#I’m sad we didn’t get more of this look

[mewhenimanangel]

need that, hamzahthefantastic

prev pt 3*

—synopsis. hamzah invites you over to be in their new video

—warnings!: freaky uti, dry humping, undressing

notes 🫧: the fight was so tuff, i’m a die hard noob

—🐞

you parked your car outside hamzah’s house, fixing your lip gloss and zipping up your sweater before going to knock on his door.

him and martin invited you to be in one of their sims videos since mandy was on vacation and they knew you played as well.

it’s been around two weeks since you and hamzah made out in his car. since then, you’d been texting a lot more and you hung out twice with mandy and martin. though, you haven’t done anything to continue what he started.

hamzah answered the door with a grin, “come on in boi, we haven’t started playing yet. martin’s still connecting the camera and the mic” he closed the door behind you.

you felt something brush against your leg, looking down to see his cat rubbing itself on your leg. “awwww he’s so cute” you reached down to see if he’d let you pick him up.

when he did you held him in your arms and rubbed behind its ear. “which one is this?” you asked hamzah. “this is blue. red’s probably upstairs somewhere clawing at something.” he said, reaching over your arm to pet blue.

“i had to put a child lock on my fridge cause they figured out how to open it bruh” he shook his head.

you giggled looking at him with a smile.

“oh hey y/n, didn’t know you were here already. i just finished setting up the camera” martin said. “heyy” you put blue down on the floor, following martin.

“you ready to get your sims on?” he asked. “try freaking born ready” you giggled, hamzah following behind you.

you sat off to the side on the couch in hamzah’s office while they started the video. “hello everynyan-” hamzah interrupted him “dude what” “it’s like a meme like have you ever seen it? it’s like oh my gahhh” martin awkwardly repeated the video, hamzah stifling a laugh. “anyways we’re back and better than frigging ever” martin started off.

“now it has been a while-“ “definitely been a while-“ “right, a while since our regularly scheduled programming” hamzah said. “i hope you guys enjoyed the fight, we worked super hard literally for like six months”

“and you may realize we’re not in our usual spot, wanna tell them why that is?” martin said. “yes we are, we’re in my house this time because mandy’s on vacation and martin, feeling like a sad little lonely boy wanted to come over and play with me”

“yes mandy is gone. she is in spain right now because she doesn’t love me anymore. you know what they say, ‘go to spain when your lover’s a pain’. that’s why she hasn’t proposed to me yet in the big year of twenty twenty-five” martin went on. “literally nobody says that”

“but speaking of mandy, today we’re playing the sims. something we haven’t done in a long time and we need a little bit of a refresher” “yes, the sims is a girl game and since we don’t have mandy, we brought back up” hamzah added.

“yes, we obviously cannot play this game ourselves so we brought in another expert” they looked at each other before counting down from 3 and snapping their fingers. you knew they were gonna put some silly transition effect over this.

hamzah got up to get another chair for you “you good?” he asked you, making sure you were comfortable. and you nod your head before sitting between them. “hellurr. yes i am mandy’s back up today. because obviously, they don’t know what they’re doing so im taking over.”

“dude what is it with girls and the sims. only girls know how to play the sims” martin and hamzah riffed while you logged into your sims account.

“now this is your first time on here y/n, how do you feel in the presence of such greatness” martin asked. “well im honored to be on but i don’t know about ‘greatness’” you joked.

after two hours of creating sims and making them kill, cheat, fornicate, and find love, they ended the video. “banger video alert” hamzah turned the computer off. “uhh yeah that was really good if i do say so myself.” you pat yourself on the back.

the three of you lounged around hamzah’s living room for another hour after that. “are you guys hungry?” hamzah asked “i was gonna order some food” “actually i still have some packing to do for my flight tomorrow” martin sighed while playing with red. “oh shit right, i forgot” hamzah shrugged.

“i’m gonna head out now bro i’ll see you next week” he dapped hamzah up before doing the same to you. hamzah followed him out before closing the door behind him.

“i could eat” you shrugged and hamzah smiled. he pulled his phone out and ordered chick-fil-a, adding in your order.

you sat criss crossed on his couch as blue jumped into your lap, snuggling up against you and purring. “his ass definitely likes you” hamzah chuckled.

“do you want one?” he asked, coming back from his bedroom with a little jar of edibles. “sure” you reached to grab one with your nails.

hamzah grabbed one too and you tapped them together in a ‘cheers’ motion before eating them.

you soured your face and gagged “okay these are nasty oh my god” you laughed. “yeah they taste like butt but they do the job. the food should be here in like twenty minutes” he said, joining you on the couch.

you helped him review the footage from the video before he sent it to their editor. by now the edible was beginning to kick in and you were growing hungrier by the minute. his door bell rung and he got up to answer the door.

he came back holding the bags of food up with a smile on his face and plopped down onto the couch, this time much closer to you, legs and arms touching.

“fuck i’m starving. is that shit kicking in for you yet?” he asked, handing you your sandwich and fries. “oh it is” you grinned.

“have you ever had the mac and cheese?” he asked you. “no i usually go for the fries” “okay here you gotta try it.” he took some on his fork and put it in front of your mouth, paying close attention to the way your lips wrapped around the fork. “right?” he nod his head at your reaction.

“wait here, you’ve got some cheese on your mouth” he said, brushing your lip off with a napkin. “oh..oops” you giggled through your slowed words.

the two of you tore through your food, turning on family guy in the background. “that was so fucking good” you looked at him, eyes low and red.

“right…..i’m stuffed.” you slowly sipped on your milkshake. “do you ever think about what they do with the cut out pieces of fries?” you asked, just chatting. “i always wonder but they probably just throw them away.” he added.

you leaned back into the couch, cross legged, knee resting atop of hamzah’s as he put his arm on the back of the chair behind you.

he slowly rubbed your bare shoulder that peeked from under your hoodie that was falling off. you leaned your head back, resting it on his arm before looking at him.

“so, are we just never gonna talk about it again?” you addressed the elephant in the room. “hm?” he looked at you. “the kiss, are we just gonna act like it didn’t happen?”

“no of course not, i just wasn’t sure if i had made you uncomfortable so i didn’t wanna push anything again” he shrugged. “hamzah i kissed you back for a reason. i wanted it” you reassured. “and i still do” you said, looking away for a second.

he grabbed your chin, turning your face back to his before kissing you. you leaned into the kiss, rubbing your nails at the back of his neck.

the room filled with your mutual satisfied sounds, hamzah pushing his hand up under your sweater. he laid you down against the couch arm, keeping himself steady atop of you.

he slowly pulled the zip down, taking off your sweater off, you willed yourself to follow his lead, wrapping your arms around him. he broke the kiss, “you good, right?” he asked. “yeah, keep going. i want you, hamzah” you reassured. he kissed you again before lining kisses down your jawline and throat. he sucked down on your skin “wait don’t leave any hickeys” you said through a moan.

“too late” he let out a breathy laugh, making you giggle. hamzah let out a soft noise at the feeling of your nails rubbing through his hair. he slowly eased his up under your tank top, reaching up he grabbed a handful of bra. “here, hang on” you sat up, taking off your shirt and throwing it by your sweater. you fiddled with your bra clasp and eased the straps off your shoulders, letting your boobs rest.

hamzah stared at them, mouth agape. “that was a push up bra by the way, so don’t be too disappointed” you joked. “how would i be disappointed. you’re fucking hot” he pulled you atop of him and kissed you, hands firm on your ass.

he kissed down the middle of your chest before his mouth latched on. you sighed in satisfaction when he rolled his tongue.

you subconsciously grinded your hips on his, feeling him grow. “fuck” you winced. you stayed in that position for a while, dry humping each other as he kissed and sucked all over your upper body. you felt yourself getting needier by the minute. “hamzah-“ you started before being interrupted by a knocking on the door. “dude let me in, i forgot my wallet” it was martin.

you looked at hamzah before getting up. he kissed you “go to my bedroom, i’ll be there in a second” he told you and you smirked before leaving the room.

hamzah let him in “ugh thank you, i was worried you fell asleep” martin said, spotting his wallet on the side table.

hamzah looked over his shoulder realizing your shirt and bra were still thrown around on the couch. “imagine i went all the way to spain and forgot this just sitting here” martin chuckled before turning around, hamzah missing the chance to let him not to.

“oou you got chick-fil-a? anything left?” he looked inside a bag before he came face to face with your bra. he turned around, jaw dropped “dude!” he gasped and hamzah grinned.

lvryn

Liked by hamzahthefantasfic, clairedrakee and others

lvryn alright who pressed fast forward on my weekend 😂

mandys_iphone cute

user HELLO? is this a soft launch?????

ynlover omg this and how touchy they were in the sims video last month, they’re definitely dating ?)!(!;$:

— 🐞 the end

[sageshouldknowbetter]

In Defense of Mark S

Post S2E4, Helly is going to be mad at Mark. I can’t see a way around it. He not only didn’t know someone else was “behind the wheel” of her body, he continued romantic pursuing of that person… thinking it was her.

But though Helly has valid reasons to be angry, a) victim blaming isn’t okay and b) I can totally see why Mark didn’t realize something was amiss!

First: impossibility and sheer absurdity. To Mark S, it would be unthinkable for an outie to ever enter the severed floor. That’s a violation of his universal laws, immutable as gravity.

Water is wet. Coffee cups fall down when you knock them off the table. And outies do NOT come down to the severed floor, because the chips are spatially triggered.

And sure, he knows about the OTC and that it’s theoretically possible — but why would any outie want to, and why would Lumon ever LET them? If he ever thought, “Oh, Helly’s acting strange,” Mark’s mind would go through a million different logical steps before landing on something outlandish as that.

Maybe she’s sad she was alone when she woke up during the OTC. Maybe she’s just having a bad week. Maybe she’s acting differently around him because of their first kiss. The idea that she’s being possessed by another being? Never would have occurred to him!

Remember how his outie plays into this as well. Irving B has the subconscious of some kind of anti-Lumon revolutionary with the paranoia that only comes from a military background. (“She’s a mole!”) Of course he clocked her.

But Mark? Mark Scout a) doesn’t know the entire family of his CEO, and b) has the subconscious of a history professor grieving his wife. While Irving’s outie’s knowledge bled through to him in the subconscious of his dream, I wouldn’t be surprised if Mark’s subconscious was actively TRYING to suppress any suspicious thoughts.

Of course it’s Helly. It NEEDS to be Helly. Because Mark’s brain is tired of grieving. His subconscious will shut down any accusations that she’s acting differently and cling to the idea because she CAN’T be gone, right? It’s not happening again… right?

And then we circle back to the first kiss. Mark S is in love — head over heels — with Helly R. He’s trying to find Gemma, sure, but that’s for his outie’s happiness, not his own.

If you’ve had one, do you remember your first crush? Remember the butterflies in your stomach and how much you were laser-focused on your own behavior? “What should I say?” “How do I look?” “Am I being weird? Why is she looking at me like that?” Mark S doesn’t notice Helly R is off because he’s too busy worrying about how he comes across to her. And because he has no idea she’s Helena, he has every reason to believe that’s how she’s thinking about him, too! He thinks they’re both dorks in love trying to figure things out. Irving doesn’t have this disadvantage — he’s on the outside and can see everything play out.

All I’m saying is I get it. I hope Helly at least kind of gets it too. What I’m wondering is, will Mark even tell Helly about his assault? Will he hide it out of some misguided belief that it would make her even more angry? Will she yell at him, not knowing that he’s a victim of someone wearing her own face? Much to think about.

[kpop-reactions-povs]

Seventeen - Their S/O feeling sad because they overwork and spend less time with them

S.Coups

You barely get the words out before he’s already pulling you into a tight hug. His grip is warm and steady, almost like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. "I’m so sorry," he whispers, his voice thick with guilt. "I didn’t realize how much I’ve been missing with you." He pulls back and cups your face, his eyes searching yours. "From now on, no more late-night meetings without a call. And this weekend? It’s just us." He kisses your forehead softly. "You’re my priority."

Jeonghan

He notices the sadness in your voice even before you finish speaking, his playful smile fading. "Oh no, I’ve messed up, haven’t I?" Jeonghan sighs, tugging you down onto the couch beside him. His fingers intertwine with yours as he leans his head on your shoulder. "I’m sorry, love. I got caught up with everything... but nothing’s more important than you." A sly grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. "How about we ditch everything and have a lazy day tomorrow? Just us, blankets, and snacks."

Joshua

Joshua listens carefully, his face calm but his eyes full of concern. When you finish, he gently takes your hand and gives it a squeeze. "I’m really sorry you felt this way," he says softly. "I’ve been so focused on work that I forgot to focus on us." He pauses, a small smile forming. "How about a date night? Like, a proper one. Dinner, music, and then a walk under the stars?" His voice is full of warmth. "We’ll make it a weekly thing, I promise."

Jun

Jun’s eyes widen as you tell him how you’ve been feeling. "Why didn’t you tell me sooner?" he says, his voice full of concern. Without waiting for an answer, he grabs your hand and pulls you into a spontaneous hug. "We’re fixing this right now." The next thing you know, he’s planning a whole day of fun—roller skating, ice cream, and watching silly movies until you’re both laughing too hard to breathe.

Hoshi

The moment he realizes you’ve been sad, Hoshi’s face falls. "Wait, wait, you’ve been feeling like that because of me?" He practically throws his phone on the table and rushes to sit beside you. "I’m such a fool," he mutters, hugging you tightly. "I don’t care how busy things get. I’ll always make time for you." His next plan? A surprise adventure date filled with random dancing, stuffed animals, and your favorite food.

Wonwoo

Wonwoo doesn’t say much at first, but you can tell he’s taking every word to heart. He nods slowly, his brow furrowing as he processes everything. "I didn’t mean to make you feel that way," he says quietly. "Thank you for telling me." Later that evening, he invites you to a calm, quiet bookstore date and insists on buying you whatever catches your eye.

Woozi

Woozi’s eyes flicker with surprise, and then... guilt. "I’ve really been that absent?" he asks, almost to himself. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. "I’ve been so focused on music… but you’re the song I should never forget." He takes your hand. "I’ll do better." True to his word, you find yourself spending more time in his studio—together, side by side—and he even writes a sweet little tune just for you.

DK (Seokmin)

His eyes immediately fill with worry. "Wait, really? Oh no, I’ve been a terrible boyfriend!" He wraps you in the biggest hug, his warmth practically melting your sadness. "I’ll make it up to you, I swear!" He’s already grabbing his phone to plan a full day of fun—picnics, karaoke, and the cheesiest rom-com marathon you’ve ever seen. All while sneaking kisses and making sure you never stop smiling.

Mingyu

Mingyu looks heartbroken as you speak, his face falling with each word. "I’ve really hurt you without meaning to," he says, his voice low. "I hate that." He stands up and heads to the kitchen, returning with your favorite comfort food. "Eat first. Then, we’ll talk about how to fix this." He sits beside you, his hand never leaving yours. "We’re a team, okay? I’ll do better."

The8 (Minghao)

Minghao listens carefully, his expression thoughtful. He doesn’t interrupt once. "Thank you for telling me how you feel," he says calmly. "I didn’t realize how distant I’d been." He takes your hand and looks you in the eyes. "Let’s take a break together. A little escape. Just us." A couple of days later, you’re strolling through an art gallery, his fingers brushing yours every so often, a peaceful silence settling between you.

Seungkwan

"Oh no, no, no," Seungkwan says, his eyes already shining with tears. "You’ve been sad because of me?" He pulls you into a warm hug, patting your back soothingly. "I’m so sorry! That’s not okay. I’ll make it up to you." True to his word, the next day, you wake up to flowers, your favorite snacks, and a whole day of pampering. He won’t stop reminding you how much he loves you.

Vernon

Vernon’s quiet for a moment, thinking carefully before he speaks. "I’m really sorry you felt that way," he says softly. "I didn’t mean for work to take over." He gives you a shy smile and pulls you into a gentle hug. "Let’s set some time aside every week for just us, yeah? Like a standing date?" He’s already making a mental note to stick to it.

Dino

Dino’s eyes widen in shock. "You’ve been feeling like that? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?" He grabs both your hands and squeezes them tightly. "I’m so sorry. I’ll do better, I promise." He grins suddenly. "Let’s go out right now. Anywhere you want." Before you know it, you’re singing your hearts out at karaoke, laughing so hard it hurts, and feeling like the most important person in the world again.

[bbdeongi]

Blurry Words, Clear Feelings

☆PAIRING: Childhood Bsf! San x Fem! Reader

☆WARNINGS: Angst, fluff, fake friends, Y/N is drunk, pet names (Angel, Precious, Darling.), Suggestive at the end but not too much, friends to lovers au.

☆SUMMARY: your trust is shattered after discovering your so-called "friends have been using you. Drunk and upset, you turn to your best friend, San, who is there to comfort you.

☆WORD COUNT: 8.9k

☆A/N: AHH I'm so happy I finally completed this!! this is a request from @/atzlov-r. Thank you so much for waiting!! And this is the longest fic I've made.. jsjs

The night had started out innocently enough. You had gone out with your “friends,” hoping to have a good time and maybe forget the weight of everything you had been dealing with lately. It was supposed to be a fun night—laughter, drinks, music, and maybe some dancing. But as the night wore on, things started to feel... wrong. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, but it became undeniable. Your friends weren’t really friends. They were just people who took advantage of your kindness, of your willingness to buy drinks and keep everyone entertained.

When you overheard their conversation outside the restroom, you felt the sharp sting of betrayal. The truth hit you like a ton of bricks. “We can get her to buy us more drinks. Why not?” “She’s just so easy to manipulate. I mean, who else is going to pay for it?”

It hurt more than you expected, a mix of anger, embarrassment, and confusion. You had spent so long trying to make them happy, trying to fit in and be liked. But they didn’t care about you—not at all.

Without thinking, you stormed back to the group, your chest tight with emotion. You wanted to scream at them, to make them feel what you were feeling, but all you could do was yell, your voice breaking as you confronted them.

“Why are you using me?!” you shouted, not caring who heard. “I’m not your personal ATM! You don’t even care about me!”

The group froze for a moment, clearly startled and shocked by your outburst. A few of them exchanged uncomfortable glances with each other, but none of them seemed to truly understand the weight of your words. One girl, the one who had been laughing the loudest earlier, rolled her eyes as if your outburst were just a minor inconvenience.

“You’re being dramatic, Y/N,” she said dismissively. “We’re just having fun, okay? Stop being so sensitive.”

“Sensitive?” You couldn’t help it. You scoff, Your voice grew louder, slurred from the alcohol but full of hurt. “You’ve been using me this whole fucking time! I’ve been buying drinks for all of you, running around, making sure everyone’s having a good time, and this is what I get in return? Being laughed at behind my back!?”

A couple of them shifted uncomfortably, their faces a mix of guilt and annoyance. But no one spoke up. No one apologized. They didn’t even try to make things right. The girl who had dismissed you earlier just shrugged and rolled her eyes once more.

“Look, it’s not a big deal. You’re overreacting,” she muttered, before turning away to chat with someone else. “You're acting childish, it's annoying, Y/N..”

That was it. That was the moment you knew you were done. You couldn’t stay here, not with these people. They weren’t worth your time, your energy, or your trust. With a shaky breath, you turned on your heel and walked away from the group, feeling the familiar sting of humiliation in your chest. You felt a tear roll down the side of your face. You didn’t care if they were watching. You didn’t care about them at all.

You made your way to the bar, pushing through the crowd. Your legs felt wobbly under you, but the anger and sadness kept you moving. You couldn’t stop now. You couldn’t go back to those people who you called your "friends". Instead, you just needed to drink. Forget about them. Forget about everything.

As you reached the bar counter, you barely noticed the bartender behind it. She was busy talking to another customer, her back turned for a moment. But you didn’t care. You were too focused on your own thoughts, and your own emotions. You needed another drink. You needed to drown the pain.

When the female finally turned to you, her eyes scanning your face, you gave her a small, tired smile. It felt forced, but you hoped she wouldn’t notice.

“Can I get a... double whiskey?” you slurred as you wiped the tear off of your cheek, your voice thick with alcohol.

The bartender raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down. She hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing whether or not she should serve you more alcohol. But then she shrugged and started to pour your drink.

“Here you go,” she said, sliding the glass toward you. You picked it up and took a long gulp, the burn of the whiskey doing little to dull the ache in your chest. It was numbing, but not nearly enough.

Your hands trembled as you reached for your drink again, ignoring the way your vision blurred. Maybe if you drowned yourself in enough alcohol, the pain would fade, the ache in your chest would disappear, and you wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. You could just disappear in your own mind. Get away from the real world and the problems that come with it.

So you took another sip.

And another.

And another.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before you ordered your next drink. But it felt like everything was moving in slow motion. One drink after another, until the female worker seemed to just be going through the motions. You didn’t even know how many drinks you had by then—five, six, seven? The alcohol was starting to take hold of you completely, your mind fuzzy and clouded, but you didn't give a shit. Your anger had turned into a numb, empty feeling, a void that seemed to swallow everything around you.

Every time you looked up, the same faces from your “friends” were still there, laughing and chatting. But none of them cared. They were just focused on themselves. You could feel their eyes on you, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything except getting more drunk. "fucking selfish" you thought to yourself. that's what they were. Selfish assholes..

At this point, you barely noticed the bartender behind the counter. She had been watching you for a while, and as she made her way over, she seemed more concerned and worried than before. She stopped in front of you, a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"Hey, sweetheart," she said, her voice gentler than before. "I think you’ve had enough."

You blinked up at her, trying to steady yourself. "M'fine," you slurred, though the way your body swayed slightly said otherwise.

“That’s enough drinks for now,” she said again, firmly, her tone almost maternal.

You blinked up at her, confused. “What?”

“I said, that’s enough,” she repeated, shaking her head. “You’ve had more than enough drinks for tonight.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words got stuck. You didn’t want to listen to her. You didn’t want to hear anything right now. You just wanted to keep drinking, to forget everything that had happened, to forget how badly you had been used.

But the woman didn’t back down. She placed a hand on the counter and leaned in a little closer, her expression softer now, though still firm. A sigh fell from her lips as she looked at you with serious eyes..

“Listen,” she said, her voice gentle but serious. “I don’t usually do this, but you’ve had too much. I know you’re upset, but drinking more isn’t going to help you. It’s just going to make things way worse.”

You looked up at her, eyes blurry and unfocused. You didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. The alcohol wasn’t helping. It was only making everything feel more intense, more painful. But still, you didn’t know what else to do. You couldn’t handle everything that had happened. You didn’t know how to fix it.

“Do you have someone who cares about you?” she asked softly, her eyes locking with yours. “Someone you trust? Someone who’s there for you?”

You thought about it for a moment, the haze of alcohol clouding your thoughts. But then the name came to you, like it always did.

“San,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath. “San...”

Her eyes softened. “That your boyfriend?”

You snorted, though it was weak. “No. My best friend.”

The bartender studied you for a long moment before exhaling through her nose. “Good. Because you need a real friend right now.” Then, before you could protest, she pulled out her phone. “Tell me his number.”

You frowned, the alcohol making your brain hazy. “Why?”

“Because, sweetheart, you’re drunk off your ass, and I’m not letting you go home with people who don’t give a damn about you.” The bartender gave you a soft, knowing look. “I think it’s time to call him. Let him help you.”

You nodded weakly, your heart sinking. You hadn’t wanted to rely on San, but now, it seemed like the only thing you could do. He had always been there for you, always been your rock. You just hoped he would be there for you now, after everything.

The bartender took your phone from your hand, giving you a reassuring smile. “I’m going to call him for you, okay?”

You didn’t have the strength to argue. You just sat there, letting her take the phone from your unsteady and shaking hands. She quickly found San’s name in your contacts and dialed the number, bringing the phone to her ear. You could barely make out the words when the phone picked up, but you could hear the familiar sound of San’s voice on the other end.

“Hello?” he asked, his voice sounding worried.

“Hi,” the bartender said. “This is a bartender at the club. Your friend is here, and she’s had a little too much to drink. She’s upset, and I think she could really use you right now. Can you come pick her up?”

There was a brief pause before San’s voice returned, sounding much more alert. “Y/N?.. Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, but she’s drunk and needs you. I’m not letting her stay here like this. Can you come get her?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The bartender smiled softly and nodded at you. “He’s on his way.”

You felt a strange sense of relief wash over you, like a weight lifting off your chest. San was coming. He would be there to help you. Everything would be okay. Everything will be just fine...

“Thank you,” you whispered to the bartender, your voice barely audible.

She gave you a warm smile. “It’s no problem. Just hang in there, okay, dear? He’ll be here soon.”

You nodded again, feeling your eyes grow heavy. It felt like everything was finally starting to calm down like the storm inside you was slowly fading. You just needed to wait a little longer. San would be here soon. And everything would be okay.

San was already halfway out the door before the bartender could even finish explaining.

“She’s drunk,” she had said through the phone, her voice low and concerned. “And those people she’s with? They don’t have her best interests in mind.”

That was all San needed to hear.

His chest tightened as the words echoed in his mind. He’d told you, warned you about those people before. But you hadn’t listened. You’d always been too trusting, too kind. You’d thought they were your friends—good friends. But now, he was seeing just how wrong you had been.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he navigated the busy streets, the city lights flashing by in a blur. He knew you were strong. He knew you didn’t need anyone to protect you. But this—this was different. You were vulnerable. You were upset. You weren't in your normal headspace. And right now, you are alone in a crowded bar with people who don’t care about you.

The thought made his stomach churn.

San pushed open the heavy doors of the bar, the sound of music and laughter spilling into the night air. He scanned the room quickly, the crowd of people barely registering in his mind. His eyes locked onto you almost immediately.

There you were, slouched over the bar counter, your cheek resting against your folded arms, tears slowly rolling down your flushed face. Your fingers still loosely wrapped around the glass in front of you, the remnants of your drink barely visible. You looked so small, so fragile in that moment. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of you, the weight of the situation finally hitting him. You were hurting, and it killed him to see you like this.

His jaw tightened in frustration, and his fingers flexed at his sides, itching to do something. How could they have done this to you? he thought. How could they use you like that?

The bartender, noticing him standing there, waved him over. She was a tall woman, her demeanor calm but concerned. “You must be San,” she said, her tone even but with a hint of understanding.

San nodded quickly, his eyes never leaving you. “How bad is she?” His voice was tight, almost urgent. He was worried about you.

“She’s had too much,” the bartender replied, her gaze flickering to you before landing back on him. “And from what I overheard, she just found out those friends of hers aren’t really her friends. They’ve been using her, taking advantage of her.”

San’s heart sank at her words. He knew, deep down, that this was what had been happening all along. But hearing it out loud made it real in a way that hurt him more than he expected.

Shaking his head, San forced his emotions down. There wasn’t time to dwell on it now. He needed to focus on you. He crouched down next to you, his warm palm gently landing on your shoulder. His fingers brushed the fabric of your top as he tried to rouse you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice softer than he intended. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

At the sound of his voice, you stirred slightly, your head lifting just enough to blink at him through bleary eyes. Your gaze seemed unfocused for a moment, as if trying to make sense of the world around you. Then, recognition flickered in your eyes, and you managed to lift your hand, reaching out to touch his arm.

“S- sannie?” Your voice was small, barely above a whisper.

San’s breath caught in his throat at the sound of his name slipping from your lips, but he didn’t let it show. He forced a smile, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Yeah, it’s me,” he replied softly, fighting the wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. “I’m here, angel. Let’s get you out of here.”

You let out a small hum of relief, your lips curling up in a small smile that made his heart ache. “I- I knew you’d come...” you mumbled, your voice thick with alcohol and sleepiness.

San’s heart clenched painfully in his chest at the words. Of course he would come. He’d always come. But hearing you say it like that—so vulnerable, so trusting—made him want to protect you more than ever.

“Of course I came,” he said, his tone low, almost tender. He brushed another strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. “You think I’d leave you like this?”

You pouted, your brows furrowing in that adorable way that always made him laugh. “No…” You sighed, your voice sleepy as your eyelids fluttered closed momentarily. “But I didn’t w- wanna bother you…”

San scoffed, though there was no real bite to it. He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “You’re never a bother to me.” His voice softened at the end, his words laced with an unspoken truth. He would never see you as a burden, never in a million years.

Before he could coax you to your feet, your body swayed slightly, and you slumped forward in a way that made his stomach lurch. His reflexes kicked in just in time as he reached out and steadied you, his arms catching your waist before you could fall off the stool.

“Alright, that’s it,” he muttered under his breath. His voice had a resigned tone to it, but he didn’t hesitate. He bent down, his strong arms sliding under your legs as he effortlessly lifted you up onto his back. “You’re not walking like this.”

A little squeak left your lips, and San couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh as your arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders. Your body felt light against his back, but the sensation was strangely comforting. It felt... right, in a way.

“Ohhh… piggyback ride!” you giggled, your voice slurring slightly as you rested your head against his shoulder.

San shook his head with a quiet laugh, securing his grip under your thighs. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, though his tone was fond, “Just hold on tight, alright?”

You hummed happily, your arms tightening slightly around his neck as you buried your face into the curve of his shoulder. “Y- yay! Piggggyybackk..!” San could feel the warmth of your breath against his skin, making his heart race just a little bit faster. He tried not to focus on it, on how perfect it felt to have you so close, so vulnerable in his arms.

He thanked the bartender, and she waved back. He was glad that a trustworthy person found you, and stayed by your side. Who knows what could've happened if you just stayed alone.

He adjusted his grip on you and started walking toward the exit, his pace steady and sure, despite the weight of you on his back. The whole situation felt surreal, it felt like a dream he never wanted to wake up from. But as much as he wanted to stay in that moment, he knew there was still one more thing to deal with.

That’s when the rambling started.

“I’ve.. always thought you were sooo perfect,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “Like.., San, you’re jus- so... so... pretty... And hot. God, you're so hot.”

San’s entire body froze, his eyes slightly widened, his breath catching in his throat. The words tumbled out of you, slurred and slow, but they hit him like a freight train. His heart skipped a beat as the weight of your drunken confession sunk in.

Did you just say that?

You didn’t seem to notice the effect your words were having on him. You just kept going, completely unaware of how much he was trying to keep himself together. He ignored you and continued walking. Maybe you didn't mean it. But you continued..

“You’re a- alwayyysss there for me.. Y'know? Always. And you’re so kind... and you’re strong... but like, in a... in a way tha's not too much, y'know?”

San’s chest tightened, and he let out a shaky breath. He didn’t know how to respond to that, didn’t know what to say. Part of him wanted to laugh it off, to tell you that you were just drunk and didn’t mean it. But another part of him—the part that had always cared for you, the part that had always been there for you—was starting to feel something he wasn’t sure he was ready to face.

You continued your rambling and yapping, completely unaware of the emotions racing through him. San’s thoughts were a whirlwind, his heart hammering in his chest as he focused on getting you to the car. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him like this—dazed, uncertain, and maybe even a little afraid of what all of this meant.

But one thing was for sure: He would never let you go. Not now. Not ever...

You eventually reached his car. He opened the passenger's side and carefully set you down on the seat.. you groaned softly as you leaned back against the cushion. He reached over you and buckled your seatbelt in. He gently shut the door and walked over to the driver's side. He got in and buckled his seatbelt.. A sigh left his lips as he started the car, looking at you making sure you were okay.

San sighed as he maneuvered the car onto the road, one hand gripping the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift. The neon streetlights cast long shadows on your face, highlighting the way your head wobbled slightly as you tried to sit upright. You stared out the window, your eyes following each pink and blue light.

The drive back home was quiet, except for the soft hum of the car's engine and the occasional hiccup that escaped your lips. San's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he focused on the road, his gaze flickering over to you every now and then. You were still resting against his shoulder, your face still flushed from the alcohol.

Every time you hiccupped, a small giggle followed, making San's heartache in a way he didn’t expect. Your giggles were cute and carefree, but there was an edge to them—a tenderness that made him feel both protective and… something more.

You hiccupped suddenly, your whole body jolting from the force of it, and a sleepy giggle followed immediately after. “whoopsies,” you murmured, swaying a little as you leaned your head against the cool window. “’M’drunk…”

San huffed out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, angel, I know.”

You turned your head to him, blinking a few times like it was hard to keep your eyes open. Your lips pushed into a small pout, and you let out a dramatic sigh. “But… but Sannie, just ’cause I’m drunk… doesn’t mean I’m lyin’,” you slurred, dragging out the last word as if it took effort to say.

San's grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles whitening slightly. He could already tell where this was going. Though you didn't drink much and tried to avoid it, you always got like this when you were wasted—overly affectionate, a little too honest, and completely unaware of how much your words affected him.

"Y/N," he warned, glancing over at you, but you weren’t paying attention to his hesitance.

You suddenly gasped, sitting up straighter—though the movement made you wobble slightly. “Ohhh my God,” you drawled, eyes wide as if you had just come to some life-altering realization.

San arched a brow. “…What?”

“You’re jus’—” You hiccupped again, a giggle bubbling past your lips. “You’re jus’ so… perfect, Sannie.”

San inhaled sharply, his knuckles going white against the steering wheel.

Oh no.

He really needed to get you home before you started saying things he wouldn't be able to forget.

"You always take care of me," you mumbled, your head rolling slightly as you stared at him with big, unfocused eyes. "You're so… so nice. Like… sooo nice. The nicest person ever. Like, for real. I dunno what I’d do without you…”

San swallowed, keeping his gaze locked on the road. “Y/N, you’re drunk,” he repeated, his voice lower now, more controlled.

You ignored him completely, waving a hand in the air as if dismissing his words. "An’ you—" Another hiccup. "You have the best shoulders.”

San blinked.

His lips parted slightly, but no words came out. He turned to you for a brief second, only to see you staring at him—your expression deadly serious.

“…What?”

“Your shoulders," you repeated, slurring slightly. "They're sooo big. Like… stupid big.” You reached out clumsily, your fingers poking at his upper arm before sliding up to pat his shoulder as if testing its size.

San clenched his jaw. “Precious, keep your hands to yourself,” he muttered. He secretly liked how clingy and touchy you were, but he had to keep you grounded at this moment.

But you only pouted, retracting your hand with an exaggerated sigh. “Jus’ sayin’,” you mumbled under your breath, slumping back against the seat. “S’not my fault you got shoulders like a… like a…” You trailed off, blinking in thought. Then your face lit up.

"Like a mountain!" you announced loudly with a stupid smile on your face.

San let out a long, exhausted sigh. “A mountain..?”

"Yeahhh," you giggled, wiggling a bit in your seat. "Like, if I ever got lost, I think I’d be able to find you, ‘cause your shoulders are like… like a landmark.”

San pressed his lips together, fighting back his blush, but he couldn't help it. You were a mess. A completely ridiculous, drunk mess. And you had no idea how close he was to losing his mind over you.

You hiccupped again and let out a dramatic groan. “Ugh, why’re you so pretty, Sannie?”

San stiffened.

Oh, no. He was not having this conversation with you right now.

"You’re jus’ so pretty," you slurred, batting your eyelashes, blinking at him in awe. "Like, it’s not fair… your face is so—so nice, and your eyes—Sannie, your eyes—" You turned to him with an exaggerated, pouty frown. “They're so brown.”

San let out a strangled noise. “I mean… yeah? That’s kinda how eyes work, Y/N.”

You huffed, clearly unsatisfied with his response. “Nooo, but your eyes are like, warm brown. Like… melted chocolate. Or… or a sunset, if a sunset was brown—wait, no, that doesn’t make sense…”

San squeezed his eyes shut briefly, inhaling deeply before forcing himself to focus on the road.

"You really need to sleep," he muttered, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

"But I’m not tired!" you protested, even as your head wobbled dangerously close to the window.

San scoffed. “Yeah? Then why are you slurring all your words?”

You blinked lazily at him before shrugging. “M’just… relaxed…”

San shook his head, letting out a quiet chuckle. "Precious," he said, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. "You're really drunk. You don’t even know what you’re saying. You’re not sober, Y/N."

You furrowed your brows, shaking your head—though the movement made you wobble even more. “Well…” You hiccupped again, pressing your palm against your face as if trying to steady yourself. “I’m sober ’nuff to know I mean it.”

San’s breath hitched, his heart stalling for just a second.

He knew you were drunk. He knew that. But there was something in the way you said it—something that made it feel too real.

You smiled, clearly pleased with his response. But then, a moment later, your face softened, and you sighed, resting your cheek against the window. “Sannie…”

San hummed in acknowledgment.

"You’re my favorite person," you murmured, your voice softer now, sleepier.

San's fingers twitched against the wheel.

His throat felt tight. He knew you were drunk, knew you probably wouldn’t even remember this conversation in the morning. But damn it… it still made his chest ache in a way he didn’t know how to deal with.

“…You’re mine too, angel,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You made a content little noise, eyes fluttering shut. “Good,” you mumbled. “M’glad.”

San swallowed thickly, stealing one last glance at you before refocusing on the road.

Yeah, he thought, me too.

San exhaled as he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex, the tension in his shoulders finally easing just a little.

The entire ride had been filled with your drunken rambling, your words a mixture of heartfelt confessions and ridiculous observations about his mountain-like shoulders. He had tried his best to ignore the way his face heated every time you sighed about how “safe” and “solid” he felt, but it wasn’t easy when your voice was so soft and full of admiration.

But now, as he parked the car and glanced over at you, he noticed you had sobered up—just a little. Your eyelids were still heavy, and you swayed slightly when you moved, but your words weren’t as slurred anymore. The giggles had quieted, and instead of the drunken daze from before, there was something else lingering in your gaze—something softer.

San sighed and stepped out of the car before making his way to your side, opening the door and crouching down slightly.

“Alright, darling,” he murmured, his voice gentler now. “Up we go.”

Before you could even process what was happening, he slid an arm under your legs and lifted you onto his back again.

A small gasp left your lips at the sudden movement, but you didn’t resist. If anything, you melted against him, your arms draping lazily over his shoulders, your cheek pressing against the back of his neck.

“You do this too much,” you murmured, voice still laced with exhaustion.

San huffed a quiet laugh, adjusting his hold under your thighs. “You keep getting yourself into situations where I have to.”

You made a tiny noise—a whine in protest, but the warmth of his back was too comforting for you to argue. Instead, you relaxed, letting him carry you toward the building.

The moment he stepped into his apartment, a familiar sense of calm washed over him. The dim lighting cast soft shadows across the walls, and the faint scent of vanilla from his candles still lingered in the air. He didn't have time to blow them out since he was so focused on getting to you and bringing you back here.

He walked straight to his bedroom, the lamp on the nightstand cast a dimly lit glow, the curtains covering the night sky.. He gently set you down on his bed before stepping back and looking at your tiny self. He couldn't deny how cute you looked.

“You need to change,” he said, already moving toward his dresser. “I’ll grab something comfortable—”

“San.” Your voice stopped him in his tracks.

His fingers froze just before touching the drawer handle, and he turned to look at you, expecting to see your usual sleepy, drunken expression.

But you weren’t just drunk anymore. You were looking at him with clarity.

“I mean it when I say I like you.”

San felt the air leave his lungs.

His lips parted slightly, but no words came out. He just stood there, his entire body frozen as your words echoed in his mind.

You weren’t laughing. You weren’t teasing. You were serious.

“I’ve meant it for a long time,” you continued, your fingers gripping the blanket beneath you. “And I know you think I don’t know what I’m saying because I had too much to drink tonight, but San, I swear, I know.”

San swallowed hard, trying to keep his heart from completely spiraling out of control.

“Darling…” His voice was careful, hesitant. “You’re still a little drunk.”

You frowned, frustration flickering in your eyes. “I know that,” you muttered. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.”

San inhaled sharply, his grip tightening at his sides. He could feel how much you meant it. He could see it in the way you were looking at him.

And that terrified him. Because for years, he had told himself this would never happen.

For years, he had buried everything, convinced that his feelings for you were one-sided, that you only saw him as a friend, that he had no right to want more.

And now here you were, sitting on his bed, looking at him like he was your entire world.

“I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret saying this,” he admitted, his voice quiet but firm.

Your brows furrowed, and you pushed yourself up slightly, propping yourself on your hands. “Why do you always do that?”

San blinked. “Do what?”

“Doubt yourself,” you said, shaking your head. “Doubt me.”

San’s chest ached at the frustration in your voice.

“It’s not that,” he murmured. “I just don’t want you to—”

“Regret it?” you finished for him. “San, I won’t.”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Because if he did—if he let himself believe you—he wasn’t sure if he could hold himself back anymore.

You stared at him for a long moment, your breath uneven. Then, suddenly, your jaw clenched, and before he could react, you reached forward, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him toward you.

And then you kissed him.

San froze.

Your lips were warm, soft, and desperate—like you were trying to prove something to him. His brain short-circuited.

For years, he had imagined this. Wanted this.

But nothing could have prepared him for what it actually felt like.

Your hands gripped his shirt tightly, as if you were afraid he’d pull away. But God, he had no intention of doing that. Not when you were kissing him like this.

His hesitation cracked.

San exhaled sharply through his nose before he finally—finally—moved.

His hands found your waist, pulling you impossibly close as he kissed you back, his movements slow but deep. He could taste the faint remnants of alcohol on your lips, but beneath that, he could taste you. And it was intoxicating.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, tugging him closer, and San let out a quiet groan against your lips. His head was spinning, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it.

This wasn’t just some drunken mistake. This was everything.

When you finally pulled back, your breath was uneven, your lips slightly swollen. Your eyes met his, and there it was again—that look. The one that made his entire world shift.

“Still don’t believe me?” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

San swallowed hard, his hands still resting on your waist.

“I believe you,” he admitted, his voice rough.

Your lips curled into a small, knowing smile.

And just like that, he was done for.

Your breath was still uneven when you leaned back slightly, eyes searching his face. San was still so close, his hands resting on your waist, his lips barely parted as if he was still trying to process what had just happened.

And maybe you should have stopped there—let the moment settle, let him breathe.

But you didn’t want to. Because for years, you had wanted this.

And now that you had him here, looking at you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded, you weren’t about to let him run away from this.

So you kissed him again. This time, there was no hesitation.

Your fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt, pulling him in as your lips pressed firmly against his.

San inhaled sharply through his nose, his entire body going rigid. But he didn’t pull away.

No—he kissed you back.

And this time, there was no careful restraint.

His grip on your waist tightened, his fingers pressing into your skin just enough to make you shiver. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that sent heat rushing down your spine. It was slow but deep, each movement drawing you closer, making your head spin.

His warmth, his scent, the way his hands held you like he was afraid to let go—it was all consuming.

You felt weightless. Dizzy. Desperate.

A soft, needy sound escaped your lips, and that was when it happened—San froze.

His lips stilled against yours, his entire body stiffening before he abruptly pulled away, breath heavy.

Your brows furrowed. “San—?”

His hands were still on you, but his grip had loosened, as if he was forcing himself to let go. His jaw was clenched, his eyes dark, but beneath that, there was something else—a storm of emotions he was clearly struggling to keep under control.

His gaze dropped to your lips for half a second before he quickly looked away, exhaling sharply.

“Angel,” he murmured, voice low but strained. “You’re still a little drunk.”

You pouted at that, lips still tingling from the way he had kissed you just moments ago. “I told you—I know what I’m saying.”

San shook his head, his hands slipping from your waist, though it looked like it physically pained him to do so. “I don’t wanna lose control.”

You swallowed, heart pounding. Lose control.

You weren’t naive. You could feel what that kiss had done to him. You could see it in the way his chest rose and fell, in the way his fingers curled slightly like he was restraining himself from pulling you back in.

And it thrilled you.

Because you had done that to him.

You had never seen him like this before—so close to unraveling, yet still fighting to hold himself back for your sake.

Your frustration grew. “San,” you whispered, reaching for his hand. “I want this.”

His breath hitched, but he didn’t move.

“I want you.”

His fingers twitched under yours. God, he was fighting so hard. And you were determined to break him.

San barely had a second to react before you grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged him down onto the bed with you. He let out a startled grunt as his back hit the mattress, his hands instinctively finding your waist to steady you as you climbed onto his lap.

“Angel—”

You cut him off with another kiss, this one messier, more desperate. Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging lightly as you deepened the kiss, pouring every bit of emotion you had into it.

San groaned against your lips, his grip on your waist tightening as his self-control slipped further. You could feel the way his heart pounded beneath your touch, the way his breath hitched every time your hips shifted against his.

You knew he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

And you were determined to make him lose that last shred of restraint.

You trailed your lips away from his, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, then down his neck. San sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers digging into your hips.

“Y/N…” His voice was a warning, but it was weak—shaky.

You smirked against his skin. “What is it, Sannie?”

A curse slipped from his lips as your teeth grazed against his pulse point, followed by a sharp inhale when you sucked gently, leaving a mark behind.

You felt him tense beneath you, his grip on you almost bruising now.

“Precious, you’re playing with fire,” he muttered, his voice rough, strained.

You hummed against his skin, trailing another kiss lower. “Maybe I want to get burned.”

San’s breath stuttered, and for a second, you thought he might finally give in.

His hands slid up your thighs, his fingers brushing beneath the hem of your shirt. His nails scraped lightly against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

But then—he exhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut before gripping your waist and flipping you onto your back in one swift motion.

A gasp left your lips as he hovered over you, his breath coming in uneven pants. His dark eyes were locked onto yours, a mix of frustration and want swirling in them.

“Angel,” he said, voice lower than before, “I swear to God…”

You swallowed hard, your chest rising and falling rapidly. “Swear what?”

San clenched his jaw. His thumb traced slow circles against your hip, his other hand braced beside your head, keeping himself from completely pressing against you.

“That if you weren’t still a little drunk, I’d show you exactly how much I want you.” His words were a low murmur, his lips just inches from yours.

But you didn’t stop. Instead, you pressed another kiss just below his jaw, your tongue flicking out to taste his skin before you sucked lightly, determined to leave a mark. A quiet groan rumbled in his chest, and you smirked against his skin, feeling victorious.

“You don’t fight fair,” he muttered, his hands sliding up your thighs, fingers teasing the hem of the shirt you wore.

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your eyes heavy with desire. “Then stop fighting.”

Something in San snapped.

His grip on you tightened, and in the next second, he flipped you onto your back, his body pressing firmly against yours. His lips crashed onto yours, no longer gentle—this was different, raw and filled with need.

A gasp escaped you as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips to taste you. His hands roamed your body, mapping out every curve, every inch of you that he had wanted for so long.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough.

You grinned, breathless. “Good.”

He let out a low chuckle, but it was cut off when you tugged him down by the collar of his shirt, kissing him harder, more desperately. His weight pressed you into the mattress, and you arched against him, wanting to be impossibly closer.

San’s lips trailed down your jaw, then your neck, his teeth grazing over the marks you had left on him just moments before. “You like marking me up, huh?” he muttered against your skin.

You hummed, threading your fingers through his hair. “You look good like this.”

His lips curled into a smirk, and then, without warning, he nipped at your pulse point, drawing a gasp from your lips.

Your fingers tightened in his hair as he continued his assault on your neck, pressing kisses, sucking lightly, then soothing each mark with his tongue. Your skin burned under his touch, your whole body alive with electricity.

“Sannie…” You whimpered, rolling your hips against him.

San groaned, his hands gripping your thighs to still your movements. His forehead dropped to your shoulder as he breathed heavily, trying to steady himself.

“You’re dangerous,” he whispered, voice thick with want.

You grinned against his temple, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Then what are you gonna do about it?”

San lifted his head, his dark eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

Then, in one swift motion, he pinned your wrists above your head, his smirk widening when you let out a surprised gasp.

“I guess,” he murmured, lips brushing against yours, “I’ll just have to teach you a lesson.”

And then he kissed you again—deeper, hungrier—no more hesitation. No more holding back.

But just as you thought you were about to get what you wanted, San exhaled a heavy breath, his lips brushing against yours in a brief, teasing kiss. His hands still hovered at the edge of your dress, not yet moving, as though trying to find the strength to hold back.

You heard him murmur, barely above a whisper, “Tomorrow.” He said. He was serious this time. He wasn't about to let you win this battle, nor his mind.

You froze for a moment, your eyes searching his face. The words hit you harder than you expected, like a punch to the chest. You couldn’t believe it. After everything that had built up, after the heat between you both, he was pulling away.

"Tomorrow?" you repeated, voice tinged with disbelief and frustration. You pouted a bit, but it didn't work on him.

San’s lips curled into a soft, apologetic smile, though there was something gentle in his expression, a softness that you didn’t expect. “Yeah, tomorrow,” he repeated, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “You’ve had enough for tonight.”

“But San…” you whined, a hint of desperation in your voice. “I don’t want to wait… I want this now.” You tried giving him those puppy eyes, and as much as they always worked, not this time...

His hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs gently brushing over your skin. “I know you do, love,” he murmured, his voice low but firm. “But tonight isn’t the night. You’re still a little drunk, and I’m not gonna take advantage of you. Not like this.”

You pouted, feeling a mix of frustration and disappointment flood through you. You had wanted him so badly, wanted to feel the warmth of his touch without hesitation. But even as you felt that desire stir within you, there was something in his gaze that made you pause.

San wasn’t doing this out of indifference. He was doing it because he cared, because he wanted to make sure that when this moment came, it would be right for both of you. And for that reason, you could almost forgive him.

“I’m not that drunk,” you muttered trying to convince him once more, your voice still soft, though the pout on your lips remained.

San chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I know, darling. But tomorrow, when you’re sober, it’ll mean more.”

A whimper escaped you, and you looked up at him, eyes pleading. “But I want you now… please, San…”

He smiled, a mixture of tenderness and determination in his gaze. “Patience, baby. Tomorrow, I promise. But tonight, let’s just be here together. No rushing. Just… us.”

You huffed, exasperated, but the soft affection in his voice settled the rest of your emotions. You weren’t quite ready to let go of the heat between you, but you knew—deep down—that San was right. This wasn’t about just tonight. It was about something more, something deeper than the rush of desire.

“Fine,” you sighed, leaning back against the headboard as you looked up at him. “Tomorrow, then.” You knew you couldn't fight back anymore.

San gave you a satisfied smile, brushing his thumb gently over your cheek. “Good girl,” he whispered, his voice quiet and soothing. “Get some sleep now. We’ll take our time tomorrow, I promise.

You huffed again, but there was no real bite to it. Despite your disappointment, you knew he was right.

San stood, his expression softening as he looked down at you, still lying in his bed, a little dejected and pouty from the earlier conversation. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before heading toward the closet to grab a change of clothes for you.

He returned with his favorite oversized hoodie and a pair of his boxers, the fabric soft and worn from the many times he’d worn them. As he approached the bed, you sat up slowly, still in your dress, feeling the weight of the night beginning to sink in. You had tried so hard to push the thoughts from your mind, but they kept resurfacing, like waves crashing relentlessly against the shore. The truth of what had happened—how your "friends" had used you, manipulated your kindness—seemed so much more painful now that the haze of alcohol was starting to lift.

You tried to keep your composure, but the sting in your chest was undeniable. Your fingers twisted in the fabric of your dress as you glanced up at San, who was kneeling beside you, his face soft with concern. He gently placed the clothes in your lap, but before you could respond, the emotions you’d been holding back all night began to swell up again. You swallowed thickly, trying to hold back the tears, but they were already threatening to spill over. You let out a tiny whimper.

“Hey,” San said, his voice soft but steady. He reached out to touch your shoulder, his fingers warm against your skin. “It’s okay. You don’t have to hide it.”

You shook your head, fighting to keep it together. “I just… I don’t know why they’d do that to me,” you muttered, the words feeling heavy in your throat. “I thought they were my friends, but it turns out they only wanted me around for drinks, for the fun. They didn’t care about me at all.”

San’s expression hardened, his jaw tightening. But he didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he took a deep breath and slowly helped you out of your dress, his hands gentle, as if trying to keep you from falling apart. You were gorgeous he thought. You were so beautiful. Sometimes he thought why didn't you have a boyfriend.. But now he had a chance. You loved him and he loved you.

Every movement, every brush of his fingers against your skin felt like an anchor, pulling you back from the storm swirling inside your chest. But the hurt was still there, gnawing at you, and the tears couldn’t be stopped.

Once you were dressed in his oversized hoodie and a pair of boxers, you climbed into his bed, curling up beneath the covers. The warmth of the fabric, the scent of him all around you, should’ve made you feel better—but it didn’t. Not yet.

San followed you into the bed, slipping under the covers and wrapping his arms around you. You nestled against his chest, trying to find solace in his warmth, but your mind refused to let go of the images from earlier. How your "friends" had abandoned you, laughed about you behind your back, and used you when it suited them. You had trusted them. You had believed in them. But it had all been a lie.

“I don’t get it, San,” you whispered, the tears falling freely now. “I don’t get why they’d do that. Why didn’t they just tell me? Why didn’t they treat me like I mattered?” You felt a tear run down your face.

San’s chest tightened at the sound of your voice cracking, and he pulled you in even closer as if trying to shield you from the world and everything that had hurt you. He didn’t speak right away, allowing you the space to cry, to release the pain that had built up in you for so long. It wasn’t about the drinks, the party—it was about the betrayal. It was about realizing that the people you had opened your heart to had never truly cared.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” San finally spoke, his voice low but firm. “You cared. You trusted. That’s not a mistake.”

“But they… they used me, San,” you choked out, your words shaking. "They were never my friends.”

“They never deserved your friendship,” he said quietly, his voice full of conviction. “You were always just too good to them. You didn’t deserve that, Y/N. Not from anyone.”

You sniffed, wiping your eyes, but the hurt wasn’t going away. It felt like a weight on your chest that was too heavy to bear. You felt exposed—vulnerable. You had always tried so hard to be there for people, but in the end, they had all just taken what they could get and left you empty.

“But why did I have to find out this way?” you asked, your voice soft and broken. “Why couldn’t they just be honest with me from the start?”

San’s arms tightened around you again, his hand running soothingly up and down your back. “Because people who don’t know how to appreciate what they have, they always take. And when they take everything, they leave you with nothing.”

You nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. The anger was still there, but it wasn’t as sharp as it had been before. It was more of a dull ache now. The betrayal was fresh, and it still hurt—but somehow, with San holding you, with him comforting you, it didn’t seem as insurmountable. He made you feel like maybe things could be okay again, eventually.

“You don’t have to be alone in this,” San whispered, his voice full of a tenderness you weren’t used to hearing. “Not anymore. You’ve got me, Y/N. You’ve always had me.”

You pulled away just enough to look up at him, your teary eyes meeting his. There was so much unspoken in the air, so many things left unsaid, but somehow, the silence between you both felt like an unbreakable bond. The pain, the rawness—it was still there, but there was also something else.

Something deeper.

“You’re the only one who’s ever really been there for me,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you met his gaze. “I don’t want to lose you, San. Please don’t let me go. I… I need you.” You whimper out.

San’s hand cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing away the fresh tear that had fallen. His gaze softened, but there was a hint of hesitation in his eyes. He took a slow, steady breath, his expression unreadable for a moment, before he spoke.

“Y/N, you don’t ever have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.”

You felt a little comforted by his words, but the storm inside of you wasn’t quite over yet. As you closed your eyes and leaned into him once more, the weight of everything that had happened—the hurt, the betrayal, the anger—still lingered like an invisible cloud. It wasn’t gone. And as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, it was hard not to wonder…

San’s hand stroked your hair as you leaned into him, your head resting against his chest. “Let’s go to bed,” he murmured. “I’ll be here with you. No matter what happens, I’ll be right here.”

You nodded, feeling the exhaustion beginning to catch up with you. It wasn’t just physical fatigue—it was emotional, the weight of everything you had experienced tonight. And yet, despite it all, you felt a sense of peace settle over you as you allowed yourself to let go of the fear, just for a moment.

“I love you, Choi San..”

“I love you too, my perfect angel...”

As San tucked you into his side, he gave you a kiss on your forehead and then a peck on your lips., your mind wandered back to earlier—to the betrayal, to the hurt, to the people who had never deserved your trust. But now, lying next to him, feeling his warmth and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

you realized that maybe, just maybe, you could let yourself trust again...

[yujisdreamgirl]

Love and Lies

satoru gojo x reader

cw: drunk confessions, angst(?)

“how many times are you gonna do this, hm?” gojo grunts, carrying dragging a drunk you back to your place.

you mutter something inaudibly, gojo paying no mind to it as he focuses on getting you safely home.

“no.”

“no?” he turns to you confused.

“i dun wann go home..too lonely.”

gojo’s gaze softens, although his playful smirk still appears.

“pffft, you just wanna be in my sheets.”

he winces as you hit his head hard, “ow! i didn’t mean it like that, baby! i know you love my soft, $700 king sized bed.”

“you’re stupid..”

“i’m already helping your drunk ass yet you still bully me? ugh, you wound me.” gojo chuckles, putting his hand on his heart as he gasps dramatically.

after an uncomfortable length of silence and carrying you home, you spoke up.

“‘m sorry..”

gojo raises his eyebrow, “i know you are. you don’t think straight when you’re drunk, it’s okay.”

“i just.. haven’t been feeling well lately”

“…so you think drowning yourself in alcohol would make things better?” he sighs. “you’re lucky i’m here to take care of ya.”

you sigh guiltily, knowing he’s right. “yeah..”

when you get to his apartment, you immediately flop onto his bed—no hesitation, no questions asked.

gojo smiles as he gazes at you softly.

“alright, pretty girl. let’s get you comfy.”

he sits you up under the blanket, taking note of you tear stained cheeks.

“baby, what’s wrong?” he says as he wipes your tears away.

“i just- i don’t know what to do, satoru..” you sniffle.

“what do you mean you don’t know what to do?” he asks with a gentle tone, “you could start by taking more care of yourself. you don’t need to drink away your problems. not when i’m here at least.”

you wipe your tears aggressively, words caught up in your throat. “how can i do that when all my problems root from the people i can talk to?”

he pauses. his eyebrows furrow with concern, gently rubbing your arms as comfort.

“you’re.. afraid to talk about how you feel, huh?” you nod. he knows that feeling all too well. he’s given his all to protect you, that he forgot about this aspect of your well-being.

“hey, it’s okay!” he desperately tries to sound optimistic. “you don’t have to feel pressured, but you know you can always talk to me, right?”

a frown casts upon your face, “not when it’s about you.”

what?

panic stirs within gojo. what had he done for you to resort to alcohol? did he do something to greatly offend you? he knows he annoys you too much, but that’s just because you’re his best friend!

“what.. did i do something?”

when you don’t reply, your eyes half lidded and posture hunched over, gojo thinks he’s done the unspeakable. the kind of action that could make you write a whole book about it.

“..i like you.” your face lights up with sadness, a look clinging onto a thread of desperation.

a shiver ran down gojo’s soul. how could this happen? not even his six eyes could predict this.

you take gojo’s silence as an unspoken rejection, the disbelief in his eyes saying everything. “i’m sorry,”

gojo’s expression softens, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and slightly pulling his comforting hands away from your arms.

“hey, don’t apologise. there’s nothing to be sorry about, you just.. took me by surprise, that’s all.”

you look up at him, eyes glistening with tears.

“you.. what do you feel?”

he sighs, a mixture of longing and contemplation cast upon his face.

“i don’t know. i care about you, a lot more than i care to admit.” he chuckles, “you’re my best friend but i.. i haven’t really allowed myself to consider anything more than that.”

oh.

that was the cherry on top.

he panics, scrambling to find the words to ensure things don’t stay awkward between you two.

“look, it’s not that i haven’t thought about it before. you know, the possibility of us being more than friends” he gulps. “i just don’t want to ruin everything we have and what we’ve been through together.”

your heart aches, you can’t help but look away from the man you love.

“but you won’t.. how would you?”

“I don’t know,” he admits honestly. “i guess.. i’m just afraid that if things go wrong between us, it would change what we have now. i don’t want to risk losing our friendship if things don’t work out romantically.”

he has a point, but what good does it cause you? pining over your best friend, only to hear that he feels the same way but also doesn’t because he’s too stuck over your friendship? it’s all too complicated for your intoxicated mind.

“but… i also can’t ignore what you just said,” he says, looking into your eyes. “you said you like me, i.. i can’t just disregard that. it’s just a lot to process, especially in your current state. i want to be sure you really mean what you said.”

you choke on your silent sobs, muttering out a soft “i do mean it..”

“i believe you..” he says, his voice filled with a touch of vulnerability. “but… let’s talk about this more when you’re sober, okay? i don’t want us making any rash decisions and conversations right now, not when we’re both this emotional and vulnerable.”

you nod apprehensively, allowing yourself to sink into the comfy bed sheets.

“we’ll talk more in the morning, okay? i’ll be here when you wake up.”

and just like that, the door closes and all that fills the air is tension and unspoken truths.

mixed signals go crazy🫨🫨

[itsnesss]

𝐏.𝐒. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬; minho moon ( series ) O2

pairing ; minho moon x female!reader

content ; fluff, romantic tension, angst, personal conflicts, rivalry, enemies to lovers

summary ; you never imagined your life would change so much with a simple exchange. in canada, everything was predictable, but when the chance to study in seoul came, you took it. you met minho. a tall, serious guy with a cold attitude who made you feel even more out of place. from the very beginning, you hated each other. every encounter was filled with disdainful looks and harsh words. your first meeting was so uncomfortable that all you wanted was to escape his indifference. but as time went on, you realized that minho wasn’t just an obstacle—he was the beginning of something unexpected. what started with hatred and a simple fall led to a connection that made you feel more alive than ever

status ; ongoing !!

— navigation ; OO1. OO2.

TWO ; P.S. People Often Judge

You walk towards the dormitory with a slight sense of frustration. There were no available rooms for you after talking to the director. When you arrive, the girls are already settled.

"Hey, Kitty," you say, trying to sound calm. "How are we going to organize ourselves for sleeping?"

Kitty, with a somewhat uncomfortable smile, looks up.

"Well, Yuri and Julianna decided to share a bed. So, you’ll sleep with me. At least you won’t have to sleep on the couch, right?" Kitty laughs, but there’s something in her tone that makes you think she’s not entirely comfortable with the situation.

You nod, relieved that you won’t have to sleep on the couch, but you can’t help but feel awkward.

That night, when everyone settles in to sleep, you move closer to Kitty.

"Kitty, has anything weird been going on with the girls?" you ask, bluntly.

Kitty looks at you, a little surprised by the question. She doesn’t know how to respond, but when she sees your expression, she knows you want to talk.

"A bit. I feel like there’s something uncomfortable, especially with Yuri and Julianna. They’re always... sticking together. It’s weird."

You nod, feeling a slight melancholy in your gaze.

"I try to keep myself busy so I’m not the third wheel." Kitty sighs. "But the truth is, I like Yuri, and I didn’t know how to tell her. I wrote a letter. But when I got here, she was already back with Julianna. It was a blow for me." Kitty laughs bitterly.

You look at her in silence. You didn’t expect such a personal revelation from Kitty, and it makes you feel a deeper connection to her. Kitty, always so extroverted, seems to be struggling with something much deeper.

"Wow, Kitty, I didn’t know…" you say, genuinely surprised.

Kitty smiles with a mix of sadness and gratitude.

"It’s not something I talk about much, but... well, thanks for listening." Kitty shifts a bit in bed, trying to get comfortable.

You nod, knowing that you understand more than she thinks. Despite the tension of the past hours, you feel closer to Kitty now.

The next day starts like any other, until you walk into the room where Mr. Moon’s project is going to take place. Kitty, as always, is with you, talking about anything to pass the time. However, before entering the room, you stop when you hear a conversation that makes you feel more distant than ever.

"I don’t like Stella that much," Minho says, with a casual attitude that doesn’t go unnoticed.

Kitty, surprised, asks with a teasing smile:

"Really? Doesn’t she appeal to you at all?"

Minho doesn’t beat around the bush:

"No, she doesn’t appeal to me. I saw her at the event, and there’s no chemistry. I don’t know, she’s just not my type." Minho shrugs indifferently. "What about you, though? How do you feel about Y/N?"

Your chest tightens when you hear your name. You can’t help it. The pain starts seeping into your chest.

Kitty responds with a nervous laugh:

"Well, yeah, Y/N is a good girl. I don’t understand why you’re asking, Minho."

Minho, with his usual tone, grimaces.

"I don’t know, I feel like something’s off about her. She doesn’t really convince me."

You freeze. It’s like you’ve been hit in the stomach. That’s the confirmation of something you already suspected. Minho doesn’t see you in a good light, and the discomfort you feel seems to be mutual. Without letting anyone see you, you turn away, your heart full of disappointment, and quickly walk off.

You walk briskly down the hall, not looking back. Minho’s words hit you like a wave, a cold pain slowly filtering into your chest. You don’t understand why he said it, why he made those assumptions about you when he doesn’t even know you well. What right did Minho have to say something like that? You think, your hands gripping the edges of your jacket as if you could erase the feeling of rejection that’s settled in your body.

At first, you try to ignore your own feelings, telling yourself it’s just a conversation without importance, something fleeting. But Minho’s words keep echoing in your head. He made assumptions without knowing you, and not only that, but he tried to sow doubt in Kitty. Why did he think he had the right to judge you?

The idea of going to the cafeteria seems like a useful distraction, so you head there to get something hot to drink.

When you arrive, you head to the coffee machine, hoping the smell of the brew can calm your anxiety. You take your drink in silence, watching as the other students chat and laugh, unaware of what’s going on in your head. You don’t want to think about Minho, but it’s impossible not to. The words he said about you, his assumptions about your life, all of it hurts.

With your drink in hand, you head to the Art Expression room. You don’t feel like socializing, but at least there you can focus on something different for a while. When you enter the classroom, you see Kitty, who is already sitting.

"Hi, Kitty," you say, dropping your backpack on the table before sitting down.

"Hey, Y/N! How’s it going?" Kitty responds, looking at you out of the corner of her eye but not pressing too much.

You sigh, preferring to leave the topic from the morning behind. But just as you’re about to say something else, Minho walks in. His presence fills the room immediately, as it always does. You tense up, and a thought quickly crosses your mind:

"It can’t be…"

Minho walks straight to his seat without even looking at you, but you already know it will be impossible to avoid any kind of interaction. The tension between you two has been in the air since the morning, and you feel it.

As if he hadn’t noticed the heavy atmosphere, Minho casts a mocking glance at you before speaking.

"Wow, what a coincidence. Seriously, can’t you sit somewhere else?" he says, looking at your seat with a mixture of annoyance and sarcasm.

Kitty, seeing the tension beginning to rise, quickly intervenes.

"Come on, guys. Can you stop fighting for five minutes? It’s not that serious," Kitty says, rolling her eyes and placing her hand in the center of the table, as if she’s some sort of mediator.

The atmosphere in the classroom becomes tense for a moment, but soon the door opens with force, interrupting the conversation. All the students turn to look at the entrance. The man who appears is tall, with a firm and elegant posture. It’s none other than Mr. Moon, Minho’s father, who is also the teacher in charge of the class. A murmur of surprise spreads across the room.

"Good morning, students," Mr. Moon greets in an authoritative voice. "Today we’re going to do something different. This isn’t just any class."

You and the rest of the students pay attention. What could he have in mind?

"Today we’ll determine who among you will earn a spot in the Advanced Voice program. We’ll also decide who we’ll cut off the mic as judges."

A feeling of excitement and nervousness fills the room. Some students seem excited, others tense. You, though somewhat surprised, can’t deny that the idea of participating in such an important event gives you a mix of anxiety and adrenaline.

"Each of you will present your performance, and I will be scoring. I’ve prepared a sheet with options for notes, so make sure you’re ready. Remember, it’s not just about talent; it’s about the connection you manage to convey. Trust your instincts," Mr. Moon adds.

You try to calm your nerves. You look at your sheet, quickly writing down some notes, before looking at the rest of the class. Minho, of course, seems completely confident, while Kitty can’t help but look at you with curiosity.

Finally, Mr. Moon begins to listen to each of the students. The room fills with singing, some more confident than others. You watch carefully, noticing how Minho, despite his arrogance, has a presence that draws attention. However, it’s not the only thing that stands out that morning.

At the end of the exercise, Mr. Moon begins announcing the results. Dae is the first to receive praise. Mr. Moon looks at him and says firmly:

"Dae has received unanimous approval. Well done!"

The class breaks into applause, and you can’t help but feel relieved for Dae, though your mind is preoccupied with what’s coming next.

Mr. Moon continues with the ratings until it’s Stella’s turn.

"Stella, I’m afraid I can’t accept your performance. Only one person voted for you... and that was the only one who agreed that your presentation had something to offer," Mr. Moon says with a neutral tone.

Stella stands in silence for a moment, looking at the other students before speaking.

"I didn’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings," she says softly, referring to Minhee, who is in the same row.

Minho, who has been silent, can’t help but intervene.

"He’s hurtful to let someone with no talent think they have what it takes," Minho says with a cold look, making it clear that he doesn’t plan to soften his words.

You feel the anger starting to build inside you.

"And what do you know about what it takes?" you respond quickly, not thinking too much about your words. "Maybe the problem is that you think too highly of yourself to judge others without seeing what they really have."

Mr. Moon watches the interaction between the two before speaking again.

"Minho is right, in part. Sometimes the truth hurts, but it’s better to know it. We can’t let false talent take over something this important."

Annoyed but unwilling to let it go, you just looked at Minho one last time. You didn’t know what he was thinking, but something told you that your teacher’s words wouldn’t be the last word in the internal battle you felt toward him.

After a long and exhausting day, you finally returned to your dorm. The living room was empty; your roommates had gone to a gay club. A mix of relief and loneliness filled your chest. You had the whole place to yourself, with no interruptions. You decided to take advantage of the quiet to do homework and disconnect from everything that had happened.

Sitting at your desk, surrounded by books and papers, you slowly worked through your assignments while thinking about what had happened with Minho that morning. You felt exhausted, as if you were incapable of understanding everything that was going on. Despite trying to focus on your studies, your mind kept returning to him—the boy who had turned your life into chaos in such a short time.

When you finished your homework, you collapsed onto your bed, deciding to take a break. You grabbed a bowl of ice cream from the fridge and turned on the TV, looking for a romantic movie to help you forget, even for a little while, the tension you felt. You couldn't allow Minho to keep occupying so much space in your mind.

It was late, and your roommates still hadn’t returned, so you enjoyed the peacefulness of the room. However, something bothered you: Stella had gone out with Minho. What did he see in Stella? You didn’t understand. You couldn’t deny that you felt a little jealous, though you didn’t even want to admit it to yourself. What was Minho doing with a girl like Stella? It was hard to comprehend.

As you got lost in your thoughts, your phone vibrated. It was your sister. You decided to answer, hoping for some comfort in the call.

"Y/N? How’s everything going?" she asked in a calm voice.

"Hey, sis," you replied, relieved to hear her. "I’ve had a weird day. I’m here, doing homework, eating ice cream, and watching a movie… I don’t know, I’m just a little confused."

"Why?" she asked, noticing the tension in your voice.

You took a deep breath and told her everything you had been going through.

"I understand how you feel," your sister responded. "But remember, you can’t control what people do. You have to focus on yourself. That’s why you went all the way to Korea."

You weren’t sure if you felt better after the call, but at least you had a different perspective. You decided to go outside for a bit, get some fresh air, and clear your mind.

As you left your room and walked down the hallway, you ran into Minho. He was standing there as if he had been waiting to see you at that moment. You looked at him and, without being able to help it, frowned.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, trying to control your tone, but your frustration was already evident.

As you walked toward the building’s corner, you heard footsteps. You looked up, and to your surprise, you came face to face with Minho.

"Seriously?" you said, unable to hide the surprise in your voice. You didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to deal with him again, but there he was.

Minho looked at you with a cynical smile, almost as if he had been expecting this to happen.

"What’s wrong, Y/N? Were you hoping I wouldn’t find you here?" he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Without thinking twice, you immediately responded, showing all your disdain.

"And what do you want now, Minho? Keep making annoying comments and thinking you can tell me what to do?" You were fed up. There was no way you were going to tolerate more of his jokes and condescending attitude.

Minho raised an eyebrow, clearly unaffected. His expression was full of arrogance.

"I’m just here to remind you that you’re not as special as you think, Y/N. Sometimes, you need to come down from that cloud you live on. You think you can control everything, but you can’t."

You clenched your fists, struggling to keep your composure. You stepped up to him quickly and gave him a shove, not caring what he thought.

"You know what? I’m so done with you, Minho. You’re full of assumptions, opinions I didn’t even ask for. Do you really think you have the right to talk to me like that? To make me feel like I’m beneath you?" your voice was tense and fierce.

Minho, unfazed by your shove, didn’t move an inch. He stood there, watching you with a mix of irritation and arrogance.

"You have a lot to learn, Y/N. Maybe not everyone is here to please you, did you know that?" he said, stepping closer, his voice laced with disdain.

You glared at him, your eyes burning with anger. You couldn’t believe you were standing there, letting him act like he had control of the situation.

"You know what?" you challenged, your tone sharp. "Enough. Do you still think you’re better than me just because you have some talent and people adore you? Well, don’t be mistaken, Minho—I have my own strengths, and I don’t need your approval."

Minho smirked, unfazed.

"I never said you needed my approval. I’m just making it clear that not everything revolves around you."

Without wanting to hear more, you turned around and walked quickly back to your dorm, leaving Minho behind. There was nothing else to discuss. Every word he said only fueled your hatred toward him. And you weren’t going to stop.

With your heart racing and your stomach in knots, you slammed the door shut as you entered your room, searching for the peace you so desperately needed. Why did Minho have to be like this? What did he want from you? The only thing you knew for sure was that the more you saw him, the more you hated him.

The day of the relay race competition arrived, and the atmosphere was filled with tension. Students lined up on the track, eager to prove their skills, but something was off. Q wasn’t among the runners.

"Where’s Q?" Kitty asked, her voice full of concern as she scanned the empty field. Dae and you looked around too, frowning.

"I don’t know…" Dae replied, glancing around as if expecting him to appear at any moment. "Where is he?!"

You sighed and crossed your arms, looking at the clock that marked the start time of the competition. Something wasn’t right. Q would never miss such an important race. Suddenly, an idea flashed through your mind, like a spark igniting a warning light.

"What if… Jin made him disappear so he couldn’t compete?" you murmured, causing Kitty to react with shock and anger.

"That would make total sense… He was at the bar with him all night, and Jin would totally do something like that, wouldn’t he?" Kitty said, eyeing the competition organizers.

"We can’t let it start, not without Q," Dae said, looking at you with concern. You nodded, already starting to plan a way to interfere.

"We need to act fast," you say with determination, feeling adrenaline rush through your body. Kitty gives you a quick glance before turning toward the track, her mind clearly working at full speed.

"You know what? I have an idea," she suddenly says, her tone filled with excitement. Before you can ask, you see her striding confidently toward a table where an organizer had left a microphone unattended.

Your eyes widen as she grabs it without hesitation and brings it to her mouth.

"Come on, everyone! Let’s cheer for the runners!" she exclaims with exaggerated enthusiasm.

But the silence that follows is deafening. Only a few murmurs ripple through the crowd, and though the discomfort is obvious, Kitty remains unfazed. Instead, she starts jumping, waving her arms as if that alone could ignite energy in the spectators.

"Come on, guys! Get excited, join in!" she insists, but all she gets in return are laughter and a few boos. The organizers, now visibly annoyed, approach her, signaling for her to leave the track.

"No, I’m not leaving!" she shouts, gripping the microphone stubbornly.

You take a deep breath, feeling desperation creeping in. They can't just kick her out, not after everything you've tried.

"I can’t believe I’m about to do this…" you mutter, closing your eyes for a second before moving toward her.

Without giving anyone time to react, you dramatically collapse to the ground.

The impact isn't too strong, but you force yourself to stay still. Instantly, the murmurs grow louder. You hear gasps, whispers of concern spreading through the crowd.

"What’s happening?" someone asks.

You sense Kitty’s presence close by.

"Help! Someone, please!" she shouts, her voice perfectly mimicking panic.

Rushed footsteps approach. You’d recognize that walk anywhere. Before you can react, Minho kneels beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Y/L/N, are you okay?" he asks, his voice carrying a mix of concern and amusement.

For a moment, you hesitate. Is he actually worried, or is he just enjoying watching you in this situation?

You crack one eye open slightly and murmur in a tired voice, "I’m trying to create a distraction, idiot."

The way he rolls his eyes and frowns almost makes you laugh, but you hold it in. He steps back, crossing his arms, though he doesn’t leave entirely.

Just as you start wondering if the plan is actually working, an eruption of cheers and applause sweeps through the crowd. Q comes sprinting onto the track, his figure instantly recognizable.

You spring to your feet, abandoning all pretense, and a triumphant smile spreads across your face as the students begin chanting his name.

"Q! Q! Q!"

You did it. Q is on the track. The race is about to begin.

But your joy fades quickly as the competition starts. Jin, with his usual confidence, surges ahead effortlessly, and even though Q gives it his all, it’s not enough. Jin crosses the finish line first, raising the trophy with his signature smug grin.

Your jaw tightens. After all that effort… Jin is still the winner.

"That was painful to watch," Dae comments with a nervous laugh beside you.

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation.

"At least we tried," Kitty says, giving you a knowing smile.

You nod slowly, because even though the outcome wasn’t what you had hoped for, at least you did everything you could. And deep down, you know this isn’t over yet.

tags ; @snowyblossomsx @awhrin @rkivesfilm @dangelnleif

[nottivagos]

https://www.tumblr.com/buralaryalannstuff/773302179869163520?source=share

this is SO stalker!carlos comforting reader (could also be me) (please)

no idea attached to this, i just saw it and had to share it!!

- 🐇

an: i'm not classing this as a notebook post because there's no filth. it's basically a long ass idea (poorly written, i'm too tired for grammar today) that has been in my drafts for ages. on that note, more and more every day i believe we are the same person, 🐇anon because HOW DID WE GET THE SAME POST AND SAME IDEA IN THE SAME DAY?!?!?!?

it was the same as it usually was. a bad dream followed by carlos’s arms around you, your emotional state confused by the emotions you were feeling. your mind frantic as it was on overdrive.

the dream was always vivid and constant, as if you were living in the moment again. he’d come around for dinner, that charming look glimmering in his eye as he passed you that wine glass, before they had darkened upon your first sip. 

then it was fuzzy. the distant crack of a mobile phone followed by some muffled words. did you even finish your food? that you couldn’t remember. you must’ve done, surely. what was it again? it was definitely hearty— warming, even. then it was darkness. you could remember being awoken by that bumpy dirt track, before carlos pressed a sweet finger on your lips, cooing you so you’d fall back asleep again. to which you did with no protests.

the next phase, however, was more corrupted and stark. carlos’s uncontrollable rage when you tried to leave for the first time, the pathetic tears that shed and burnt your cheeks from the fact that they fell so uncontrollably. the sheer fear followed by a half-assed “i’m sorry, cariño” as he held you that night, before laying you ever so gently onto his lap, toying with your hair absentmindedly in the silence of your new home. the forest and your little cottage. that stupid, stupid dream he’d made a fucking reality, even if it was being seen through rose tinted glasses. 

then came the lack of contact with your parents and friends. carlos’s sweet words when he tried to explain that you didn’t need them anymore. that first christmas you’d both shared, the new phone he’d gifted you with the numbers he thought you needed already put into it. the way “my love” rolled off his lips whenever he walked into a room to see you. that stupid smile you always smiled when he did so, followed by a pounding heart and an afraid face whenever his body language tensed at something you’d done or said that he didn’t approve of. 

“oh my sweet girl,” broke you out of your frantic thoughts. carlos then sighed, brushing your hair from your eyes with a large hand in a sweet gesture. it felt right being here like this. in carlos’s embrace, feeling his warmth as burly arms cradled your sobbing form, engulfing you with his size like a blanket of love and safety.

a choked sob followed. your big watery eyes came to look up at his caring brown doe ones as you sniffled, rosy coloured lips formed into a pout as your cheeks stained crimson and stung from the salty tears you’d shed.

“what are these tears for, hmm?” he consoled ever so gently, his thick accent like the calm in the storm as calloused pads of his thumbs came to brush some stray tears from your cheeks, coming to cup your face. “it’s just a dream, nena. just a dream,” he whispered as if he was talking to a child.

you were too emotional to speak. sobs were the only thing to escape your lips, throat dry as you strangled yourself in your own overwhelming sadness. 

“that’s alright,” carlos soothed, pressing your face back against his chest as you continued to cry. “we can talk about it later,” he murmured into your ear, pressing a loving kiss against your temple whilst a hand came to tangle in your hair whilst cupping the back of your head.

“i-i’m sorry,” your croaky voice managed merely a whisper of an apology, nuzzling your face into his chest. carlos knew you’d ruin his shirt with your messed up mascara, but he was willing to sacrifice that if it meant you were safe and happy in his arms. 

“shh,” he was quick to shush you, pressing another loving peck against the top of your head as he sighed contently. “there’s no need to talk right now,” carlos mumbled, “just let it all out,” his other hand coming to wrap around your waist, his thumb brushing up and down your spine gently in soothing motions.

and it was in these moments that it felt pure with carlos. he cared. of course he fucking cared, he was the only one for you. he believed in his own sick and twisted way. your soul and life was his, but all in all, was it so bad? a few night terrors were easily fixed in these moments as carlos kissed away your tears, whispering those sweet words you desperately needed to hear into your ear as you just hopelessly let him comfort you. like always. and forever. <3

[emwallas176]

Episode 4x09 of Smallville was genuinely so confusing. Not only was the cold open so traumatizing but then the moral gymnastics that happens for the rest of the episode (and onward) is so confounding.

So the whole premise of the episode is that Lex sleeps around so much that he can’t even remember the names and faces of the women he sleeps with. Strange and concerning on multiple levels. Even if this was completely in character (which I don’t think it is), it is still highly concerning to forget the names and faces of people you’ve been intimate with. I think they said 13 women in the last year. While that’s not a low number, I don’t think it’s high enough to cause such forgetfulness. Therefore it almost seems to imply that there’s a level of disassociation that happens on Lex’s part during the experience (you can’t form new memories if you weren’t really paying attention when they happened). This theory is also backed up by the fact that Lex admits at the end of the episode that he has suicidal thoughts, and (very) unattached sex could be a negative coping mechanism for these dark emotions. As we can see at the start of the episode, Lex looks sad and completely alone at the event. And immediately after that he jumps into bed with someone. There’s clearly a connection there (at least in my mind).

All of the above, however, is not what confuses me. It’s the other characters that I don’t understand. First you have Clark who comes in (as seems to be becoming his pattern) guns blazing and accusatory. Of course this might be warranted seeing as Lex has been quite soundly framed for murder but I digress. During their talk and with what he finds out later, Clark gets very up in arms about Lex having sex with a lot of women. Despite whether this is right or wrong of him to do, it makes absolutely no sense for why it would drive Clark into LIONEL’S arms. Especially bc Lionel admits later on that Lex learned the behavior (sleeping with women and leaving them with a pair of diamond earrings) from Lionel himself?? Like it’s bad and dishonest if Lex does it but apparently makes Lionel trustworthy?? I’m confused. Also! Let’s not forget the fact that Lionel slept with another woman while his wife was DYING! But sure, Lex is the sexually deviant one. Sure.

Also, I feel like there is a lot of disconnect between how Lex and Alicia (in later episodes) are treated. Like Lex sleeps with women (consensually) and almost gets killed by one of them and Clark tells him that he doesn’t know if he can trust him anymore. Alicia forces Clark to marry her and almost forces him to have sex with her (read: non-consensual!) and the next episode she and Clark are dating again. Also, Lex gets framed for murder and when he’s found innocent, Clark rescues him, yes, but at the end of the day he still doesn’t trust Lex. Alicia gets framed for murder and is found innocent (and dies, unfortunately (seriously that was such a shocking death what the hell Smallville?!)) and Clark feels guilty and regretful and tells his parents he wishes he believed her sooner. Now I get that these two situations aren’t quite the same but the different reactions that Clark and the other characters have feel more like the writers playing into future roles (Lex is the villain, yada, yada) rather than actually looking at the characters as they are now.

I think I would have enjoyed the episode more if I’d understood what it was trying to say. Are you trying to say that Lex is “showing a different, darker side of himself” by not caring about the women he sleeps with? Okay then why is it okay for Lionel to do. Are you trying to say that sex in general is bad? Then why have Alicia be forgiven? Why have Lana trying to loose her virginity to Jason? In the end, the episode just left me feeling really frustrated bc I felt like there was something I was supposed to get but I just didn’t get it.

[imliterallyf7ckin9crazy]

꧁✬⋆°◦. 𝓢𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓭 𝓖𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓒𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 ⋆°◦✬꧂

Gi hun if you died

Characters: gi hun (player 456)

Warnings: angst obvi, death and canon violence,descriptions of dead people and blood, mental breakdowns, typical things that happens when someone close to someone else dies tragically idk. Also not edited we ball

A/N: these are kinda short but I’m deciding to write for evil and make something sad.

———-

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 456

- you already know he would be hysterical. Did you see him with sae byeok, sang woo and jung bae?

- doesn’t matter if you knew him outside the games or met inside, I feel like if he cared about you he’d be heart broken

- if you knew him on the outside he would have at the start vowed within himself to get you out. He would also tell you to stay close to him like he did Jung bae. He’d constantly have a look out for you and insist you stay in his team.

- gi hun after everything isn’t the type for grand gestures or anything but his care for you is clear. He will definitely share his food, tell you to sleep in his proximity, constantly checking in. He’s 100% worried all the time and all the more determined to you out (along with the others ofc)

- he’d be giving you advice, comforting you, watching over you at night. He’s your rock in the games and even if you don’t know it your his rock too

- you are kinda the thing he clings to. Not physically, but emotionally. He needs to see that you’re ok all the time and that he can get to you if you need saving. He talks to the other players about teamwork and looking out for each other and he does believe that but he’s also trying to cement people to look after you if he dies.

- you trusted him and always believed what he told you. You and the few people in his trusted circle know he isn’t crazy and know he really has played before. One of them particularly so.

- after the successful over take of the guards after lights out you had helped everyone prepare to invade. You were very anxious to let your precious gi hun run a war with no were to escape from. But he told you he could never live with himself if he didn’t do EVERYTHING he could to get you out, even if it meant sacrificing himself to do it.

- you noticed friend young il always seemed to be a step ahead. Constantly hanging around gi hun and by proxy you. To you it almost seemed like he saw something no one else could. He had a confidence no normal person would have in a death game. It’s not even artificial like thanos’ drug induced euphoria.

- you and Jung bae have discussed young il before and how for some reason you both couldn’t shake that something about him was wrong. You had no proof between the both of you but vibes, but it felt very comforting to know someone understood what you were talking about. Gi hun never picked up on any of it

- eventually you let them go to their battle in the fun house like room everyone had to go though to get to the actual game rooms. You gave him a hug and made him promise to come back. With teary eyes you said good luck to Jung bae, that you were rooting for dae ho, and that Hyun-ju was one of the most inspirational women you’ve ever met (bc she is :3).

- you said something to young il as well. You said “please stay safe, young il. I hope to see you soon” because although you thought he was odd you didn’t want him dead. But all he did was smile in a way you haven’t seen him yet. Like you said something amusing but he couldn’t say what it was or laugh yet. with that 120 led everyone out into the battle field.

- you had to stay in the dorms with everyone who stayed behind and waited for the battle team to return. There was an odd silence among everyone. You would have thought fights would have broken out between the X and O teams while the fight raged on but in reality everyone just kinda of froze. There was nothing else to do really other than wait for the outcome.

- sadly the outcome you hoped for was too far fetched even for this reality

- once in ho turned and brought the hammer down he was primarily focused on hurting gi hun in the worse ways possible. He spent all his time in the games watching and learning about everything ‘gi hun’ is. He’s caring, compassionate and for the most part understanding was well as brave/daring and a tad foolish. He values people’s lives and stories, the nuance in every person. He believes in people. That’s probably why he cares for you (maybe even loves you) . because he knows your story and he believes in you anyway. He sees your mistakes and shortcomings and stills sees the person underneath it all.

- and you are one of the only people in the world to know the gi hun that once was. You are able to love both versions of himself, the old and the new. You bring balance between them both and help him remain stable and motivated. Just as much as he believes in you, you make him believe in him self.

- in ho was able to notice all of that in the short time he saw you both interact in the games. So he planned accordingly. You and Jung bae (aside from his daughter I suppose) were quite literally the all he had left of gi huns old life. The last fragments of when his life was even remotely normal.

- all in ho saw in you was the moment that happened just after the call was made. Pink soldiers rushed the dormitory and began firing. You hear the slow stop of gunfire upstairs. They found you by number after resecuring the area and lead you out into what was the battle field. You saw countless bodies of both gaurd and player, people you had come to know and some from the O team you had come to fear. Although in this moment you still mourned them as you felt there was no difference anymore. There was blood plastered from ceiling to walls to floor in semi dried blood that was beginning to congeal from the air and the smell was sickening.

- you were lead through a complex maze of colorful walls and doors until you reached a all purple area. It was at that time you heard two very familiar voices. You turned a corner to see Jung bae and gi hun held at gun point by a strange looking man in an all grey coat and black geometric maskon the ground. Jung baes eyes were watery and fearful while gi huns were filled with rage and hatered. Until he saw you at least, then it all locked into place. He wasn’t stupid, he could read between the lines. You were brought here for a reason.

- you were suddenly thrown to the ground and held down a gaurd in front of gi hun and Jung bae as you began to scream. The realization hit you as well of course. You began to beg as well as gi hun. You to spare your life and gi hun to save you by saying you had nothing to do with what was between them. He seemed unfazed, much to your horror.

- “look at the consequences of your little hero game” the figure said with the signature deep robotic voice changer as he pointed the gun to your writhing and sobbing form on the ground. You turned to gi him with wide eyes, crying relentlessly as he stared back at you. He began to fight against the guards holding him, and it took a few. Jung bae even tried but to no avail. All you could muster was a small and pathetic “gi hun-“

- and all he could do was watch the only person who really truly knew both sides of him. The person who was there for him before and after the games. All he could do was watch one who brought purpose and guidance to him and kept his head on straights skull get peirced by a single bullet barely a few feet away. He screamed his lungs out as he began to weep. He barely had a few seconds before the barrel was pointed at Jung bae and again everything was taken from him again by the same mysterious man and this cruel operation

- he felt as though his whole world just shattered into pieces and he was the sole survivor. Even though more of the people he tried to save still are alive and need saving gi hun still felt completely alone and lost. Within a few mere minutes everything he’d been fighting for and everything he loved vanished and he felt as though it was all his fault. All he could thing about as he was held down one more time and forced to look at the dead bodies of the closest people he had was how he could have done more.

- he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed while unknowingly in the same room with his dear friend young il. that actually he was the one to pull the trigger and betray everyone.

- he felt another part of him die as he looked at your dead body, still so beautiful and meaningful to him, even dead and gone. Your story and best memories along with everyone else he’s lost will be permanently engrained in his brain. Especially you, the person he was able to love after everything that happened.

_______

[frxstbyt]

Okay, so I actually wrote something for this— 🤓

Uh, TW/CW for animal death, vomiting and swearing.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” Dally asks as Two-Bit turns on the car’s ignition.

“We’s just goin’ for a drive, Dal,” Two-Bit answers, turning the radio on. “You’re always with Ponykid. I miss hanging out with my buddy,” he adds, smile faltering at he looks over at Dally.

Dally frowns slightly. “Oh,” he says. “Yeah, sorry about that.” His gaze lowers for a moment before flicking back up to Two-Bit. “I’ve just been kinda worried about him, y’know? After Johnny...” He stops, throat closing up. He turns his head away, not wanting Two-Bit to see the tears in the corners of his eyes.

Two-Bit’s chest tightens. He knew what Dally was going to say: “After Johnny died.” It’s been six months since his death and Dally was still struggling to accept that as fact. Hell, Two-Bit himself was too. The whole gang was still grieving. Ponyboy had it the worst; Two-Bit knows how close he’d been with Johnny, and it was hard watching the kid grieve. But, life goes on, and hopefully, some day, Ponyboy’d move on, too.

Two-Bit claps a hand on Dally’s broad shoulder, and the blond turns to face him. His eyes are glossy and rimmed-red slightly, but Two-Bit doesn’t dare to call it out. He’d rather keep his nose intact thankyouverymuch.

“Tell ya what,” he says, “let’s go over to Dairy Queen and pick up some lunch. I skipped breakfast and I’m about starved.”

Dally smirks. “Your mama forget to go grocery shoppin’ yesterday?” he teases.

“No,” Two-Bit says, “I woke up late, s’all.” He puts the car in reverse and starts backing up. The car bounces a bit, startling both young men. Two-Bit stops the car, a bewildered look on his face as Dally peers out the window. “Dang, I didn’t know Darry installed a speedbump!” Two-Bit laughs, slapping the steering wheel with both hands.

“THAT WASN’T A SPEEDBUMP, YOU CHICKEN FRIED FUCK,” Dally bellows, whipping his head around. His eyes are huge and his face is whiter than his hair. “THAT WAS MY CAT!”

Two-Bit stares, horrified.

Uh oh...

                                                           ─────

The veterinarian holds Dally’s hair back as he dry heaves into the trash can (again), rubbing his back soothingly with their other hand. They look up when they hear Two-Bit murmer, “Jesus Christ...”

Two-Bit sits in one of the room’s plastic chairs, hunched over with his head in his hands. He still can’t believe what he’s done. He’s killed Dally’s cat. Well, kind of. The cat was still alive when they rushed him to the vet’s office, hoping that there was a chance to save him—a slim chance, but a chance nonetheless. But the damage had been done, the feline’s injuries too severe to salvage, and the doctors had no choice but to put him out of his misery.

Two-Bit glances up as Dally finishes dry heaving, the vet wiping the vomit from his lips with a tissue before the blond crashes down onto the floor, face-first, sobbing loudly. The vet gives him a soft, sad, empathetic look before tossing the tissue into the trash can, standing up and walking over to Two-Bit.

“Let’s get him somewhere more comfortable,” the man says quietly, gesturing to Dally. “I don’t want him scaring anyone and their pets.”

Two-Bit nods, pushing himself to his feet and making his way over to the weeping blond. He kneels down and rests a hand on his shoulder. “Dally,” he whispers, “let’s get outta here. There ain’t no reason to be here any longer than we need to be.”

Dally lifts his head up slightly, blinking at Two-Bit through the thick tears that cloud his vision. He looks down and gives the slightest hint of a nod, sniffling.

Two-Bit blinks away his own tears. “C’mon,” he says as he and the veterinarian struggle to lift Dally to his feet, “I’ll bring ya home.”

                                                           ─────

“YOU WHAT?”

Steve stares at Two-Bit, horrifed, as Two-Bit nods. “Yeah. I...” He pauses for a moment, then sighs heavily. “I ran ‘im over in the driveway and the vet had to put him down,” he explains, rubbing the back of his neck.

Sodapop gapes at him. “Oh my god...” he breathes, pressing a hand over his heart. “I can’t imagine how Dal must be feeling.” His brown eyes soften and well up. He sniffs, blinking back tears.

“God, that’s horrible,” Darry mumbles, still holding the newspaper he’d been reading before Two-Bit walked in. “But I’m sure Dally’ll forgive you some day. It was an accident, after all.”

Two-Bit scoffed. “If Dally ever did forgive me for killin’ his cat, I’d die of shock.”

“Wait,” Ponyboy says, lowering his book, green eyes wide as he turns to Two-Bit, “it was his cat? Like, he actually adopted it?”

Two-Bit nods.

Ponyboy stares at him for a while, then snorts. “He ain’t ever gonna forgive you,” he says, turning back to his book. “You’re fucked.”

“Big time,” Two-Bit agrees. He sighs again and presses the heels of his hands over his eyes. “What am I gonna do? Dally hates me now.”

“He hates you even more,” Ponyboy points out without looking up from his book.

“Pony,” Darry says sternly, narrowing his eyes at him. His gaze moves over to Two-Bit, softening. “He’ll forgive you some day, Two. I know he will.”

Two-Bit groans, flopping back into the couch cushions, an arm thrown over his eyes. “Can we change the subject?”

“Sure thing, bud,” Steve pipes up, shuffling the cards in his hands. “You wanna play a round’a poker?”

Two-Bit peeks at him under his arm. “Yeah, why not?” He sits up and slides off the couch to sit on the floor in front of the table across from Steve. Steve shuffles the cards one last time before distributing them.

“Count me in, too!” Sodapop chimes, plopping down in between them. Steve rolls his eyes and flicks a card at his nose, grinning when Soda blurts out, “Hey!”

Two-Bit rolls his eyes and looks down at the cards in his hand as Soda and Steve start wrestling around on the floor. (Sodapop must’ve been sneaking the ace into his sock again and Steve caught him in the act.) His mind strays over to Dally, but he shakes it off after a moment. He can talk to Dal tomorrow.

The ending SUCKS, but I ain’t changin’ it. Ù-Ú

Hope you liked it, lol.

TWO-BIT: *pulls out of the driveway*

*car bounces*

TWO-BIT: SPEEDBUMP!

DALLAS: THAT WAS MY CAT.

[luckymousey]

Thoughts about Ace’s dreams (parts 249-256) (mostly things I liked)

⚠️English is not my first language and there will be SPOILERS if you haven't seen Ace's dream⚠️

THEY UPLOADED BOTH ACE AND TREY’S ENTIRE DREAMS, LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ehhhh, well, I was planning to also write about Trey’s dream, but I felt this was getting too long, so maybe the day after tomorrow I guess?

Warnings?: swearing and possible gramatical mistakes

Soooooo, we left it when Grim was shaking Ace like a soft drink, let’s start!

Ace telling them to stop pranking him is ironic considering he’s the one who pranks everyone everytime (I bet he once pranked Deuce by giving him a store bought egg and told him a chick would appear from it if he gave him enough warmth)

SEBEK STARTING TO EXPLAIN EVERYTHING TO ACE, I ALREADY LOVE HIM SO MUCH, I know he is just doing it for COMPLETELY different reasons, but yeah (tbh, I started loving him more when he admitted liking reading books, I’m also a bookworm :3)

And he’s so determined to fight Malleus, awww, he loves him, but he also knows that they can’t let Malleus’ negative emotions take over him.

The part where Ace asks Sebek if it’s something bad to live in a dream that you can be happy in, is like ( ; _ ; ), so fucking sad and selfish, he is like accepting the fact that it was not reality what he was living, but he was so fucking scared to accept reality itself and he really didn’t consider other people’s opinions (personally, I feel I would LOVE living my dream life, but I’m sure that with time, I would feel that everything around me is fake, beause my real friends wouldn’t be there, my real family would’ve be there, everything I love wouldn’t be there, and that would make feel me so miserable)

Ace saying that if Malleus is left alone in the real world because of his own fault reminds me a lot of the time he told Riddle that he had no friends because of himself, it might have sound cruel, but really, Malleus, my boy, what you’re doing is not good 😭 (and he’s, I do think that Ace’s comment to Malleus was also unnecessary, but let’s be realistic, they’re both doin wrong things)

For some reason, I feel Ace would be GREAT as a lawyer, maybe some rude comments about the other party, something that’s not tolerated in trials, yes, but he’s quick when it comes to biting back.

Ace not wanting to fight Malleus because he calls themselves “ordinary students”?? EXCUSE ME!? That’s not my Ace! My Ace fucking fought against his dorm leader knowing he was way weaker than him (I repeat, he’s so fucking scared of accepting the reality, like, we can see it thanks to these little things, the little changes in the character, he prefers to be a coward than to lose his friend 🥲)

I want to say this again, there are some parts and lines of Ace that reminds us of the Heartslabyul Arc (like when he said he won he listening to someone who looks down at others), but there’s a big difference: Ace was not scared to fight against Riddle, but he’s now scared to fight against Malleus, and yes, Malleus is one of the 5 best mages in the world, but this is not about the opponent, it’s about the fact that he will change his whole personality to get what he wants, in Heartslabyul Arc’s case: beating Riddle and becoming dorm leader (that was out of pure rage tho), in the Diasomnia Arc’s: hiding in his dream, because there, Yuu can stay with them forever.

ACE RAN, I KNOW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRAMATIC EXIT, BUT I COULDN’T STOP IMAGINING HIM RUNNING LIKE AN ANIME CHARACTER WHO’S EMBARRASSED AND RUNNING AWAY WITH A VERY NOTICEABLE BLUSH ON THEIR FACE

Sebek not understanding Ace’s words and desire to stay in the dream is understandable for me, he had no friends before, and in this point of the story, he is still not very close to his classmates, so he doesn’t understand why a friend is so important for Ace (and Malleus is more like a person who he admires, but he idolizes him so much that I doubt he calls him “his friend”, while Lilia is seen as his master and Silver more like a competitor).

I don’t know if you noticed this, but I love imagining different scenarios when something happens, so when everyone was explaining to Sebek why Ace got angry and why it was (partly) his fault, I imagined them trying to explain something to a baby.

ORTHO ADMITTING HE WOULN’T BE AS WORRIED AS HE’S BECAUSE OF IDIA, HE’S THE BEST LITTLE BROTHER ONE CAN HAVE 🥹🥹🥹🥹

And Sebek realizing that Ortho is right, awwww, I can understand why some people hate him, he is constantly shouting and being kind of rude, but I see him like a kiddo who’s still learning.

I used to watch the episodes without sound because I usually watch them at night, but how that I got wireless headphones I can’t unheard the way they said “Cater Diamond”, they’re like, “KeiTO DaiAMonDo”, I know that's how they pronounce it, but I really can’t not laugh everytime I think about it.

Idia and Leona agreeing they’re just helping because they want revenge!?!? That’s so funny for me, they’re straight up insulting Malleus in front of Sebek.

And after that, the moment where Silver scolds Sebek arrives.

THAT'S RIGHT SILVER, YOU TELL HIM, YOU TELL HIM, SHOW HIM WHAT YOU LEARNT FROM YOUR HANDSOME FATHER, I LOVE YA SEBEK, BUT YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN

Honestly, the reason I'm so excited is because I’m trying to prepare myself for that part.

Silver LITERALLY rubbing on Sebek’s face the fact that he reacted like Ace when he told him everything was a dream is something I didn’t know I needed to hear, it was so satisfying. (I’m going to admit it, I just love people getting scolded because of something they did that was clearly bad)

“REFLECT ON YOUR ACTIONS!” Is something I feel Lilia usually said when he punished them as kids and then Silver learnt it (i bet all my money that Lilia constantly used that phrase when the kids didn’t want to eat his nutritious food)

Some of the characters being surprised by Sebek sudden lowering of tone is something that will always make me at least chuckle, it doesn’t matter if it’s in the manga, the game, the novel, fanfics, fanmade comics…; it’s just so fucking funny for me.

When Silver said it was better to have Ace as a friend so he can help the, in defeating Malleus sounded so bad, like he was already planning how to become Ace’s friend to use him (don’t hate on me, I know he didn’t intend to, but if you read that phrase without context, you will definitely think he’s a villain)

LEONA, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN WITH LEAVING ACE BEHIND BECAUSE HE WON'T BE OF MUCH HELP, ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME!? YOU DONT GET TO LEAVE MY BOY BEHIND.

AND YOU TOO, CATER!? YOU TOO!? I THOUGHT YOU WERE A GOOD SENPAI BECAUSE YOU PROTECTED DEUCE AND GRIM IN YOUR DREAM, FUCK THIS AND HE WANTS TO MESS UP WITH ACE, DONT, LEAVE MY BOY, WELL, DONT, DON'T LEAVE MY BOY, WAKE HIM UP

Deuce doing his delinquent pose when he got frustrated of thinking to much, hehehe, I love that pose

YESYESYES, DEUCE, GRIM, YUU, GO GET YOUR TSUNDERE-ORANGE-BOY

Ortho don’t worry about them, Yuu and Grimm have gone through 6 overblots together (I’m going to cry so fucking hard if Grim ends up over blotting because of all those fucking black stones he eats), and now they’re with the seventh one

Oh, damn, Cater should be an actor, I really thought he was going to leave Ace behind.

FORGET WHAT I SAID ABOUT YOU, CATER, I LOVE YA SO MUCH

Cater like a proud older brother 😭: “I’m happy Ace got such good friends”

Omg, Cater is so intelligent, by just having contact with ‘darkness’ once he already knows how it works (but he’s really putting the hand in the fire just for his junior, Trey is one of the most understood characters, but he’s also so underrated when it comes to his relationships)

Wait, wait, wait, I just thought about this, it might be something dumb, but it really just appeared in my mind: Cater doesn’t want to get very close to anyone because of his trauma of constantly having to move and, as a consequence, he has to cut off all his relationships done in the place: and now, he’s literally doing anything possible to save his friends (if he now can consider them as friends), I don’t know if he started to open up, but it would be so heartwarming to see 😭🥰

I love when the characters say: “eh?” Yes, buddy, eh, eh, eh 🦆

All the Caters saying: “Aye, Aye, sir!” It’s soooooooooooo peeeeerfect

“It might hurt a little, but be patient, Acey~” -KeiTO DaiAMonDo, 2025

NAURRR GIRL, THE SUDDEN FIRE!? That was too fast, both Riddle and Trey would be way more dissimulated if they were trying to discover if there’s really a fake Cater.

Leona said they weren’t going to help Cater because he didn’t ask for it, but I like to think he’s trusting him (I know that wasn’t the case, let me be delulu)

And Leona calling Cater “Heartslabyul’s number 3”??? THIS IS GOING STRAIGHT TO MY MAFIA AU

Riddle’s change of tone from rude and strict for Cater and sweet and kind for Ace!? 😂, yeah, that’s definitely not happening irl

“You can have a happy life here, blahblahbla” oh, shut up, I know you’re darkness, but shut up

Ok, Leona, I know you trust Cater and everything, but please, let Silver and the rest help him, he’s going to disappear with the darkness

*right in the other part of the island*: Cater saying how ugly everything looks, not giving a fuck about the danger he’s in 😃👍

ACE ADMITTING HIS INSECURITIES, NOOOOOOO, MY BOY, YOU'RE PERFECT THE WAY YOU ARE, YOU ALL WILL DEFEAT MALLEUS WITH THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP (or not)

Like, I don’t know how the hell the darkness manage to say the most contradictory things 🤣, Deuce would never say he’ll learn from Ace, over his dead body

Awww, Leona trying to break Idia’s tablet just because he asked if he was talking about himself (he was right)

HJKSJKHKHJHKJSHKJ, EVERYONE IS BEING SO ✨SLAY✨, SILVER SCOLDING SEBEK, CATER SMACKING ACE WITH THE TRUTH, WHAT'S NEXT!?!? TREY FINALLY GIVING MRS. ROSEHEARTS WHAT SHE DESERVES IN RIDDLE’S DREAM!?!?

“At that time, I couldn’t say anything properly…thank you.” “It’s too lame to only challenge those who you can win against!” “Cater-senpai…this is so unfair…isn’t it!?” “I only have to wake up, right!?” You heard that? That’s the sound of my hearts breaking, and the fact that he’s crying while trying to smile??? ANIPLEX, YANA TONOSO AND TWST, YOU BETTER PAY FOR THE REST OF MY THERAPY SESSIONS 😭😭😭😭😭

The fact that both Ace and Deuce’s last memory to wake up is their reunion in book 6 is so special, so tears-flooding-down-my-cheek reaction from me 🥹

ACE IS BACK MY PEOPLE, HE HAS FINALLY WOKEN UUUUUUP

Cater saying: “Leona, guys! Help us!” In such a princess and cheerful way, he would nail it in EAH’s Damsel in Distress class

Ace first words to his friends was literally about Deuce’s way of talking…that’s so him ✨🥹✨

Deuce and Grim hitting Ace, yes my people, those are my little stupid boys

And Cater’s excuse for using magic against Ace was literally: the ends DOES justify the means

And Ace telling Yuu that next time they wake him up it needs to be more gentle!? I don’t know if that was romantic or not, but Ace is definitely someone worthy to be Malleus’ love rival; he was the only one who directly dreamed with Yuu!

My first reaction when Ace reminded Leona of what he did at the Magift Tournament was: “don’t talk to me or my man like that again”

“I wasn’t crying! And you all came running to me looking pretty happy!”…OF COURSE WE WOULD BE HAPPY, YOU DUMBASS, OHANA MEANS FAMILY AND FAMILY MEANS NO ONE IS LEFT BEHIND

And then Cater takes a photo of Yuu, Adeuce and Grim to celebrate they’re back together, yessssss

For the third time, Ace’s lines are like a reflection of what he said in the Heartslabyul Arc: he told Trey it was his fault Riddle became like that, because he constant spoiled him; and now, bam, he tells Silver he and Lilia pamper him too much

As usual, Ortho snitches on everyone because he is a pure angel who doesn’t want to get bitches, so he tells the truth about Sebek 😈, let’s go, Ortho, you’re doing great, who will be your next victim?

Near to the end of his dream, Cater uses the good old one: if you bother us too much, I’ll tell Riddle😈

“Red demon”!? HAHAHAH, LEONA KNOWS ABOUT NICKNAMES, LET LEONA GIVE YOU A NEW NAME TO YALL

Then we’ve Idia: “Actually 🤓, we’ve to visit the red demon, BUT, I plan to wake his best pacifier.” (Man, Idia is just slaying with anything he’s saying)

ADEUCE STUTTERING AND THEN SHOUTING LIKE MAGICAL GIRLS TO CHANGE CLOTHES IS MY TOP 1 FAV MOMENT IN THE WHOLE DREAM

And, of course, Idia’s new line: “This is! The fresh scream filled with torture feels so good!”

(Unpopular opinion: Cater should’ve been filming the WHOLE time)

Another mirror-reflection-scene: Ace wanted to make Malleus apologize, just like in the Heartslabyul Arc with Riddle.

And last but not least, Ortho snitched on Sebek for the SECOND time, that smirk of his, he knows what he’s doing, that boy, that boy is so dangerously intelligent.

And in the end, we didn't get Ace's brother's face reveal 🥹

I'm going to do a satanic ritual

This is the end of my opinions on Ace’s dream, hope you enjoyed it!

[bellarkeselection]

My Forever Wrangler

Requested by @hayvenleave Reader and Tyler are high school sweethearts and got married, but reader feels a little off when Tyler starts getting closer with Kate

My first ever Tyler request ( hope I did a good job 😊 )

Some people say don’t marry your high school sweetheart because you’ll always be living in the past. Others say it’s the greatest thing in the world. I chose to believe it’s the best thing I ever did, at least until I saw my husband getting close to our newest team member Kate.

“You know uh - EF1 or EF5 tornado rating. It’s not based on size or wind speed. The power we ascribe is based on damage. It’s only really after the fact we can really define it. What it destroys, takes from us.” My husband crossed the room towards Kate, gently raising a hand to her cheek brushing falling tears from her face. “I’m sorry for what happened. But how much more are you going to let this thing take from you?”

“Tyler.” Kate leans forward up on her toes looking like she was about to kiss him before I sharply gasped altering my presence in the doorway of the barn.

The pair turned their heads in my direction separating from how close they were to one another before I had said something. “Y/n, I didn’t - it’s not what it looks like.” My husband attempted to say but I spun on my heels and stomped out of the barn they were in making our way back to the main house that we were staying at.

“Y/n, Y/n wait. Hey, wait, wait.” I heard Tyler calling my name but I ignored him and just kept walking away from him.

Suddenly something wrapped around my waist and yanked me backwards where I screamed hitting whatever or more so whoever had done that. “Ahhh! Tyler, what the hell - how did you do that with a garden hose?” Lifting my head up I met his gaze seeing that he had made a nearby hose a makeshift lasso.

“I used to do rodeo, remember.” He reminded me.

Dropping my gaze weakly I made a noise. “Oh right. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t know another way for to stop and listen to me when I tell you that nothing happened between me and Kate back there.” He began explaining to me while I pushed the garden hose down my legs and get it off of me. Tossing the hose into the nearby bushes I didn’t want him to get another chance to use his charming rodeo skills on me for a second time.

“It didn’t look that way to me, Owens.”

Tyler gave me a sad look hearing me call him Owens rather than by his first name. I usually only called him by his last name when I was really pissed at him for something and he that because we were best friends. “Y/n, I know that you’re angry with me. But I swear nothing has been going on between me and Kate-“

“Then why did it look like you were going to kiss here when you guys were talking in the barn huh?” Crossing my arms over my chest I scowled at my husband.

He gently touched my shoulders locking his gaze with mine. “She went to kiss me, not the other way around. I would never do anything to lose you.”

“That’s awfully similar to what you told me when Penny Brooke wanted to kiss you at Junior prom.” I glared at him bringing up the night he had asked me to with him and another girl at our high school was all over him.

He slightly rolled his eyes at the memory. “Yes, she had her hands all over me. But again she tried to kiss me. And I think you’re forgetting that night I left with you and that’s when I asked you to be my girlfriend.”

“I guess so.” Looking at my muddy boots I tucked some hair behind my ear. He has always been by my side and the night we started dating he was only about me and no other girl in our school. “Can you forgive me for overacting?”

Tyler nodded extending a hand out to me. “I can never stay mad at you, darling. Now will you let me up for my mistake of not spending enough time with my girl.”

“What do you have in mind, cowboy?” I tilted my head to the side waiting for his answer.

He smirked leading me to his truck helping me inside the passenger seat of the vehicle. “Go back to the good old days, just you and me. Me driving a truck and you filming our adventures on your YouTube channel.” He sits a small iPad in my lap that he had taken out of his glove box.

Tyler was the one who had went to college and got a degree. Yet he trusted me to manage his YouTube channel just like I did when we would mess around chasing storms on our dates before we tied the knot. “I can’t believe you kept my old YouTube account active after all these years. We were making videos when we were so young and reckless.” Scrolling through the old video lists I chuckled looking at the profile picture of me and Tyler. The picture was me hanging off Tyler’s back with a tornado forming behind us in the sky.

“You were my first tornado chasing partner.”

Waving my index finger in his face I teased. “That’s favorite tornado wrangler partner to you.”

“Now and always, baby.” Tyler removed his cowboy hat from his head placing it on mine. I chuckled pushing it up since it fell down in my face from the fact that it too big on me. “Sorry bout that. I’ll buy you your own hat.”

Leaning across the console I kissed him gently on the lips. “Nah. What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine.”

“Sounds like a good feeling to chase, Ms. Owens.” Tyler cupped the side of my face kissing me before we sat back in our seats and kicked up dust leaving the driveway in search of a nearby storm we could chase just the two of us like the good old days.

Comments really and appreciated along with reblogs ❤️

[sturniololuvz]

Could you write a fic where like there sisters only 17 and they find a positive pregnancy test and at first there mad and asking who the guy is but then they support her the whole way if that makes sense

omg yes!!! I LOVE THIS ONEEEEE

“Always By Your Side”

Sturniolos x sister

Warnings : crying , yelling , comforting

Y/N had been keeping a secret.

For weeks, she’d been feeling off—tired, nauseous, emotional. At first, she brushed it off as stress, but deep down, she knew something was wrong. So, with shaking hands and a racing heart, she bought a pregnancy test and took it in the safety of her bathroom.

And when the test turned positive, her world flipped upside down.

She didn’t know how to tell her brothers.

How could she? They were protective, overbearing, and sometimes a little dramatic. She wasn’t ready for their reaction—wasn’t ready for the yelling, the disappointment, the questions. So, she hid the test in the bathroom trash and planned to figure things out on her own.

Except she wasn’t careful enough.

Discovery & Breakdown

“Y/N!”

Her heart nearly stopped when she heard Nick’s voice from the hallway, sharp and panicked.

“Come here. Now.”

Swallowing hard, she stepped out of her room and into the bathroom doorway—where all three of her brothers stood, staring at the small plastic stick in Matt’s hand.

Chris was the first to break the silence. “Tell me this isn’t yours.”

Her throat tightened. Her hands shook. She couldn’t find her voice.

“Y/N,” Matt tried, his voice softer than Nick’s but still filled with urgency, “please tell me this is some kind of joke.”

Tears welled in her eyes. She had no way out of this.

Nick ran a hand through his hair, his face contorted in anger, confusion, and worry. “Who’s the guy? When did this happen? Are you seriously—?”

“I don’t—I don’t wanna talk about it,” she choked out, her voice trembling as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Not an option,” Chris snapped, pacing the bathroom. “Y/N, this is serious! We need to know who did this, what’s going on—”

“I don’t need you guys yelling at me!” she suddenly screamed, her emotions boiling over. “I already know I messed up! I’m scared, and I don’t need you three making it worse!”

The triplets fell silent at her outburst. The only sound was Y/N’s quiet sobs as she buried her face in her hands.

Matt was the first to move. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. She clung to him, shaking, as Chris and Nick softened, their anger melting into something else—concern.

“Hey,” Nick sighed, rubbing his face. “We’re not mad at you. We’re just… freaking out.”

Chris exhaled heavily, nodding. “Yeah. But you don’t have to do this alone, okay?”

Y/N sniffled, pulling back to look at them. “You guys aren’t… mad at me?”

Matt shook his head. “We’re worried. But you’re our sister, Y/N. We’ve got you.”

The First Trimester - Morning Sickness & Mood Swings

The next few weeks were brutal.

Morning sickness hit her hard. She spent most mornings in the bathroom, curled over the toilet, feeling miserable.

Chris was the one who started waking up early to make sure she had crackers and ginger ale.

Nick took charge of making doctor’s appointments, reading way too many pregnancy articles, and constantly asking, “Are you drinking enough water?”

Matt, always the peacemaker, was there for every emotional breakdown—whether it was crying over a sad commercial or getting irrationally mad when they brought home the wrong kind of ice cream.

“Okay, I love you guys,” she sniffled one night, curled up on the couch, “but if one more person tells me to drink water, I’m throwing something.”

Chris immediately hid his water bottle behind his back.

The Second Trimester - Cravings & Baby Kicks

By the second trimester, things got easier. The morning sickness faded, and her energy returned. But the cravings were wild.

At 2 a.m., she shook Nick awake.

“I need pickles and peanut butter.”

He groaned. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

Fifteen minutes later, he was back with pickles, peanut butter, and a very annoyed expression.

Then came the first time the baby kicked.

She gasped, grabbing Matt’s arm. “Oh my God, she moved!”

His eyes widened, and he immediately called for the others.

The three of them took turns feeling her belly, their excitement making her heart swell.

“That’s so weird,” Chris muttered in awe.

Nick grinned. “That’s so cool.”

Matt just shook his head with a soft smile. “She’s gonna be so loved.”

The Third Trimester - Nesting & Nerves

As the due date got closer, the triplets went into full big brother mode.

Chris built the crib (with only minimal cursing), Matt organized all the baby clothes, and Nick made sure the hospital bag was packed perfectly.

But one night, Y/N broke down.

“What if I’m not ready?” she whispered, tears in her eyes. “What if I’m a terrible mom?”

Nick knelt beside her, taking her hand. “You’re gonna be amazing, Y/N. And you’re not alone. We’re right here.”

“Yeah,” Chris added. “You and Baby Girl? You’ve got the best uncles ever.”

Matt smiled. “She’s lucky to have you.”

And for the first time in months, Y/N truly believed them.

The Birth - Meeting Baby Girl

When labor hit, chaos erupted.

Chris nearly passed out.

Nick was screaming at the hospital staff.

Matt was the calmest—holding her hand, whispering, “You got this, Y/N.”

And after hours of pain, tears, and sheer exhaustion—she heard the first cry of her baby girl.

She sobbed as they placed her daughter in her arms, her tiny fingers curling around Y/N’s.

“She’s beautiful,” Matt whispered.

Nick wiped his eyes, pretending he wasn’t crying. “She’s so small.”

Chris, still in shock, muttered, “I’m gonna teach her the best pranks.”

Y/N laughed through her tears, looking down at her daughter—her whole world.

And as she held her little girl, surrounded by the three boys who never left her side, she knew one thing for sure.

No matter what, they would always be a family.

[shuggymaniac]

[Based on this AU of not talkative Toddler Shanks]

Roger: Huh?

Toddler!Shanks: *Standing in front of Roger, Glaring at him*

Roger: …..

Toddler!Shanks: *Continues glaring*

Roger: Ray…. Shanks is glaring at me!

Rayleigh: he looks mad, did you do something to upset him?

Roger: What? I didn’t do anything.

Toddler!Shanks: *Stomps his foot angrily at that statement*

Roger: come on, why the soar look that fits Buggy more not you, now why don’t you show me a big smile!

Toddler!Shanks: *Stomps his feet more than once*

Rayleigh: we won’t get the end of this, Baby Blue get in here!

[Toddler!Buggy waddles in]

Rayleigh: Blue, can you tell us why Shanks is upset?

Toddler!Buggy: * Turns to Shanks whose face turned from anger to sadness, then Back to Rayleigh* He’s upset because Captain Ate his snack.

Roger: What!? but he told me that it was ok to take some.

Toddler!Shanks: *lets out a sad whine as he holds back tears* …Choco….

Toddler!Buggy: Captain took his kid snack.

Rayleigh: Kis snack?

Toddler!Buggy: Yes, grown ups eat the fruits for snacks and kids eat candies, Captain ate Shanks’s chocolate.

Toddler!Shanks: *Walks over to Roger and holds his pants as he looks up with teary eyes*

Roger and Rayleigh: *Turn to Buggy*

Toddler!Buggy: he will forgive the captain if he said he was sorry.

Roger, kneels to Shanks: I’m sorry little guy and as a pay back I will take Gaban’s stash and give up and whole chocolate bar for yourself!

Toddler!Shanks: *Beams happily and hugs Roger*

Gaban, From the other side of the deck: Leave my stash alone!!!

[watarfallar]

DESERT DUO! *I say staring at the sand on the beach, the people around me questioning my mental stability*

Grian: I’d like to live through a week that’s not a whole new verse of “We Didn’t Start the Fire.”

Scar: Don’t you have any dignity, Grian? Grian: Uh, no.

Scar: Grian is not allowed to violate the dress code, even on 'casual' Fridays. Scar: No matter how many times you say please, Grian. We won't put any of the hats you've been asking about into the dress code.

Scar, playing a video game: This game is so frustrating! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it! Grian: Ok, I think it’s time to turn off the game for a little while. Scar: But I’m having fun!

Grian: Did you ever have like a pet run away and find it or anything? Scar: I had a lizard that I burnt.

Scar: They couldn't find their way out of a paper bag. Grian: That's not true! I found my way out of a paper bag yesterday!

Grian: Scar, I think we have a problem. Scar: What, the fire? Grian: No, the- wait, what fire? Scar: Oh forget about it, this sounds more interesting.

Scar: Question. When they shot Bambi's mother, did you find that a sad moment…at all? Grian: I'm sure she's mounted on a nice wall in a fine home somewhere.

Scar: English is CRAZY. Oregano is both a spaghetti leaf topping and a form of paper art! Grian: What is this "paper art" you speak of? Scar: That shit where you make cranes and stuff out of folded paper! Grian: … Scar.

Scar: We are not mad. We are just disappointed. Grian: No, we are mad. Scar: Yes. We are. We are livid. But we are going to let this one slide. Grian: No, we’re not! Scar: I am not a mind reader, Grian!

Scar: If this plan goes down the drain, where should we regroup? Grian: The afterlife, I guess.

Grian: How was your day, Scar? Scar: Yeah, fine, it's anti-bullying week at school. Grian: Oh? And what does that mean? Scar: It means I can't bully anyone for a whole week.

Scar: What's this? Grian, hugging Scar: Affection! Scar: Disgusting. Scar: …Do it again.

Scar: You use humor to deflect your trauma. Grian: Awww, thanks- Scar: That’s not a good thing. Grian: All I’m hearing is that you think I’m funny.

Scar: I need a long word. Grian: T-rex but the long one.

Grian: Just wondering, did you get any sleep? Scar: Did I get any… leap? Grian: What…?

Grian: That's a nice arguement, Scar Why don't you back it up with a source? Scar: My source is that I made it the fuck up!

Scar: Grian, I screwed up, big time. Grian: Scar, given your daily life experiences, you’re gonna have to be more specific.

Grian: closes a cabinet a crash is heard behind the cabinet door Scar: What was that? Grian: The sound of someone else's problem.

Grian: I can't take you seriously wearing that. Scar: Aw, you take me seriously at all? Grian: Fair point.

Scar: And what do I get out of this? Grian: I will give you a dollar. Scar: What do you think I am? A chump? I would never do it for a dollar! Grian: How bout two dollars? Scar: You got yourself a deal.

Grian, looking at a map: It’s a barren, featureless wasteland out there, isn't it? Scar: Other side, Grian…

Grian: As a responsible adult- Scar: chuckles Grian: … As a responsible adult—

Scar: I'm going to take a shower, I'll be right back. Grian: Why are you telling me this, I don't care. Grian, right after Scar leaves the room: I miss them already.

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 40

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 1200

Masterlist

———————————————————————

It’s often said that you truly realize how much you love someone when they leave you, by the emptiness it creates.  

So yes, I loved Lucy, without a doubt.  

When she left, I was seized with spasms and uncontrollable sobs, feeling as though I was falling into an abyss.  

That night, I went to Alexia’s place. I explained everything to her, from beginning to end, pouring it all out in a flood of words, between tears.  

She was silent, listening, clearly shocked by what I was telling her. She hadn’t seen it coming. As a friend, she didn’t judge me, but held me gently, and gently scolded me for not telling her earlier.  

I stayed at her place that night, struggling to fall asleep, immersed in my dark thoughts.  

The next day, Lucy sent me a message. A message of formality, repeating what she had said the day before:  I care about you but...   I’m sorry for making you unhappy...  and the infamous  I hope you can forgive me.   

That same phrase I had said to Alessia a few months earlier. The irony of it all.  

The initial feelings of sadness and confusion were soon joined by anger and bitterness.  

I was angry at her, pure and simple. She had handled our relationship like one of her political cases. I had offered her time, the expression of my feelings, and what I truly felt. She had rejected me. And the fact that she kept insisting she made this decision  for me  drove me crazy. I had immense resentment toward her, which only grew.  

To try to forget all this, all the pain, all the frustration, and to try to forget her, I threw myself into work.  

I used to spend a lot of time in my office or on construction sites, but now, I spent all my time there, only going home to sleep.  

I had lost my appetite; I’m not one of those who eat excessively after a breakup like Bridget Jones. Instead, I just smoked more.  

 "Not in the office, Ona, and think about your lungs!"   

It was Alexia scolding me that Tuesday at noon as I was smoking a cigarette, busy sketching.  

She continued:  

 "Come on, I’m taking you out to lunch!"   

Alexia had been amazing with me over the past two weeks, supporting me, comforting me without being suffocating.  

 "I’m not hungry, I’ll eat something later!"   

 "Sure, sure! I know you! You won’t eat anything! I swear, if you don’t come with me right now, I’ll bring Jeanne’s bottle tomorrow and feed you by force!"   

I smiled and nodded, giving in.  

 "I didn’t tell you! I bumped into Lucy at the supermarket yesterday!"   

I looked up at her. Alexia continued:  

 "Well, she knows I know everything now, I think! I was with Jeanne in the same line as her, hard to miss her! She came up to me with a big smile, a little embarrassed. I wanted to tell her off so badly! But I just kept it cold..."   

I smiled to myself, imagining Alexia being cold. It didn’t suit her at all.  

 "How was she?"   

I blurted out the question without thinking.  

Alexia bit her lip.  

 "Maybe I shouldn’t have told you..."   

 "Don’t worry, Alexia, it’s fine..."   

Even though my heart was still raw.  

 "If it helps, she’s let herself go! I think she’s gained 20 kilos, and she had some fuzz on her coat, dressed in the most outdated tracksuit!"   

I laughed now. My Alexia, that ray of sunshine.  

That evening, Philippe showed up at the office. He had called over the weekend to ask if he could drop by.  

Philippe Arous was an old friend. We were neighbors when we were kids, and our parents were friends. They used to go on vacations together, so we spent a lot of time together even with our five-year age difference. He had studied journalism at Sciences Po and worked in Paris for several years. A political enthusiast, he moved back to his hometown to try his luck first as a advisor, then as mayor.  

He was quite a character—intelligent, cultured, altruistic, but also loud-mouthed, which could get him into trouble.  

He had asked me to join his campaign list in support for the latest elections, knowing of my involvement in associations. I enjoyed getting involved in concrete projects, especially when they were related to my city. That experience had been enriching, though it ended in a rather predictable loss to… Lucy.  

He arrived around 8 PM. I was alone in the office.  

I made him a coffee, and we talked about trivial things, before the subject turned to the elections:  

 "Have you heard that Lucy Bronze is running after all?"   

 "Yeah, yeah... I heard about it 15 days ago!"  I replied with a tired tone.  

 "What a surprise! This doesn’t really help our cause; she’s a political beast, that one... I’m fine-tuning my list now..."   

It’s quite a job, putting together a list.  

 "Is it going well?   

 "Yeah, we have to present it in a few days! Well, Ona, I’m here to ask if you’d like to join it! I didn’t want to at first, with the whole Mojito situation, since you were working on Lucy Bronze’s campaign too..."   

I was taken aback. He continued:  

 "But we talked about it with the team yesterday. They loved your personality, how you were involved even though you were just there in support! A real ray of sunshine, insightful and effective!"   

 "Uh... thanks..."   

I didn’t know how to respond.  

 "I’m offering you a spot on the list, possibly in an electable position if we win, and even possibly eligible if we lose with a good result. You could be a city councilor, or just be supportive if that’s too much for you!"   

This was the best! I was already dreading the election period, with Lucy’s giant posters all over the city. But this...  

I began to laugh nervously:  

 "I’m sorry, Philippe, I really can’t. I worked with Lucy for 6 months on that project, that’s enough for me!"   

I smiled inwardly at the double meaning of my words.  

 "Exactly, you know her well, and she doesn’t seem like someone you like!"   

He tried, as best he could, to convince me, listing all the arguments.  

 "Sorry, Philippe, it’s a no. But I wish you all the best of luck! I’m behind you, no doubt!"   

I wanted Lucy to lose the election, to have nothing but tears in her eyes. My resentment went that far.  

Philippe seemed disappointed as he left the office. Even if, under different circumstances, I would have jumped at the opportunity, the situation made it impossible.  

I returned to work, a new project downtown. That night, under my pencil strokes, I thought about Philippe’s offer, laughing at the irony of the situation.  

I imagined myself running in those elections, on that list. I pictured Lucy’s face, enraged and beside herself...  

Little by little, this possibility, which seemed impossible just an hour ago, took shape in my mind. Why not, after all? I wasn’t going to hold back for her!  

I grabbed my phone.  

 "Philippe? Yes, I’ve thought about it! I want in... What position? Electable!"