#<- think it is these things in my eyes feels very happy but maybe not in your eyes so im sorry if thats wrong tags

[daegall]

☆ when the candles burn out.

➷ Jeno Lee has everything he's wished for, except for you.

pairing: best friend!jeno x (implied fem!) reader

genre: bff2l!AU (WE R SOOO BACK), birthday!AU, university!AU, fluff, slight angst

warnings: none, but feel free to lmk if you find any

word count: 2.6k words

a/n: happies birthday to the (officially titled!) birthday boyyy!!! wishing him the very very best and hope that he knows we're so proud of him and love him sooo much!!!! I've missed writing sm so this was soo fun to make!! sorry if i've been super inactive, i've still got a lot to do before graduation ♡ i hope you all enjoy!!!

If he was asked, Jeno would say his life is very fulfilling, and that he's completely satisfied with it. How could he say any differently? He's doing really well in University, he's got amazing friends and a steady side job to support himself. He shouldn't be complaining.

But he's lying to himself. He knows he feels empty inside. And he knows what could fill that void.

It's you.

Jeno always felt he was missing something—he figured he would fix it later in life. He never knew it would hurt this much, he never knew it would be this hard to fix it. Frankly, he wishes it was something else that would be the glue to fix everything in his life.

It's not that Jeno hated you, no, he loved you. So dearly—he's never ever felt anything so intense in his life. Every time he looked at you, it was like he was reading his favorite book, unable to peel his eyes off the pages. Every time he heard your voice, it was like listening to the soft chirping of birds in the morning—the breeze in the afternoon—the comforting sounds of the bustling city in the evening. And when you touched him, a hug, or even something as simple as a high-five, it's as if you're a fireplace in winter, keeping him warm, inside and out.

God, he wanted you. Bad. Jeno never know one could yearn so deeply. He was never one good with words, but you make him want to write thousands of poems and sing melodies dedicated just to you.

The echoing questions that all his friends constantly ask him haunt him.

'Why don't you tell her?'

'She doesn't know yet?'

'What's the worst that could happen?'

'Why are you so scared?'

That's what Donghyuck always asks him. Jeno can't begin to tell him, he doesn't know where to start, Donghyuck wouldn't understand the turmoil he feels.

Jeno's scared that he's not what you expect. That you have a completely different vision of him than who he actually is. Jeno thinks you need someone who is able to love you loudly, who isn't afraid to give you everything that you not only need, but want, too. Jeno is sure that he's not your ideal man.

Today's his birthday. 25th. He knows because Jaemin greets him the very first this morning, calling him 'halfway-50 year old'. Jeno only rolls his eyes at his usual strange antics, pushing him out of the way of the fridge to grab his yogurt from the fridge.

When Jeno checks his phone, he realizes that Jaemin isn't the first one to say happy birthday. He finds out with a mouthful of yogurt, and a heart full of love, that it was you. On April 23, military time 00:12, you left a long paragraph wishing him a happy birthday, thanking him for everything and for being a great friend, and wishes of love and luck.

"Friends don't send birthday messages that long."

Jeno barely catches on that Jaemin is shamelessly peeking at his phone, throwing him a pointed look. "Maybe she does."

Jaemin's eyebrows raise—a deadpanned look. "She sent me a sentence on my birthday. At 5pm."

"That's cause you gifted her a giftcard for her birthday."

"That's what friends do!" Jaemin retorts. "You gifted her animal crossing—that shit's expensive!"

Jeno has to admit, he's right. About one thing. Friends don't send an essay's worth of a birthday message.

Okay, yeah, saving up for animal crossing for you took some time, but Jeno would do anything for you. And he means everything.

Like meeting up at your place for a birthday celebration with others. He would much rather spend it with only you, but that doesn't seem to be an option, considering how you love to make a huge deal about his birthday every year.

Now here he stands, at your door, knowing full well that you've planned some 'surprise' party. Despite that, he'll still pretend to be shocked—just to make you happy.

Jeno only needs to wait about 3 seconds right after he knocks, before the door swings open, the music inside finally distinguishable and—oh, it's... you. Just you.

Nobody else is seen behind you in your apartment, the familiar living area he recognizes so easily dimmed with a low, warm light, the walls filled with handing streamers of red and green—his favorite colors.

Jeno's heart has never swelled this much with love, his head has never been so clear and unbelievably messy at the same time, his practiced surprised smile completely fading in an expression of shock, his jaw hanging lightly.

"Hello, birthday boy," You grin. God, Jeno might kiss you.

The way you can't seem to stay still in excitement, the anticipation on your face and the way you wear his sweater, something he's definitely left accidentally somewhere inside there—he adores it all.

He never thought his feelings could get even more eager and heartfelt, and yet here he is, feeling it tenfold right in his heart.

"Come in," You smile, grabbing and tugging at his sleeve gently.

You want to laugh at his surprised expression, your excited smile falling shy. "Surprise! I bet you thought it was like all the surprise parties I hosted, huh?"

Jeno should have seen it coming. The fact that you saw through him almost immediately. A soft huff of a laugh leaves his lips as he nods, growing more comfortable as he ventures deeper into the surprise. His eyes trail over the streamers reflecting the warm light from your lamp, his gratitude growing almost unbearable.

Finally, his eyes land on the cake. Unlike the usual ordered or store-bought cake you make Mark Lee get every year for the party, it's sloppy, and it's clear that you made it yourself. The icing barely covers the full surface of the cake, leaving blank, splotchy spots along the cake.

"I tried my best," You comment, noticing his gaze on your cake. You really did, practicing some nights and watching multiple videos to find the best recipe to use.

Jeno grins even more his gaze shifting to you. If you weren't mistaken... he looks at you differently. Well, he looks at you as he always does, with a twinkle in his eyes and with utmost attentiveness, but tonight... it's different.

You think—and this is a big assumption—that he's looking at you with love. You could only dream that he would admit it.

"I love it," He reassures, slowly approaching you. "thank you, Y/N, I love everything about this."

Your cheeks feel sore from all the smiling, but you can't seem to stop smiling, pulling him into a hug, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders. "I'm glad. You deserve the best, Jeno."

Jeno holds you tight, his nose burying into the depths of your hair, eyes shutting to savor the moment as long as possible. His hands are warm, you can feel it through his sweater that you wear, one hand on your lower back, the other between your shoulder blades.

It's as if his hands have burnt through the fabric, because you feel every single movement his hands make. The way his thumbs rub gently up and down—the way his palms tensing up as he holds you closer—this feels better than it should.

When you pull away, the warmth finds it's way to your heart, beating faster suddenly and soaring, as if it was searching for his own to entangle in.

When you lead him to the couch to finally blow out the candles (with he candles now about a third of it's original height), Jeno has never felt happier, leaning in close to the cake.

He laughs when you suddenly panic, halting him to search for your camera.

"Why do you even need to film this?" He chuckles softly, it's a rich sound you find yourself enjoying more than you should.

You roll your eyes, finding the camera on your messy study desk, hidden behind a stack of books you never seem to finish reading. "To remember this! I want to look back on this when I'm eighty and reminisce like a stubborn old lady."

When Jeno blows out his candles after an awkward minute of you singing him 'happy birthday' by yourself, he finds himself wishing that you'd be a stubborn old lady with him. He wishes with his whole heart that he'd be there, reminiscing with you, that'd your grandchildren would be gagging at your love story, he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

Jeno gives you the first slice of the cake, despite your protests, handing it to you with a stern look. His heart melts when you take it from his hands, a small playful scowl on your lips. "I wanted you to taste it first..."

"Fine," He sighs, picking up the two forks you prepared. "we'll eat it together, yeah?"

Jeno dismisses your objections, already stabbing the forks into the cake and scooping it up. He laughs heartily when your words die in your throat, offering the fork to you.

You stare at the piece of cake on your fork with intent. "If it tastes like shit, I'm sorry,"

Even if it did, he'd pretend it was the most delectable delicacy he'd ever eaten. He would believe so, with his whole being. Even if it was bad, your stunning smile would be sweet enough for it to substitute the taste.

You're surprised when Jeno brings his own fork up to your lips, blinking in shock. When you look up at him, he gives you an encouraging look. "I'll feed you, you'll feed me."

You don't think he's aware of how intimate this is. Not when he's looking at you with such innocence and care. But with the dim, warm lighting from the distant lamp, and the music that still plays softly in the background, this feels too romantic—too real.

You go along with it anyway, knowing that you'd do anything and everything for him.

As your lips come in contact with the cake, and your teeth clash just slightly with the metal of the fork, you realize the strawberry jam you used for each layer—it's sour.

Instantly, you gaze up at Jeno, to gauge his reaction and his opinion of your cake, only to see that his mouth is closed, lips stretched into a soft, loving smile as his face his dodged from your fork.

"Jeno, you—how could you!"

In a moment, both forks are on the ground as you lunge forward to grab at his shirt. On your lips is an embarrassed smile, your eyes shut as you shake him back and forth. "You ass! I made this for you..."

"Sorry, sorry!" Jeno laughs, his hands enveloping yours, holding on top of them as you continue to shake him. "You just looked so cute—all anticipated and excited,"

"Yeah! For you to taste it!"

"Fine, fine! I'll taste it! Just stop shaking me!"

When you scowl and release his collar, his hands don't leave yours, instead, he takes your hands in his, his fingers slotting almost perfectly between yours with ease. You don't shy away from this, it's normal for him to do this. It's a typical tactic he uses so you don't start fooling around once more—but this time... it feels different. His touch seems gentler, his thumbs rubbing softly up and down the sides of your palm. You have to admit, it has your heart in a twist.

"How are you going to try it if you keep holding my hands?" You smart him, sticking your tongue out at him.

Jeno's eyes search yours, his gaze deep. It's almost as if he's trying to look into your soul—trying to find the place you keep the thought of him. He should look into your heart, then.

His right hand suddenly leaves yours, and just as you think he's about to grab the fork once more, his hand inches towards your face. You don't dodge it, despite your shock, your lips parting in surprise, and Jeno knows that he's interrupted one of your sassy, smart retorts that he loves so much.

It's like instinct when his palm envelops your cheek, that you lean into his touch, your head tilting into his hold. As his thumbs rub at your cheek, his eyes search your entire face, searching for any signs of discomfort or rejection. He searches, and keeps searching, only to find nothing. You want this. As much as he does.

"...so are you going to try the cake?"

"Give me a minute, you dork,"

You laugh, and he laughs when you laugh. Your laughter entangle in the air and echo, like a resonating song on repeat—the kind that no matter how many times you play over and over, you never get sick of it.

Suddenly, Jeno's nose is brushing against yours. His thumb gently caressing at your bottom lip. He searches your eyes once more, and at this proximity, he can finally tell what you feel. In your eyes, it's him. In his eyes, it's you. In your heart, is his. In his soul, is yours.

The tender exchange of affectionate looks screams only one thing.

I love you.

When Jeno's lips press to yours, you're not surprised. Instead, you welcome it warmly, reciprocating and leaning into it.

His hands travel, one to your neck, the other your waist to tug you closer. Your own find comfort in the hairs of the bottom of his neck, tousling the strands there. You feel his lips curl into a smile, as his neck cranes to find an angle to grow closer to you, if it were possible.

Jeno slowly and gently lowers you to your back, his hand protecting the back of your head as he settles you down on your carpet, hovering over your body. As your arms wrap around his neck, his tongue finds yours, tangling tenderly and lovingly, declaring his care and affection, all his feelings for you.

You smile against his lips as Jeno's laugh vibrates against your own, content and devoted, finding the whole situation unbelievable. Luck truly is in his favor, and he thinks he's one step closer to his birthday wish coming true.

When Jeno pulls away, his breath is warm against your lips, the tip of his nose grazing against yours.

"...tastes sweet," He finally elates, smiling. His eyes find yours, pupils dilated with love.

You laugh out, eyes squeezed shut, and head throwing back against his hand that still holds you protectively. You snort when he gives you a confused, almost lost puppy-like look. "The cake jam was sour, Jeno,"

"Oh," he hums. "must've just been you I was tasting, then..."

You push playfully at his shoulder. "Oh my god, you sappy idiot!"

"No, no," He retorts with a grin. "you taste sweet. I didn't get a single taste of sour,"

"Taste the cake, then!"

"Don't wanna, just want you,"

Despite his words, you make him taste the cake, laughing as his nose scrunches up. "It's—oh god—it's sweet! I swear!" He insists.

Finally, Jeno feels complete. He no longer feels an empty void inside of him, he no longer feels lonely or hurt when he looks at you—though he does feel his heart hurt, swelling with the amount of love he has for you. He can finally say wholeheartedly that he's satisfied with his life, that he feels fulfilled.

He's doing really well in University, he's got amazing friends, the best girlfriend he could ask for, and a steady side job to support himself and his girl, you.

Jeno is dead set on making his birthday wish come true.

[appocalipse]

Hi I would love to read what you would write based on my request: The girl is a strong woman who is stressed out by working a lot. She is the captain of a special division of the shield. Her personality is sarcastic and serious. She doesn't hide the fact that she has a crush on Bucky. At night everyone goes to Steve's birthday party, Tony organized a party with a "40s" theme, everyone dressed as they did back then. What would Bucky think when he saw YN dressed like he did in his time? Thanks!!

hi sweetheart, thank you SO MUCH for this request. this is really short but i had a lot of fun with it! ♥

Steve's birthday party is packed into the ballroom of a midtown hotel with vaulted ceilings, tall windows overlooking the nighttime cityscape, and an overhead banner proclaiming "Happy Birthday Cap!" in red, white, and blue letters. There are tables laden with food along the perimeter of the room, a dance floor in the center and probably much more than Steve was hoping for when he agreed to this, but Bucky is certain Tony has never met a special occasion he didn't want to over-celebrate.

"Hello, handsome." A silky voice caresses the back of Bucky's neck.

He's not taken off guard often. He's supersoldier trained, preternaturally aware of his surroundings at all times, so eternally vigilant that sometimes he barely sleeps.

But you...you're a menace in more ways than one.

He turns and sort of wishes he hadn't.

You're dressed to the nines in a (so help him God) red dress that leaves him scrambling for polite words, complete with ruby-red lips and shiny high heels that bring you closer to his eye level than should be allowed.

Bucky swallows around the sudden knot in his throat. He's a hard man to fluster. He's fought wars, seen things most people couldn't begin to comprehend and, modesty aside, used to get more than his fair share of attention from ladies back in the day. Yet, for whatever reason, you in your '40s version seems to have short-circuited something in his brain.

"You..." He clears his throat. "Uh...you clean up nice."

Nice? Is that the best he can do? You, in your victory curls and bold lipstick, looking like you belong on a silver screen, and he says nice?

"Why, thank you," you say.

"A real doll." Maybe that's better.

Your eyes widen at the compliment like you weren't expecting it, and now Bucky is feeling a little proud of himself.

"Where did you find this outfit?" He's glad he asked, because he gets to watch your eyes light up when you smile, all wide and excited in a way he'd never have associated with your much more professional Captain persona.

"It's amazing what you can find online nowadays," you spread your arms, twirl, and he's pretty sure that, if he hasn't made a fool of himself yet, he probably will soon. "What do you think? Am I authentic enough for this shindig?"

"Oh yeah. Authentic as they come." He gives you an exaggerated once over and then leans in to whisper conspiratorially. "You look like a pin-up."

"Do I? Would you buy my picture?"

You tilt your head back to look up at him with the prettiest eyes Bucky has ever seen. He shrugs. "Doll, I'd buy a whole calendar."

You giggle at that, giggle. The sound of it wraps around Bucky's heart and squeezes. You're too much, more siren than woman, he's convinced, smiling up at him like you know exactly what's going through his head and are thrilled by it.

"Now, now, don't tease."

"Not teasing."

Your hand has crept onto his arm (his flesh-and-blood one, even). "Steve says you used to be quite the ladies' man back in the day."

"Yeah? What else did he say?"

"Just that you're actually very sweet under all this grump and that I shouldn't give up just yet."

Maybe he's not as good at this as he remembers. He doesn't recall ever having a woman making such blatant advances while he sputtered like a fish on land...but it is nice to feel wanted. He really hopes he's not blushing like a kid.

He flashes you his most charming smile. "And are you? Giving up, I mean?"

"Oh no, Sergeant." Your smile grows even wider, and Bucky is willing to bet he's not imagining the tiny gleam of triumph in your eyes. "Not even close."

He groans inwardly.

[fic-girlie]

Safe Enough With You

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: While taking shelter in an old cabin during a snowy patrol, you and Joel find yourselves confronting more than just the cold. In the quiet, between firelight and unspoken feelings, Joel begins to let his guard down - and maybe, just maybe, surviving turns into something more.

Warnings: angst, fluff, happy ending? kinda

A/N: This is my very first fanfiction that I wrote, so excuse any mistakes please. Also, English is not my first language.

Snow had started falling around noon, fat and slow, covering the trees like soft blankets and what made the world feel paused. No trace of infected, not thinking about anything. Not thinking about how the world has gone into an apocalypse in just one night.

By the time you and Joel found an old cabin, your hands were stiff even though gloves were covering them and your breath came in white clouds. The place looked abandoned – sagging roof, roots curling over the crumbling  walls, – but it was shelter. And for now that was enough. For both of you.

The door groaned when Joel pushed it open with his shoulder. He stepped inside first, his gun raised, ready to shoot and protect you, eyes scanning the dark interior. You waited behind him, watching the way he moved around the cabin – steady, quiet, controlled. You’d seen him like this before. Focused. Dangerous. Alive in a way most people only were when they were scared. But you… You weren’t scared. Not with him.

“All clear,” Joel muttered, lowering his weapon. “Looks like no one’s been here in years.”

You stepped inside after him, the wood creaking and broken glass crunching under your boots. The cabin was small – one room, a little fireplace in the corner, the remains of a couch that has seen better times torn to pieces by rodents or time. A few metal pans and plates were scattered across the dusty floor. The whole place smelled of damp wood and decay, but there was no rot. Just the cold that seeped into your bones.

Joel moved to the hearth, kneeling down to inspect it. “Think I can get a fire goin’. I saw some dry wood stacked outside.”

You nodded, dropping your backpack. “I’ll grab it.”

He shot you a glance – brief but still full of all the unspoken things he always carried. You sure? Stay close. You returned it with one of your own. I’ve got this, don’t worry.

As you stepped outside the wind immediately blew into your face, making you squint and pull up your hands to shield your eyes. Quickly you stacked up the woods and went back inside.

The snow had started falling heavier too by the time you were inside your arms full of wood. Joel was arranging kindling, the sleeves of his jacket rolled back just enough to show his forearms. When he struck the match, the orange glow flickered against his face – lines and shadows dancing across his cheeks.

It was only once the fire had taken that the cold began to ease out of your bones. You both settled near the flames, quiet again. Always quiet, lately.

You glanced over at him. He was oiling his rifle now, methodical in every motion. He usually did this on patrols when he couldn’t sleep. Something to keep his hands busy when his mind was too loud to handle.

“You ever think we’ll stop running?” you asked softly.

He didn’t look up. “Ain’t about runnin’ anymore. We’ve just gotten good at survivin’.”

You nodded, staring into the fire. “Yeah. But surviving is not really living, is it?”

Joel paused. The silence that followed your sentence was heavier than before, like your words had found something raw. When he finally looked at you, his eyes were tired. Not the kind of tired sleep could fix. No. You knew it. The kind that lived in your bones.

“I used to think that was all there was left in this world,” he said. “Survivin’. Doin’ what needed to be done. Didn’t matter if it hurt like hell.”

Your breath caught, just a little. You’d seen the hurt in him – the way his jaw clenched when Ellie joked too much, or how he always seemed to be preparing for the moment everything went wrong again. You scooted a little closer to the fire, close enough that your knee brushed his. He didn’t pull away.

“But what if there’s more than that now?” you asked. “What if we’re allowed to want something else?”

Joel turned the rag in his hands slowly, folding it once, then again, playing with it. “Wantin’ something don’t mean you’ll get to keep it at the end of the day.”

You reached over and gently took the rag from his hand, setting it down with the rifle. He didn’t stop you. “Maybe not,” you said. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth reaching for, even if it slowly slips through your fingers.”

He let out a quiet breath, and for the first time in weeks – maybe even years – his shoulders dropped a little. Like some of the weight had loosened. Like he needed to hear these words. You watched the way the firelight played on his face, softening him. He always looked different in moments like this – unguarded, real.

“You carry too much Joel,” you whispered. “You always have.”

He gave a dry laugh, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Yeah, well. Somebody’s gotta.”

“Not always,” you said softly. “And definitely not alone.”

As these words slipped out of your mouth Joel looked at you, really looked. And in that silence, something shifted between you.

“I ain’t good at this,” he said. “Letting my guard down. Letting people in. Trustin’. Feelin’. It’s easier not to.”

You reached out, gently brushing your fingers against his. “I know. But you don’t have to be good at it. You just have to try.”

His hand turned under yours, fingers curling around yours with a careful kind of strength. Like he was afraid you might vanish in a heartbeat.

“I’ve lost too much already,” he admitted softly.

You nodded, your heart aching. You knew he was talking about Sarah. “So have I.”

His gaze dropped to your joined hands, rough calluses against your skin, but the softest touch. He stared for a long moment, and then he said, softer than before, “But I don’t wanna lose this.”

Your throat tightened at his confession. “Then don’t.”

Joel shifted, and you moved with him, until his forehead rested against yours. The world beyond the walls of this cabin melted away – the snow, the infected, the grief, the fear. All that remained inside was this quiet moment, this fragile thing that had taken root between the cracks of survival that both of your life had become.

He kissed you, slow and uncertain, but honest and full of love. You leaned into it, hand coming up to rest on his cheek, feeling the stubble scrape your palm. He tasted like fire smoke and something else, something warm. He held you like you were a secret he didn’t want the world to find, fearing it would take you away.

When you broke apart, he didn’t pull away. You stayed close, breathing each other in, the fire popping gently beside you. You reached out and tugged the old blanket from your pack, spreading it over the floor near the fire. Joel looked at it, then at you. You offered him a small and comforting smile.

“We should sleep,” you said.

He nodded. “Yeah. We probably should.”

But neither of you moved for a while. You just stared at each other.

Eventually, he lay back on the blanket, stretching out beside you, his arm tentatively draped around your shoulders. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath the layers of flannel and guarded silence.

Outside, the snow fell thick and quiet, burying the world in white.

Inside, for the first time in a long time, you both allowed yourselves to rest.

Not just survive. Not just fight.

But rest.

And maybe that was enough. For now.

[lightreader1]

Fanfic idea- Drunken one night stand

Prompt: Both Chuuya and Atsushi have a very good night~

Notes: So not gunna lie I have been craving a more saucy ChuuAtsu story lately and his idea kinda popped up in my head a few months ago so I decided to actually write out my thoughts as a break before I continued writing for ChuuAtsu day. 

Hope y’all like it and don’t judge me too harshly on the bad grammar lol

Actual idea- 

(For context I like to imagine that Chuuya and Atsushi have never formally met or have seen each other’s pictures, so yea they have no idea who the other is or their job) 

So the actual idea is very simple, I imagine that the point maybe during a birthday party or other special occasion Atsushi gets drunk for once. Of course everyone is having a good time and making sure things are fine but at some point while Dazai, Yosano, and Kunikida are having a drinking contest they kinda lose track of Atsushi. 

Though when they start to freak out Rampo assures them that Atsushi is fine they just go back to enjoying the party.

Coincidentally Chuuya is getting drunk at the place and meets up with drunken Atsushi. 

They actually hit it off really well while drunk. Atsushi thinks that Chuuya is unfairly pretty and wants to get to know him more and Chuuya finds Atsushi to be all around adorable with his wide pretty twilight eyes and warm smile. 

They eventually head back to Chuuya’s place and l won’t go into detail but Chuuya definitely makes that tiger purr~ 

———————————————

I imagine that Atsushi is the first to wake up and is suffering a bit from a hangover but is overall feeling an odd feeling of happiness and embarrassment at waking up in this strangers bed after doing things~ 

So like the adorable but kind man he is he goes through the trouble of making sure to get Chuuya some water and medicine to put at his bed side and starts making breakfast for the man. 

Of course he only has a bit of time before going back to work so he writes a small note and leaves it next to the medicine  for Chuuya. 

He basically says a thank you for the wonderful time they had and apologizes in that self conscious way you imagine Atsushi to do since he’s not a very “experienced” partner.  He leaves his phone number hopes with a little “hope you you don’t have a bad hangover” side note. 

Then he leaves the apartment to go to his and Kyouka’s shared apartment so he can get showered, changed, and off back to the ADA.

—————————————

Meanwhile a few hours later Chuuya wakes up with a killer headache and some very fuzzy but fun memories of being with a very beautiful man. 

Of course he looks over in his bed and as expected the guy left as is one night stand behavior. 

Though what he doesn’t expect is the thoughtful little note with medicine, or the nice little breakfast waiting for him at the table. 

Honestly this combined with the slowly growing memories of his one-night stand make’s Chuuya really want this to be more then a one time thing~ 

So he sends a few texts and Atsushi texts back~

—————————————————

This goes on for at least a couple weeks with some very nice nights until one day there is a fight that’s supposed to go down with the Port mafia and the ADA are trying to contain things before it gets too violate.

Which ends up with Chuuya and Atsushi actually meeting up with each other while working. And suffice to say both of them are shocked and didn’t expect this to happen. 

Atsushi grows worried that he’s broken some sort of rule and doesn’t want to get either the ADA or Chuuya in trouble so he tries his best to avoid Chuuya while trying to act normal (even though he’s a blushing stuttering mess when asked).

Meanwhile Chuuya is pissed at first of the thought of Atsushi taking advantage of him before he realizes that the guy had no idea about his identity and doing his best to do some sort of damage control for the both of them. 

Which is cute.

So of course Chuuya being Chuuya, instead of hiding or avoiding Atsushi just decides to flirt with Atsushi the entire time. 

Because this is a new but very adorable side to his lover that he wants to keep exploring, and he’s not afraid of the possible consequences. 

He's already decided that he wants this adorable tiger and he’s prepared fight to keep him~

[briarberrythornedhart]

The first bite is with the eyes, and then you are hooked

“You know your problem?” She says.

“I’m aware of a few.” Eddie snarks and then snaps a pretend bite at her when she shoves his arm with her hand playfully. His teeth snap in the air and she grabs his chin. She’s never afraid of Eddie.

“You think you are an acquired taste.” She continues her lecture. “You think you have to work hard and do people favors and plant these… likeability seeds to be appreciated for who you are. You take care of people so you can feel worthy of affection. But I have a secret for you…”

Eddie is happy to listen to her speechify. He enjoys her voice in his ears. It’s like honey and her gingery warm teasing tone is delicious. All of her is edible. Unfortunately.

They’ve been friends since she rescued his ass and he only wishes it was …more than just that.

“Tell me the secret.” Eddie puts his hand to his ear. “I’m all ears.”

“You, Eddie Munson, deserve the world.” She said. She spread out her arms to emphasize this. “You are worthy of all the affection you crave.”

“Shut up” Eddie says softly. Not wanting her to stop.

“You don’t have to drop everything to go pick up Gareth because his motorbike stopped working again and he hates riding the bus. I think it’s lovely that you do, but you don’t have to do it to be Worthy of being loved. And you don’t have to pretend to like musicals just because I want to watch them a lot….”

“Hey, I genuinely liked the one last Friday, whatever it was called.” It had something about a tobacco farm and a leprechaun. It was bananas.

“Noted. And you aren’t personally responsible for the safety and happiness of every little nerdy kid in the Tri-state area. And…” she looked down. “…you don’t have to go out with Cassandra Finnegan just because she came crawling back to you again.”

Eddie laughed in surprise nearing shock.

“Nooooo, you got the wrong idea, sweets. She’s not ‘crawling back’. She just asked if I wanted to meet for coffee. She is probably wondering if I am still selling and wanting to buy… yeah. No. Um I’m pretty sure.” Eddie was legitimately confused now. He decided to make a joke, “ Uh-unless you’re saying she got a taste of my lovin’ so very long ago and can’t get me off her mind, and the coffee is just a veiled request for a hook up in the coffee shop bathroom? Doubtful, but there is a first time for everything.”

“It’s not that veiled, Eddie. It’s standard procedure to start with coffee and see what happens. But she waited 3 years and ALSO until your name was cleared to call you up…”

“Which is reasonable. She needed to know I wasn’t the murderer. Why don’t you want me to meet up with Cass? What is it? Worried that she’ll want to meet up all the time and I won’t have time for movie nights and thrift store shopping and new release day and Hellfire? Even if you are right about ‘coffee’, and I am not convinced, she’ll get sick of me soon enough.” Gals always did. “She’ll remember why she broke it off the first time, and nothing I say will persuade her Eddie the Freak is worth keeping around. She can do better.”

“No! Eddie. That’s the thing. you can do better than Cass. You belong with someone who doesn’t need to be persuaded you are amazing. They just Know It. Someone who liked you seriously right away. Who gets a taste of you and it stays in their system. So they won’t get sick of you, no matter what.”

“I don’t think that person exists. No one is jonesing for this.” Eddie gestured at his body. “No one is lining up to put up with me…”

“I would.” She interrupted. And Eddie’s eyes snapped to her face to look for clues she was teasing - found none. “Maybe you would put me in the back of the line, but I’d queue up. Always.”

Eddie licked his upper lip. “I’d put you in the front. Always.”

Eddie held her gaze, cocking his head to the side and waiting with his breath trapped in his chest. It didn’t feel like ‘just friends’ talk.

“Want to go out for coffee?” She asked.

Eddie smiled - maybe smirked.

“Can we go right now?”

She grinned back and nodded.

[lilliezzzzz-fics]

Mario Karting

including: alex albon, yuki tsunoda, dino beganovic, lance stroll + isack hadjar author's note: blame my mario kart addiction for this <3 also finally writing for dino, which is great because i love him, but also means i have a chance to include swedish in my writing! hooray! reader is gn, no use of y/n <3 warnings: mentions of food (yuki). minor swedish dialogue (dino), i think that's it? just fluffy ! word count: 1.3k (200-ish each)

★ Alex Albon

he always—and i mean always plays yoshi

if anyone else tries to take him from him, he gives them the dirtiest glare

whenever he and you play against each other, somehow one of your pets always end up in the way

either sitting in his lap or yours, or maybe even sitting in front of the screen somehow

then, when he makes his kart he does speed > acceleration > grip > handling > weight

his favourite cup to play with you is the lightning cup

he gets to first and then gets red shelled like twice in a row and falls down the pack to like 7th

gets so, so stressed but he hides it well, just lets out a heavy sigh when the race is over

he's very competitive too―he probably uses all his items on you whenever you're in front of him

lets out such a laugh when you get mad at him

it's the funniest thing ever according to him

although, if you get above him he gets very happy because you seem very proud of yourself

probably complementing you with a smile on his face

but when you threaten to steal his seat at williams he takes it all back

“Mate, that's just not fair, now is it?” Alex exclaims, his hands gripping the controller.

“What happened?”

“I just got fucking red shelled twice!” He groans, “I swear, like, they're targeting me or something.”

You laugh at him, softly bumping his shoulder with yours, “maybe you're just bad.”

“Take that back!”

★ Yuki Tsunoda

i think he'd play like tanooki mario or baby mario

his karts always priorities speed over all else, less weight too―he probably doesn't have too much acceleration on them though

he loves the shell cup, he is actually godlike at moo moo meadows

and he is so incredibly competitive, like he starts kicking you whenever you get too close to his character―ending up in a semi-brawl against each other

he's surprisingly strategic too, like purposely falling back a little to get the bullet, then getting to the front with mushrooms and just dominating

takes it super seriously. it's his life on the line, actually

oh and he makes sure to have snacks for you two ready 

dried fruits, chocolate, chips―pretty much anything that you want, he has on the table

even homemade snacks if any of you are craving them

though he denies that he made it for you, for his pride, he insists

he actually screeches whenever he gets hit by a projectile, blabbering curses to whoever threw them

even at you

but in the end it's all just in good fun, he never actually gets mad nor do you

except when he throws a blue shell when you're in front, of course

then it's over for him

“Haha!” Yuki grins as he flies to the front with his items.

“How did you get that?!” You pout, eyes still locked on the screen, watching as he passes by you with a golden mushroom.

“Strategy, obviously. You're just not Mario Karting on my level.”

★ Dino Beganovic

he mains koopa troopa for no reason other than “he’s funny”

and his favourite cup is the egg cup, he just really likes dragon driftway

talking about drifting

he is actually incredible when it comes to drifting and doing tricks

he never misses a singular one, and you have zero clue how he does it

it’s like magic or something

but he also gets terrible luck when it comes to items, and he’s not particularly good with them either

the number of times he's either a) thrown a bomb and proceeded to drive into it, and b) thrown a green shell that just ends up hitting him couldn’t even be counted on two hands

not only that, but he fumbles or gets shelled so much

it’s kind of pitiful, like you feel so bad when you see his number just fall from 1 to 3, to 4, and even 6

and he doesn’t rage much, but when he does he rages in swedish

he does refrain from doing so majority of the time, but it is fun to witness

either way, when you do start to feel bad when he falls down the pack, it usually doesn’t stay that way long

somehow he always manages to climb back into top 3

it gets irritating sometimes, however, that never lasts because he just looks so pretty when he’s proud of himself

give him a little victory smooch for me, please <3

“Men asså! Din jävla—ugh, gud…” Dino groans as yet another shell flies into him, “Jag svär om det kommer en till-”

There’s a brief pause, and you can’t help but snicker at Dino’s dramaticism.

“Calm down, it’s not like it’s the end of the world.”

“But it is!”

*translation 1: "oh my! you fucking—ugh, god..."

*translation 2: "i swear if there's another one-"

★ Lance Stroll

he’d main rosalina, maybe? or maybe lakitu or shy guy—any one of them

his favourite cup by far is the flower cup, mainly because first off, it’s not too intense

and secondly, he just thinks it's cute

whenever you play, it’s usually very casual—you mostly play on either 100cc or 150cc if you’re feeling a little competitive

the two of you just laze on his couch with your limbs entangled, eyes trained on the screen and just having fun

it’s genuinely very sweet 

he never really rages at mario kart either, he doesn’t take it serious enough

although whenever he wins or gets top 3, he does get happy (even though it is almost every race that he does)

just this silly cute grin plastered on his face

especially when you’re also winning with him!

just smiling softly while saying, “did you see that drift?”

and you just smile back

he’s so cute!!! how could you not?

The two of you are sitting on Lance’s couch, in his living room, your head resting on his shoulder, your eyes glued to the screen as you drive around the Mario Kart racetrack. 

There’s only you, him, the TV, and the game's sound. It’s comforting, warm, and Lance’s heartbeat is a steady rhythm beating by your ear.

“Ooo! Did’ya see that?” he murmurs against your scalp, his voice is soft—barely audible as he presses a soft kiss against your head, “that drift was insane.”

“I’m sure it was.”

★ Isack Hadjar

he’s a toad main, and i feel like further elaboration is unnecessary

playing mario kart is basically him driving f1, it’s life or death for him, and he will play as competitively as possible

in a boyfriend™ way, of course

the two of you play on 150 or 200cc at all times, always fully locked in

his favourite cup is also the triforce cup because he thinks it is hilarious when you either fall off the map or something

(he gets mad when he does, though)

when you get too close, just like yuki, he will kick you 

it’s all fun and games, though! he only does it when he knows you don’t mind

oh whenever he sees you in front and he just happens to have a projectile—he throws it immediately

just to see that grumpy expression 

he genuinely just says something like, “tough luck, babe” and laughs

karma is a bitch, though, and like ten seconds after you see him fly past your screen but backwards because he got hit by lightning and then red shelled

he also swears in his mother tongue, like yelling because this game is broken! 

afterwards, the two of you make up with a soft exchange of kisses and watch youtube, muttering truce? truce.

A wave of pride washes over you as you see the number in the corner turn into a one as you overtake Princess Peach for first place. You let out a triumphant yes! and the exact moment you do, you hear a mischievous laugh from Isack.

You feel doom approaching as you hear how a shell approaches. 

“You are fucking with me, Isack! Seriously?”

“Blame the game, not the player.” He laughs.

©lilliezzzzz-fics: please don't copy or distribute my work on any platform

[panerasbox]

—Plaid Shirt Days; 15 Days To Go

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x fem!Reader.

Genre: Angst.

Word count: 1k+

a/n: very angst heavy. the last 5 oneshots were fluffy, sorry 🫣 if you’re not a swiftie and don’t want to listen to the song, some of the lyrics are in the fic :) I love this one, even though I hurt my own feelings writing it. TW: captain robinson or whatever his name is 🙄

@schemmentisimpasours here it is 🫠

30 DAYS OF MELISSA SCHEMMENTI MASTERLIST

The last time you really saw her was three months ago.

And somehow, her perfume still clings to your skin like it doesn’t know how to leave either.

and I know it's long gone and that magic's not here no more and I might be okay, but I’m not fine at all

The staff lounge smelled like burnt coffee and everything unsaid. You were gripping your chipped mug—your mug—but it wasn’t doing a thing. Not with Melissa standing across from you, arms crossed, jaw set just a little too tight.

“It’s not the right time,” she said. Quiet. Like she meant it. Like it hurt.

“Maybe in another life.”

And you call me up again just to break me, like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest

Then came the line that stuck like a splinter:

“Age is a number, sure. But it’s one I can’t ignore.”

Kid. She used to say it like a joke. Now it felt like a verdict.

The idea you had of me, who was she? a never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you

You stood there, trying not to show how hard you were breaking. She just kept her distance, measured and cool. Said you were too young. Said maybe it could’ve worked, if things were different. If time had bent in your favor.

Maybe.

It did more damage than a flat no ever could.

Because maybe meant it had been something. That those long nights together—the quiet ones, the ones filled with soft laughter and softer touches—were real. The way she looked at you in the dark. The way her voice dipped when she said your name. The way she undressed you like she was afraid and brave at the same time. It wasn’t just casual. It meant something. To you, at least.

But it wasn’t enough. Not for her to stay. Not enough for her to try.

You didn’t cry then. Not while she was still watching. You held it in like it was your job. But later, in your car, hands clenched around the steering wheel, her name echoing in your chest—maybe broke you open.

Time won't fly, it's like I’m paralyzed by it, I'd like to be my old self again, but I’m still trying to find it

Now it’s spring. Everything’s blooming, waking up. Except you.

She walks the halls like nothing ever almost happened. Like you never pressed your mouth to her collarbone. Like she never whispered your name into the space between your ribs. Sometimes she’s with Captain Robinson, his hand on her lower back like it belongs there. Casual. Familiar. And it burns.

When she passes you now, there’s nothing in her eyes. Not even that flicker of recognition you used to live for. Just a nod. A professional smile.

You match it. Smile back. Pretend.

But inside, everything’s still wreckage. You hear her laugh down the hall and it pulls the air from your lungs. Because you know what that laugh sounds like pressed up against your skin. You know what it sounds like when she’s happy. With you.

And now? You’re a stranger. A memory she doesn’t seem to want.

It wasn’t a breakup. There was no title, no status to end. Just a slow fading. Just a future erased before it could start. She took the possibility and shut the door, left you standing in the silence afterward, her touch still mapped across your body.

And the silence after? It’s louder than anything.

You think about the moments she never let happen. The texts she left unsent. The confessions she swallowed. That one night after school, when she looked at you like maybe she’d say it—stay—and then didn’t. And you’ve been trying to get out of that moment ever since.

Do you ever cross her mind?

Does she ever think about the way you fit together? The way your fingers tangled in her hair like you had forever? The way you loved her without asking for anything but honesty?

Or does she just keep telling herself she did the right thing? That pulling away made it easier?

Because it didn’t.

She didn’t protect you. She just left you behind with all the things she was too scared to feel. And worst of all? She’s fine.

You’re the one left behind in slow motion.

The one walking through each day like it’s just something to survive. The color’s drained from everything. Coffee doesn’t taste like anything. Nothing feels right. Because she took something with her when she walked away—something you don’t know how to get back.

You go through the motions. Lesson plans. Laughter in the hallway. A smile that looks right but doesn’t feel like yours. No one sees the wreckage underneath.

After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own.. now, you mail back my things and I walk home alone

You used to know who you were before her. Before those late nights and plaid shirts and the sound of her breathing in your ear. Before she looked at you like you were hers and made you believe it.

Now? You’re trying to remember who that person was.

You think she disappeared the night Melissa kissed you like it meant everything—

and left like it meant nothing.

Just between us, did the love affair maim you, too?

The flannel from that night is still folded in the back of your drawer. You haven’t touched it since. Thought about throwing it out. Couldn’t. It’s all you have left. A stupid, physical reminder of something unspoken and real.

Everyone says time helps. But time hasn’t touched this.

Because this wasn’t just a fling.

This was the kind of love that felt inevitable.

And she let it go like it was a mistake.

You’re still standing in the aftermath, trying to rebuild something out of thin air.

You almost had her.

And then she let you go.

I remember it all too well

Melissa’s POV

She told herself she was doing the right thing.

Cutting it off clean. Before it got too far.

But it was already too far. She was already in. And she still feels your skin against hers when it’s quiet enough.

Autumn leaves falling down, like pieces into place & I can picture it after all these days

You show up in her thoughts without warning. At stoplights. During parent meetings. When she’s stirring sauce in her kitchen. That laugh. That voice. That look in your eyes when you were wrapped around each other like you were trying to hold the world together with your hands.

And I know it's long gone and there was nothing else I could do, and I forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to

Robinson doesn’t make her feel that way.

He’s fine. Safe. Predictable. And that’s the problem.

You weren’t safe.

You were real.

You saw through everything—her sarcasm, the hard edges, the walls she built brick by brick. You never flinched. You never asked her to be softer. You just… let her be. And that scared the hell out of her. Because she let you see the parts no one else ever gets.

Runnin', scared, I was there, I remember it all too well

She meant it, about the age. But not because you weren’t ready.

Because she wasn’t.

Not for the way you looked at her. Not for how you made her want things she’d stopped letting herself believe in.

You were all in. And she didn’t know how to match that.

So she told herself she was protecting you.

But really, she was protecting herself. From what it could’ve been. From what it already was.

I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here cause I remember it all

She remembers the last night with perfect clarity.

The way your hands moved like they’d always known her.

How you whispered her name like it was the only word you trusted.

The way you looked at her afterward—quiet and sure—like there was no question about what came next.

And she walked away anyway.

Now, when she passes you and you won’t even look at her, it’s worse than anything she imagined. Because you used to look at her like she was worth it. And now?

Now you don’t look at her at all.

She wants to say something. But what?

I was scared. I still am. I miss you. I shouldn’t, but I do.

She keeps her mouth shut. Keeps her feet moving.

Keeps choosing the safe path—

even though she left her heart behind on the one that led to you.

They say all's well that ends well, but I'm in a new Hell every time you double-cross my mind

[eldulcopatato]

LOVE ISLAND: THE CREATOR CHAOS VILLA┊GEORGE CLARKEY

summary: As the final day approaches, the villa is thick with tension, unspoken feelings, and quiet reckonings. Conversations are careful, glances linger, and a long-awaited heart-to-heart finally happens.

previous / next

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Chapter 9: “The Last Choice”

The morning sun hit the villa differently now. Softer. Sadder, maybe. Like it knew the end was coming too.

You stood on the balcony with your coffee, watching the garden stretch out beneath you — quiet, save for the occasional hum of bees and the clink of a spoon against a mug. Below, Josh was already shirtless and pretending to stretch. Arthur and Malia were talking on a lounger. Jenna walked past them without a glance.

The voice came before breakfast.

“Islanders. Tonight will be your final recoupling.”

Your stomach dropped.

“The couple you form this evening will be your final couple. Tomorrow, the public will vote for the winning pair. Make your decision wisely.”

The villa froze.

Then came the whispers. The scrambling. The paranoia.

You walked down into the kitchen and found George already there, mug in hand, leaning against the counter.

His eyes met yours for a second — soft, unreadable — before he looked back down.

“Morning,” you said.

“Hey.”

It was civil. Barely.

Then Jenna entered, followed by Josh, already chirpy. “Final recoupling, huh? Bit intense.”

“Very,” Jenna muttered.

Odessa slid into the kitchen too. She looked tired — like she hadn’t really slept. Her eyes flicked between Malia and Arthur, who were now on opposite ends of the villa again. No one knew what was happening there. Maybe they didn’t either.

“Think anyone’s actually happy right now?” Odessa asked no one in particular.

No one answered.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Conversations that day were clipped, loaded. Like everyone was speaking in code. Josh tried his best to integrate — he joked with Arthur, offered Jenna some watermelon, but the mood was off. Tense.

You saw Malia whisper something to Arthur behind the daybeds. Odessa caught it too. She raised her brows at you, silently asking: again?

You shrugged. No answers. Not anymore.

Even Josh approached you later, asking, “Is it always like this before the final?”

You just smiled weakly. “Not usually. But this year’s cursed.”

He laughed. “Reckon I picked a bad time to walk in.”

You didn’t disagree.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

By afternoon, the sun burned hotter. You sat alone by the pool, trying to think. And maybe that’s why you didn’t hear George coming until he was already next to you.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

You blinked, heart ticking faster. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

You walked past the pool and through the open sliding doors until you found a quiet corner by the entrance hallway. Still within sight — but far enough to be alone.

He leaned against the wall. You stayed standing.

“It’s weird,” George started, voice low. “Being here. With you.”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“I keep thinking how different things could’ve been if we just… talked. Before.”

You bit your lip. “I wanted to. So many times. But I didn’t know if you even wanted to hear from me.”

George shook his head, laughing without humour. “That’s mad. Because I was thinking the same thing.”

Silence.

“Guess we both kinda… ghosted each other, huh?” you offered.

He looked up at you then. “Yeah. And I hated it. Every time I saw your name pop up on socials or whatever, it just— it messed with my head.”

You stepped closer. “I hated it too. I hated not knowing where we stood.”

George ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t come on this show to see you. I didn’t even know you’d be here. But the moment I saw you in the villa, it was like… something just flipped. Like my brain short-circuited.”

You laughed softly. “Same. I spent the first three days avoiding you.”

“I noticed,” he smiled. Then, after a pause: “I should’ve apologised earlier. For not reaching out. For just leaving it like that.”

“I should’ve too,” you said quietly. “We both messed it up.”

He nodded.

“And now?” you asked, finally looking at him — really looking.

George sighed. “Now I’m just tired of pretending I don’t care.”

Your heart skipped.

“I care,” he said. “I’ve always cared. And it’s scary as hell because I don’t know what you want, or if this even makes sense, but I can’t keep avoiding it.”

You stepped forward. “I care too. That’s what makes it terrifying.”

He chuckled, eyes meeting yours. “So we’re both terrified?”

“Yeah.”

A beat passed. Neither of you moved. The air thickened.

“I want to try,” he said. “Even if it’s messy. Even if it’s confusing. I just—”

The villa speakers blared.

“Islanders, please make your way to the firepit immediately. Tonight’s final recoupling is about to begin.”

You both froze.

Then George laughed under his breath. “They hate to see us finally talking.”

“Yeah, they do.” you smiled.

As you walked side by side back into the garden, the tension in your chest felt lighter — but the anticipation ahead felt heavier.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

word count: 1,6k

[jailuvz]

heyy!! i saw that you're taking requests, so i came to ask for some friends to lovers confession with sunoo or ni-ki (because i'm starving for more sunoo and riki content)

“I’m in love with my best friend…” with Kim Sunoo | FLUFF

synopsis - you and Sunoo had been friends since you were kids; both of your families would tease you two about getting together one day but ofc, like any kid, both you and Sunoo would find it weird and “yucky”. — But what happens when one day you realise your families were right…and to make it worse, insecurities hit as you think he doesn’t like you back 💔.

Requested by @wondoras !

Fit: K.Sunoo x gn!reader | P.Sunghoon (as Y/n’s brother); Sakai Moka (as Y/n’s friend from school)

Genre: Fluff & angst (a tiny bit) with a happy ending ! cw: friends to lovers AU; non-idol au; wc: 1,1k;

Warnings: visual appearance issues on Y/n’s side and slight !body dysmorphia! (daily reminder you’re beautiful <3)

Note: hii, this is my first time writing a fan fiction so it might not turn out the best but I hope you enjoy !! <3

You don’t even know how it all happened, all you knew is that you had a crush on your best friend, Kim Sunoo, and you also knew that you don’t stand a chance with him. — Or maybe you do..?

You knew him since you were a child and since then, you two became best friends who would literally hang out almost 24/7. Your parents thought that you two were so undetachable to the point they thought you’d end up together, but you found that both impossible and gross, as you’d say “I would never fall in love with my best friend, he’s like a sibling to me, yuck !” and Sunoo thought the same about you.

Well here you were, sitting on your bed, stressed and scared that you might lose your best friend, if you decided to confess while Moka was sitting next to you, trying to convince you to do it as she would always tell you: “Hun, he’s literally obsessed with you, his eyes light up when someone mentions your name” but you thought she was just seeings things, because there’s no way he likes you back…Right?

The next day was like any other school day, except you were trying to avoid Sunoo so you could lose feelings somehow, but ofc that didn’t get unnoticed by him. When it was lunch time, you were looking around the cafeteria for any trace of him and decided to sit behind a big group of students, so he wouldn’t see you. But the universe had the bright idea to go against you that day, because Sunoo managed to find you and sat next to you.

For about 5 minutes none of you said anything and just ate in silence, until Sunoo got fed up and decided to talk to you. “Mind telling me why are you, all of the sudden, avoiding me?” You almost choked on your food when he asked that.

”I’m…I’m not avoiding you Sunoo, I’m just….busy?” you told him as you awkwardly laughed (great one Y/n, that was totally believable to Sunoo, I’m such an idiot)

Sunoo scoffed at your response as he didn’t believe you. “Y/n….I’ve known you since we were what? kids..? So I know very well how you are when you’re busy, now pls tell me, did I do smth to you to avoid me?” he said as he genuinely looked really upset about the fact of him ever hurting you. Sunoo knew you always end up giving up and tell him all your thoughts and secrets, but you couldn’t let him know that you love him…what if he finds you weird and leaves you? or worse, he leaves AND tells your families, you just know Sunghoon would tease you for the rest of your life as he was the one who told you that you’d fall in love with Sunoo and ofc you denied it EVERY TIME. (and now you hated that he was right in the end)

You sighed as you knew you had no choice because in the end, you’d end up telling him at some point. “I’m avoiding you because…well..I like you, but not as friend, more than a friend, but I was scared to tell you as I don’t think you’d like someone like me romantically because you know…I’m not that good looking, I don’t like how my body looks, a-and you always thought of me as your sib—“ at this point you didn’t even notice you started rambling until Sunoo cut you off.

“Alright, ok…first of all, calm down honey…you started talking way too fast for me to understand you, plus you were getting out of breath, sooo pls breathe for now, thank you; – second, you’re absolutely GORGEOUS, both your face and body, so I don’t know which little demon got inside your pretty head of yours and made you think of yourself that way, but I’m here to tell YOU” he says as he dramatically points a finger at you, making you giggle at him “yes you cutie, I have been in love with you for quite a while as I always found you to be the cutest person in the entireee world, not to mention your amazing and sassy personality, I mean you quite literally match my freak, anywayss…you got absolutely nothing to be scared of, I like you too, a lot actually.” he shyly giggles after confessing his feelings to you while you stare at him dumbfounded. Kim Sunoo…likes me back?

“W-wait, you actually…like me back??” you asked, unsure if you heard everything right. He sighed then smiled at you lovingly. “Yes Y/n, I like you back, I actually wanted to ask you out on a date this week but I’m glad I am able to do this sooner…so, do you want to go on a date with me?” he asks you as you stare at him for a few seconds until it finally clicks you, he just asked you out on a date. Your best friend asked you out on a date, you honestly thought you were dreaming but then looked at him again and realised all of this was real, he actually liked you back.

“I would love to go on a date with you Sunoo, I’d go on every date with you” you told him as you gave him a big, warming smile. His eyes lit up and then he hugged you, making you yelp in surprise as you hugged him back instantly. “You don’t understand how happy I am right now, going out with my soulmate that I knew since I was a child” he said to you softly while letting go of you and looking at your lips for a second and then asked you smth that made you feel warm thru all your body.

“Can I…can I kiss you?” you blushed at his question as you knew he was not a fan of pda, but nodded as you still wanted to kiss him. Sunoo smiled at you and leaned in; and wow you were shocked, the kiss felt like you were kissing a warm cloud, his lips were so soft as he always makes sure to moisturise them, and they tasted sweet too with a hint of mint, safe to say, you were already getting obsessed. (who wouldn’t ><)

Sadly the kiss had to end as you two heard the school bell, indicating you to go back to your classes, so you pulled away and looked at each other for a bit till Sunoo talked. “I love you cutie” (and you were lowkey freaking out on the inside but you gotta get it together, quite hard with him around </3). “I love you too” you say as you both started giggling and walking back to your classes while holding hands as now you were officially both best friends and a happy couple <3 (how cute)

Note: I honestly had fun writing this even if it’s my first time, but I’m willing to get better, so thank you for the request <3

[bbuzz28]

Memories

Old man Fiddlestan, my beloved-and what's this? It could be semi-canon compliant :O ?!?! Woof- this is one of the saddest things I have ever written. I know some of you gremlins (affectionate) love that sort of thing, but I don't. I like really really don't. This is my comfort ship, so I don't even know where this came from other than trying to figure out how they *could* work in canon. Truthfully though, I prefer my Fiddlestan heavy on the comfort when it comes to the "hurt/comfort" genre. This is my only “angsty” (i.e. no immediate happy ending) Notes-app fics, so don't get used to this level of sad from me lol.

“Stan?” an oddly familiar voice called. Mr. Mystery, Stan Pines, glanced up from the flyers he was organizing and found that Old Man McGucket stood in the doorway of his front door. The last tour of the day had just left, it was dinnertime, and he was exhausted. Stan rolled his eyes as he unfurled his tie, wishing Soos was still there to escort the crazy old man off his property. No matter what he did, the old hillbilly always managed to find his way back to the Shack. “Sweet Moses McSuckit, what are you doing in here? Shoo, scat, or whateva will get rid of ya.” Hearing no movement, he looked at the man again and found he was standing erect. His blue eyes were the clearest he had seen them in no less than a decade.

          Wait, what did he call- oh. Oh no.

“Stan…ley? Did I…did I do somethin’ wrong?” the other man asked, his hands twisted in knots in front of him. Memories flashed through Stan’s mind; Ford falling through the portal, Fiddleford finding him passed out in the lab, working together to bring Ford home again…being together. Being happy. They had been happy, if just for a little while, hadn’t they?

Then there was the cult, and his discovery of the damn memory gun that had finally ruined everything they ever built. He took a hesitant step forward, a thousand thoughts roaring in his mind at once. “Fidds? Wha-what do you remember?” A bandaged hand snaked up and rubbed over the faded scar on the side of his head “I…don’t rightly know. Did we…I think we had a fight? I just woke up in the…in the dump. N’ I don’t have any shoes. Do ya know why my arm is in a cast?” Fiddleford looked so lost.

Stan knew in his heart that all of this was fleeting- “clarity” would hit Fiddleford every few years after he had finally wiped his mind of himself. Almost like his brain was trying to jumpstart itself back together. The first time they thought it was a miracle but…it didn’t last. It just started a trend that would follow them both for the next almost thirty years. Fiddleford would seemingly “wake up” and be lucid for a few weeks in the beginning, then eventually only a matter of days. It had been so long since the last time that Stan would wager, they only had maybe a few hours together if he was lucky.

The last time Fiddleford was himself…they had fought. Stanley thought he had figured the only way Fiddleford could stay; he needed to remember. Remember everything he had ever forgotten. At the time, Fiddleford had been unwilling to try. He didn’t think he could handle it; he knew he had forgotten what he had for a reason.

Stanley had gotten as close to begging as he ever had in his life since surviving Tijuanna, and when it had no effect…Stanley had told Fiddleford to leave and never come back. He had left that night, and by the next day he had faded away again. After a while, Stan thought his last words had been the final nail in the coffin that was Fiddleford’s mind. He carried that weight along with every other mistake he had ever made. But here he was. Fiddleford. His Fiddleford.

He took a deep breath before he opened his arms up. “Hey, don’t worry, it doesn’t matter. I’m right here.” Fiddleford rushed through the doorway, melting into Stanley’s open arms. “I went away again, didn’t I?” Stan could feel Fiddleford’s tears soaking into his chest, his own whispering at the edges of his eyes. Yes, and you will leave again. You will leave me and I will be alone all over again, you fucking asshole. “Hey cowboy, didn’t I just say not t’ worry about any a’ that? You’re here now, n' that’s what matters. You’re…you’re home.” A haggard laugh vibrated through the smaller man’s chest into Stanley’s own. “I know I keep tellin’ ya, tellin’ me not t’ worry is like” “…tellin’ a fish t’ stop swimmin’; I know Fidds, I know.” Fuck was really the only conscious thought that went through his head as he held his one-time lover. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, again.

Fiddleford looked up, eyes wide and searching Stan’s face. “How long do ya think we have?” Stan shook his head, unwilling to lie even if it eventually wouldn’t matter because he wouldn’t remember. You’ve always been the only person I couldn’t lie to. “I dunno, it’s been…a while. Probably not very long.” Fiddleford closed his eyes before he said “I need ya t’ know somethin’, Stanley.” Stan started to shake his head. “Fidds, you don’t have t-” The look on the other man’s face shut Stan right up-he had always had that ability. Stan wished he didn’t miss it as much as he did. “I need ya to know that even when I’m not here…I miss you. The part of me that’s somewhere in here-” A weathered hand tapped the side of his head to emphasize his point “ misses you. I’m just so sorry, Stanley. Sorry that I’m a coward. I’m sorry that I’m not strong enough to be here all the time…but I’ll never stop tryin’. I’ll always try n’ come home to ya.”

Stan thought of the thousands of times he had chased Old Man McGucket, the neat little character that Stan had to compartmentalize his Fiddleford into when he wasn’t himself, out of the Shack. How many times he had found him curled up like a cat on the back porch. How every time they “met”, McGucket would say how nice Stan was or how good he felt to be around him “for some reason.” How many odds and ends McGucket would gift Stan from the dump for exhibits at the Mystery Shack with a large smile and nothing substantial behind his eyes.

It would be so much easier if he would stop trying to come back. Maybe the hole in Stan’s heart the size of the sweet, certifiably insane man would scab over. How many times had Stanley mourned him? How many times was he willing to hurt himself? They were now nearing their sixties, how long was he really willing to do this song and dance?

What’s one more time? he softly thought, his hand coming up to tenderly cup the grizzled face of Fiddleford Hadron McGucket. Mad scientist, friend, and unfortunately for them both…the love of his life.

“I miss you too, Fidds.”

[neurodivergent-catlover]

Thinking lots about disability things and realising its okay

Its okay to be unintelligent

Its okay to make lots of mistakes

Its okay to look ugly

Its okay to be weird

Its okay to act weird

Its okay, we are all humans, just trying to survive, it's okay to be weird to look weird to do weird things, when you break it down, it leads to, its okay, it is fine.

[iamthemaestro]

I feel like I need to get more into regency clothing

[em-b-sides]

I think about that tiktok trend where you like paint your partners eye color on your nails or make a bracelet or something with the color a lot actually

[mitamicah]

A serious question for my brain: Why!??

[depresseddepot]

yeah okay. maybe it is actually all worth it