soulmates are platonic and romantic!!! i met lu in primary , and i think i’d just about die if he were to leave me . like he is life i love him , i’d kill for him.

I just searched up what geogueser is , and i’ve found my new hyperfixation !!! will be updating with my skills on this later. (i wish i had your lace-untying skills. 90% of the time i’m in 70 different positions before they’re actually untied.)

‘Luke i am your father.’ that’s all for this one.

love that you’ve never had your heartbroken !!! ( I have , last year. from a girl called victoria , who’s actually kind of a dick now that i think about it. can’t believe i was crying over some random bitch. lu & monster are the only consistent things in my life!!)

nah your friend a piss-bag for being all ‘ooh you don’t like me , WELL I DON’T LIKE YOU.’ that’s rude. if he was a real one , he would’ve stayed. bro came out as gay ?? i’m waiting for his apology 🤨🤨🤨.

my q’s !! -

god - apollo // godess - artemis. i love those two a lot actually. the sun and the moon >>>>>

now , vis a vis fancasts. i love andrew & ben , not dane . i love the edits of atj , he has such a big range of scenes , and i think some of his scenes are very james ! but my default james is this guy - (search up mo malik on tt if you don’t wanna click the link , it’s the pinned video on @motheh0e account with around 8.4 mill views.)

full respect if people don’t imagine him though ! as for reiky, i keep seeing him bent over some ladies knickers , and it makes me laugh a lot . but he could be james too , definitely!! he’s not my default though. My fc for evan is hugh laughton-scott , and for barty it’s maxen danet fauvel. (ik i spelt it wrong , i’m on the roof rn give me a second) & for pandora it’s elle fanning , and for lily , annalise basso. for pete , lewis capaldi is my favourite, his character is what imagine peter to be (if peter was good ). BUT MY FAVOURITE BY FAR IS OF COURSE REGULUS BLACK AS MR TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET!!!! i live for this one. whoever fc’ed him , i wish them only good things in life.

3. GRYFFINDOR !!!!! RAHHHHHHHHHHHH. (my first one was a slytherin but i lied on a tonne of the q’s and got gryffindor on my second account so I’M A GRYFFINDOR .)

4. orpheus and eurydice kills me every fucking time man. like if he’d just waited for one more second. they’d both be alive. but he loved her too much not to look at her. (trojan horse is a close second of course !!)

5. soldier . i see everyone talking about king and poet , but where’s the stuff about the noble soldier ??? (i wanted to be king and the almighty ruler so i’m a bit pissed. might pull a macbeth.)

6.phone . (obviously, but i’ll give you another few because that was too obvious.) purse (i lost it like three times this academic year already) & my bingo tickets from three years ago in which i won a tenner (reminds me of gold times.) also my planning notebook because i get a shit tonne of ideas on a walk. OOOH OOH ALSO MY HEADPHONE . need to bop out to taylor , of course.

7. just did the quiz and got athena ! not bad , if i do say so myself !!

8. folklore , evermore , 1989 , lover & rep. (all taylor but i have other faves. but without these i’d die.)

9.yes , of course !!! i think soulmates are there , very much. for example , lu is very much my soulmate , platonic , and i’d do anything for him. absolutely anything. ANYTHING . (for reference, i’d only ever share my food with him. )

q’s for your next journey to my ask box -

top 5 albums ?

hogwarts house ?

divergent faction ?

favourite fun fact ?

soldier , poet or king ?

gold or silver jewellery?

taylor or lana ?

cruel summer vs don’t blame me.

my tears ricochet vs the great war.

favourite candle scent?

pet peeve ?

what makes you laugh the most ?

do u have a middle name ?

how common is ‘eh’ and ‘hoser’ in canada ?

(that’s all for now bee , but i shall be awaiting your reply like a wife waiting for her soldier husband to return from war. don’t die on the battlefield, bee . come back soon !)

[stillbeatingheart]

I posted 474 times in 2022

22 posts created (5%)

452 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@amazinglybeautifulphotography

@metamorphesque

@neverdust

@utwo

@lousydrawingsforgoodpeople

I tagged 338 of my posts in 2022

Only 29% of my posts had no tags

#nature - 38 posts

#photography - 38 posts

#landscape - 31 posts

#eddie munson - 26 posts

#stiles stilinski - 24 posts

#writing prompt - 22 posts

#stranger things - 19 posts

#quotes - 18 posts

#derek hale - 18 posts

#tyler hoechlin - 16 posts

Longest Tag: 87 characters

#i don't know any of these and it looks like i should add some things to my reading list

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

📝📝📝 Share 5 fics of yours that you feel best represents your writing style and talent (your resume so to speak), and then send this on to five writers who you adore 💖💖💖

Thanks for the ask @adventuresofprettyboyandthekid :) I'm excited to be adored - and it's coming right back at you (even though that's probably not how it's supposed to work, but what are rules if not to be broken for truth?) :)

This is kind of a hard one, I feel like I shuffle around my style and so many of the highest kudos fics are not really representative of my strong suits since it's typically just a right trope at the right time that decides kudos counts so I can't just cheat and use those ones. Um... I guess for my own personal preference then my best written fic is probably The World is Round and the Sky is Infinite (Harringrove). Followed closely by There's Not Much Left (Deran/Adrian). Blue Stained Glass (Gallavich) was another that I think had solid writing in it. Will You Remember Me When I Can't Remember Myself? (Sterek) is decently written. There's some chapter gems in Uneasy In This Skin (Sterek). And what do they all have in common? Angst. So much angst.

8 notes - Posted February 7, 2022

#4

The editing train has just entered the Magic is Kind of My Shtick series.  The first work, Magic Finds You, is complete!  And by complete, I mean the first chapter is an eternal mess but it gets better.  Series features: Magic Stiles, the pack lives, good Alpha Derek, full shift Derek, understanding Sheriff, Mpreg (second work), and a kid fic there at the end.  

8 notes - Posted January 12, 2022

#3

First Lines

First Line Meme

Got tagged by @ms-moonlight-inn to do this. 💕 Thank you so much! Rules: List the first lines of the last ten (10) stories you published. Look to see any patterns you notice yourself and see if anyone else notices any. Then tag some friends. ***

1. Derek leans back on his hands, planting them firmly in the sand at his back, against his butt and dug between his toes. Maybe In Other Lives

2. It’s not like Stiles wants to be here. With So Much Wrong, Let's Do This Right

3. The lights are brighter than Ian expected. You're Different, You're Allowed To Be

4. It has been a long, long, long day. Beginnings Are Awesome

5. A bag of bones with blood red cheeks, skin pale as fallen snow drawn tight over sharp edges. Uneasy In This Skin

6. Frankly, it’s been long fucking night. Death By Peanut Butter Cup

7. “No. Absolutely not. No.” Getting There

8. “I just don’t even…” Stiles takes a deep breath that shakes anyway, his hand rising to rub snot across his upper lip. Carve Your Name

9. There’s a time, a time when the bush sunflowers are in bloom. smile (though your heart is aching)

10. Stiles is knocking on the door. The Hottest Boyfriend

So the patterns:

Well, I guess there are two that open with dialogue. There are two that open with it being a long day/night. There are two that seem as though the person does not want to be there. Crying, sad Stiles is still the worst thing on the planet. I feel like I should point out that the second line of that last one is: Of his own apartment. (because he's drunk and being a fool).

I'm bad at picking stuff apart because I always feel like that's not the point, the point is to just sit down and write. Have fun. Maybe learn a few things along the way, maybe not. The only person that needs to enjoy the process is the writer, it's just a bonus if the readers do too. And it always makes my day if one of them does :)

And looking at some of these standing alone makes me wonder why anyone keeps reading, lol! I salute all of you who made it past those first lines :)

Tagging: @gnpwdrnwhiskey, @adventuresofprettyboyandthekid, @mtlyfe, and anyone who wants to play. But as always, no pressure. It's all for fun :) If you don't have ten, just do whatever you feel like doing.

9 notes - Posted February 7, 2022

#2

📝📝📝 Share 5 fics of yours that you feel best represents your writing style and talent (your resume so to speak), and then send this on to five writers who you adore 💖💖💖

Thanks @ms-moonlight-inn - it's always wonderful to be adored! We both did this though, right? I asked you first! I think... If I didn't then I somehow overlooked you, but I can't imagine that happened :)

10 notes - Posted February 21, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I didn’t think I’d have anything to post this week but I guess the good part of having about half a dozen 20k+ documents that I’ve been pouting over for months just lying around means I can pick a poison and start drinking.  

So the current poison is Maybe In Other Lives , a Sterek work that includes Derek renovating a cabin, Stiles being a badass, and soulmates in infinite lives.  Beware the canon landmines in this one.  Heavy on Derek’s awful past, the first two chapters are pretty depressing and they’re up now.  Woo hoo!

21 notes - Posted January 2, 2022

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