#WHY IS EVERYONE SO LOVELY ALL OF A SUDDEN

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

OKAY this was initially meant to be for the wolfstarmicrofic prompt unrequited (10th Feb), but then I got too into it, it's well over 1,000 words, and I gave it a day to figure out how to end it. It's now a oneshot that doesn't currently have a name (bear with I'll figure out what to call it haha)

Remus is in love with Sirius.

Everybody knows it. His friends, most of the students, the teachers, even Sirius himself. After one drunken confession that involved a lot of him crying and apologising, and Sirius pulling him into a hug to assure him over and over that it doesn't change anything between them, Remus has reached a pretty solid conclusion.

Sirius doesn't love him.

In all honesty, it's exactly what he had expected, and why he'd kept it a secret for as long as he had. Thankfully, Sirius wasn't lying when he said it wouldn't change anything. If anything, Remus has felt a hell of a lot lighter since everything happened. Sure, all of his friends know that he's hopelessly head over heels for his best friend, and that it's embarrassingly one sided, but none of them are judging him for it. They're all being really nice about everything. It's gotten to the point that Remus can make jokes about it and have his friends laughing, rather than halfheartedly trying to conceal their pity. It's a welcome relief, even if he still spends an unhealthy amount of time crying with his curtains closed around his bed.

Still, peaks and valleys.

Everything feels a little lighter than it did before and, hey, at least he knows where everybody stands now.

Well, he thought he did.

As it turns out, all it takes is a poorly timed joke to flip Remus' world on its head.

He's just chatting with Mary, walking back from class. In all honesty, he'd thought that his friendship with them would be ruined after they found out that he's in love with their ex, but honestly? It feels like they've gotten much closer since the whole thing came to light.

As the two of them get into the common room, it's as though Sirius just... appears in front of them. He makes Remus jump a mile, much to Mary's amusement.

"Hi. Hey. Could I, er... could I talk to you about something?" Remus watches Sirius' brow furrow in that way of his, and he knows that he's going to say yes. The ominous implications of needing to talk make him feel a little bit sick, really, but he's not going to say no to Sirius. He can't bring himself to do it. Especially not when he seems so... nervous.

"'Course." He turns to Mary. "See you around?" They nod, before turning to Sirius.

"Meadowes." Sirius nods at them.

"Black. Listen, hurt his feelings and I'll do something Azkaban worthy." They jab a finger at his chest, and everyone knows that they're not joking.

"Got it," he says, quickly raising his hands. They release him, then, shooting Remus a kind smile before disappearing upstairs. Sirius turns to Remus, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Remus says, shrugging sheepishly. "They're still in the whole... feeling sorry for me phase."

"Ah. Right." The two of them start to walk up to the dorm together.

"It'll pass," Remus says gently, not missing Sirius' sudden uncertainty. "Everyone was like that at first, remember?"

"Yeah," Sirius nods. "Merlin, it was a sad few weeks, wasn't it?"

"Well, unrequited love is terribly depressing," Remus quips, hoping to draw a smile out of Sirius. Instead, Sirius gets into the dorm with clenched fists. He stops in his tracks, unclenching his hands and pressing the heel of his palm to his eye. He isn't facing Remus but, based on the shaking of his shoulders, Remus can tell that he's fighting tears. "Hey, what's...?" Sirius crumbles, burying his head in his hands and outright refusing to turn around. "Sirius... hey, c'mere."

He quickly moves in front of Sirius and pulls him into a hug without really thinking, hoping that he can hold him through whatever crisis is going on in his head. Thankfully, Sirius relaxes into the hug, tension leaving his body as he cries into Remus' shoulder.

"I'm- I'm so sorry," Sirius gets out, slightly muffled in Remus' shoulder.

"Sorry for what?" Remus asks softly, confused. "Last time I checked, you haven't done anything wrong."

"I- Moony, I'm- awful, I'm so awful." He holds Remus a little tighter, as Remus tries his level best to figure out what's going on.

"You're not awful," he says simply, firmly, hoping that it's enough to at least slightly dispel the panic that seems to be gripping at Sirius.

"I am. Fuck, I really am. I- I don't want to- I don't want to lose you."

"You're not going to lose me," Remus answers, even more confused than he was before. Sirius untangles himself from the hug, quickly wiping his eyes and taking a deep breath. "What's going on?"

"Remus, I- I don't know how to say it."

"Whatever it is," Remus starts slowly, carefully, "I promise I won't be pissed off."

"...You will be," Sirius says quietly. Remus practically wants to shake him, tell him that there's literally nothing that he could do that would anger him.

"I promise you," he says again, as Sirius looks up and meets his eyes. "I won't be." Sirius nods, taking a deep breath.

"I... well, Remus, I- I'm..." He stops himself, screwing his eyes shut. "I'm in love with you," he exhales in a rush, and-

What?

Remus' eyes widen, as Sirius chances a glance at him. For a second, Remus can't actually think. Every thought seems to have run out of his brain, his voice dying out, anything other than shock bolting from his system.

"I- I think I have been for a while, I just... I don't know, I was so scared. Hell, I still am pretty scared," he says with an empty laugh. "I just... I'd been pushing down this part of me for so long, I don't think I was thinking about how I actually felt when you... I was more thinking about making sure you knew that I didn't want to stop being around you. I mean... it took me until a few weeks back to even start thinking about what I want, which... it isn't fair on you, Rem, and-"

"You love me?"

"...yeah."

"You're in love with me."

"Yeah."

"This isn't a joke, is it?" He asks suddenly.

"What? No! No, it's not a joke."

"Because it's not funny."

"No, it's not funny. It's not a joke."

For a second, they just look at each other, both boys desperate to find something to say.

The issue is, no words are coming to Remus' head.

He needs to do something, though. He can't just leave Sirius standing here after that. Honestly, a big part of him feels like this is all just a dream, one that he's about to wake up from and mourn for a long time. There's no way that Sirius...

Fuck.

Sirius loves him.

This whole time, Sirius has loved him. He feels like he should be somewhat frustrated, after all of the time spent heartbroken, but he can't bring himself to be. Not at Sirius.

Eventually, Remus reaches his limit with the silence. He can't take just standing here with what he knows now. Words clearly aren't an option anymore, so Remus opts for the easiest option.

He pulls Sirius in by the jacket and kisses him.

After the initial surprise, Sirius positively melts. His hands reach out and cup Remus' face, as Remus winds his free arm around Sirius' waist and tries to tell himself that he isn't dreaming. This is real. Sirius right in front of him and tangible. Sirius kissing him like he's more important than oxygen.

Sirius kissing him.

After what feels all too short, both of them break apart, interrupted by the need to breathe. Remus wouldn't be able to fight the smile rapidly spreading across his face even if he wanted to. Thankfully, Sirius has a very similar smile infecting him.

"I love you," Remus says, watching Sirius blush more than he'd ever seen him blush before.

"I love you," he says back, and Remus gets the strongest urge to kiss him again.

Sirius beats him to it.

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

hey there! I really love your writing, could I request for shadow reacting to reader going down the same path as him after losing a loved one? Like maybe reader also used to be happy and cheerful but became cold and closed off after that?

“I Know Your Pain”

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: It hurt. It hurt so much to lose people so close to you. You thought nobody would be able to feel your pain. But luckily, someone did.

Notes: Ahhhhh more angst!! I really hope you like this one, anon! (And- sorry for the lack of posts-)

(Reader will be gender-neutral.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

(TWs: Mentions of death, death shown in writing, swearing.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

No. No. NonononononoNONONONO!

“MOM! DAD!” you cry out, rushing over to your parents.

They appear to be on the ground, unmoving, with a large pool of blood around each of them.

You check for a pulse, anything to make sure they’re still alive, but…nothing.

They’re gone. Dead. And you couldn’t protect them.

Tears threaten to fall down your face, but you force them not to.

No, crying isn’t what you need right now.

What you need is-

“Revenge,” you mutter to yourself. “I’ll avenge you both. I promise.”

You get up off your knees and exit the home, a patch with the letters G.U.N. sliding into frame as the screen fades to black.

As the screen fades back in, we see Team Dark in a G.U.N. meeting, with Shadow being bored out of his mind. He didn’t even work for G.U.N., and neither did Rouge or Omega, so why were they all here?

Before he has too much time to question it, a huge explosion can be heard nearby, causing his ears to flick.

“(Must be the doctor,)” Shadow thinks to himself. “(Finally, an excuse to get out of this boring meeting.)”

“Wonder who that could be,” Rouge says to no one in particular.

“I’ll take care of it,” Shadow says, getting out of his chair. “Rouge, you and Omega should get everyone to safety. Just in case this place goes down.”

“Be careful, hun,” Rouge says.

“I WISH TO ASSIST YOU IN THE FIGHT,” Omega states.

“I’ll call you if I need backup. But I’ll be fine,” Shadow states.

“ANGRY. SETTINGS SET TO “BACKUP FIGHTER,”” Omega says.

Shadow teleports out of the meeting room to where the explosion happened. He cringes a bit at the amount of bodies.

His ear flicks due to a sudden noise, and he catches a piece of rubble that was coming his way with one hand.

Following the bodies, Shadow quickly comes across the culprit, which causes his eyes to widen.

You.

The person who was once so nice and caring, with your eyes filled with joy, were now filled with hatred and spite, a scowl adorning your face.

You slam a G.U.N. agent into the ground, you hand on the back of his head.

“WHICH OF YOU FUCKERS KILLED MY PARENTS?!” you yell.

“[Name]!” Shadow calls out.

You quickly turn your head towards Shadow and your scowl falls, with you releasing the agent, who scrambles away from you.

“Shadow…You…what are you doing here?” you ask.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he says. “What happened?”

You go silent for a moment.

“They killed my parents, Shadow,” you mutter. “These bastards shot them dead.”

Shadow seems surprised, his ears flattening back a bit.

“I…I just…” you start before putting your hands over your mouth. “Oh god, what am I doing…?”

You take in the damage you’ve done around you, falling to your knees.

Shadow is near you in an instant, pulling you into a tight hug.

For the first time since your parents’ deaths, you choke out a sob, allowing the tears to flow freely down your face as you return the hug just as tightly, your eyes squeezing shut as you cry.

You weren’t alone in this feeling, and Shadow wasn’t going to leave you.

You were safe.

[softlypaintedseafoam]

🍓ー thank you for your patronage at the strawberry witch’s bakery! here’s your order!

requested by: @silentgravesdontexist 🍓-> satoru + strawberry-infused water (fox's wedding)

It's fascinating to see the rain from this perspective. While anyone else without an umbrella would hurry out of the sudden deluge of a sunshower, you and Satoru opt to enjoy the sudden change of weather. One by one, rapidly after the other, you watch as droplets splash against the shield of your husband's cursed technique. We must look like maniacs for not ducking for cover, you wonder briefly.

Tsuyu is the time of year in Japan when most everyone carries an umbrella on their person. Not the two of you, however, when you can avoid it. Why carry one when your husband has a natural umbrella on his person at all times?

"Now here's a nifty trick that never gets old," you whistle in awe, not for the first time. "Some foxes must be getting married close by."

Satoru chuckles, grinning smugly, "it is wedding season, you know. For humans and yokai." He holds you more snugly against his chest, releasing an audible breath. "That's why it rains so much around this time of year; the foxes are getting married too."

It's a pleasant scene to imagine. All the foxes in question embarking on their wedding procession, donned in ceremonial kimono for the occasion. Crafting the weather just so as to avoid any unwanted guests. The notion brings a smile to your face. "That's a romantic thought coming from you," you kiss Satoru's cheek.

A warm cheek presses against your own much like a cat begging its human for attention. "I've always been a romantic," the man insists firmly, the legs of his sunglasses pressing against your skin. You decide not to remind him of his disparaging comments against love as a whole when you were students. That's why Shoko calls you the biggest hypocrite in the world. "That's why you're always falling in love with me all over again."

"Maybe you're right," you inhale the scent of petrichor mixed into the smell of Satoru's cologne. It's a delicate smell, almost fragile, like the man himself under the surface of his strength and bravado. "I'm always falling in love with you again, you caught me red-handed."

"I knew it," despite the knowing tone of his voice, Satoru's cheeks a faint pink but his grin is wide. "You can't resist me."

"Alright, tiger, don't let your head grow too big," you snort. Give Satoru and centimeter and he'll run meters. He isn't wrong though.

[unhetalia]

i like to think that alfred's history and troublesomed relationship with both arthur and matthew contributed to his mental health issues. speaking of mh issues, do you think human psychiatric medication would work or would there be some nation specific kind?

Gosh, I've been thinking about this on and off, and it's interesting. I talked about physical and mental health conditions I think some Nations have, and I definitely think in that universe, medications would work, but I think the dosage would have to be a LOT more than what a regular human would/could take and it's effects would never last as long, partially because I think the same thing that allows Nations to heal super fast interferes with medications.

ON THE OTHER HAND, you've also introduced me to a different concept - one where Nations are so outside of human (despite being human shaped) that they just work Differently to us. I think in this case, the idea of mental and physical illness would work completely different. Human medication wouldn't work because what they have isn't something human. However, I don't love the idea that things are connected to the economy or what's happening in government, so I'm drawing a blank on WHAT causes them illness. I don't think they would, either.

In the case of Austria, for example, no one knows why exactly he became unable to use his legs, and whether or not it's temporary. (I like to think this results in Austria doing a lot more research on Nations' health and becoming a kind of expert - though there's still a lot they don't know).

MENTAL HEALTH. Even more than physical health, this would have to be different from humans. They're immortal, and that means there's so much more trauma that they have to encounter. Two countries having a bad personal relationship will have to go on the back-burner because maybe Alfred and Matthew have a shit relationship but US and Canada have an incredibly close one (recent events notwithstanding).

However, I do think his relationships with them have had an impact on his personality. Alfred was a child raised by the wilderness and then all of a sudden he's sort of made to be part of politics and this society with a lot of rules, and the people who should have helped guide him either hated him or didn't have time (France was going through it for a bit there). No one teaches him the rules, only gets angry when he breaks them. He develops defense mechanisms to cope. Wilful ignorance and casual disregard.

I think his relationship with Arthur and Matt, who everyone views as his family, also creates an Al who desperately believes you choose your family. Our guy is a found family stan. EXCEPT he has such a hard time being part of the convoluted Nation dynamic that it's also hard for him to obtain that found family. THIS leads to my ultimate headcanon that Alfred is stray animal adopter, because animals are easy. You love them and they love you and that's enough.

[deesseshesca]

PAC: What vibes does your future relationship give off ?

PILE 1

3 cups, 2 wands, 6 wands (reverse), 4 swords

This is the POV of the girl who liked him for a while and your partner never led her on. She fell and never came back to herself while he was waiting for you. Now she’s archiving her thoughts in her work email …

She gathered all this info because his exes used to find a safe place in her. 

From : The girl that was never meant to fall for him 

To : The love of his life 

And I knew the moment you walked in your red, lace bodycon dress that’s was game over. I mean we can always roll it back, all the way back to the beginning of the story. The fact that I never really care for you not in a cocky or defensive way but for the very reason that you are friend of a friend. So in result a simple acquaintance which never allows me to find the time to really look at you like I did these past weeks. Yes, I know that was that easy for you to have him but it was not what I wanted and all of sudden I am envious of a girl that was non-existent a couple months ago. When my friend asked me if she could tag along to help move him, I was all in. Suddenly she opened the door and you were standing beside her as uncomfortable as everyone else. I mean we all knew each other while you only knew my homegirl. I remember looking at  everyone holding the same expression on their faces except his. A flash of intrigue sparkled in his eye. How did I know ? Are u fucking asking me how ? For real ? Like I aint spend the last 5 years of my life looking at everything about the damm man that can’t seem to take his hands off you. I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM BUT SWEAR I AM NOT OBSESSED. He loves when you play with his hair while he rests on your breast. That why he's more of a boob guy, not for some fuck up reason but because my man love to cuddle. He loves holding eye contact with the one he loves while playing with their hand is like the ultimate form of intimacy for him. Standing still and letting the love float between him and the love of his life. He loves having his hand on the girl he loves with possession. Showing her off, a hand on the waist, a hand on her tight for protection, his hands are always close by to remind the one he loves how much he cares for  her. I heard from the grapevine that he loves laying and hand on his lovers stomach when their done fucking which always fucking creep out all his ex. Because none of them were ready for the commitment he seemed to be asking for it. Yeah because that's what he does often, get with girls that are for the streets claiming he doesn't want anything serious while planning a wedding, kids and an old age couple in his mind. He has a bad savior complex with broken girls and they all let themself believe it just like I did I guess… C’mon girl … I mean don't get me wrong you are a catch but so is he. I know you have too much pride to admit it but he's growing on just like all of us. He makes buzz cuts look good and we all know 80% of men that make that bold move overestimate their beauty. Now that he has no hair we can focus on his defined jawline and proportionate face, let's not forget about his full lips. Let me add his pearly white and STRAIGHT teeth because my man suffered through the brace stage so he can charm you today with his dimple smile properly.

SHE HAS MORE TO SAY

[aezyis]

CLOVER HOLLOW by aezyis.

jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader [social media/written au]

01. always keep your eyes on the path.

series masterlist

"always keep your eyes on the path, because who knows where the woods want to take you next."

"gojo-sensei?" yuji asked, his head tilted to one side, eyebrows furrowed slightly. "is it going to be just us, during this mission?"

© aezyis, 2025

gojo was standing in front of them, his arms crossed across his chest and his shades placed precariously on his nose, focusing deeply on texting someone through his phone. at yuji's question, he looked up. "huh?"

rolling her eyes, nobara repeated yuji's question.

"oh," gojo replied after a moment. "well, i don't know. yaga told me someone from kyoto might join you guys."

an outraged cry went up among the students, so in sync that it might have been practiced.

looking up at the dark green, outlined silhouettes of the pine trees against the deep blue sky, gojo hummed to himself, as if in thought. he allowed the students to express their disapproval of kyoto for a moment as he traced the patterns of various constellations in the sky - orion, cassiopeia - before he directed his piercing gaze back at them. "well, it's not someone that you've had the pleasure of meeting before."

there was a pause, and everyone looked around in confusion. nobara twirled a strand of brown hair around her finger, eyebrows knitting together; maki looked purely exasperated.

after another moment, inumaki cleared his throat. "shake?"

their white-haired teacher shook his head. "she joined a few months back. ln yn."

"well, is she anything like the others?" maki asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

a sudden rusting of leaves made everyone turn their heads towards the canopy of trees near them, from where doctor ieri shoko emerged; a cigarette was dangling from between her slender fingers, smoke rising up from it lazily and drifting towards the night sky. it disappeared between the emerald leaves of the tall trees that created a foreground to the bright twinkling stars. shoko's eyes widened, and she watched the students and gojo warily.

"what are you guys doing here?"

nobara and yuji waved at her warmly, and she acknowledged them with a small, confused smile.

"shoko! they were just asking about the new student at the kyoto metropolitan curse technical college, the one yaga told us about."

shoko nodded, slight amusement lingering on her face. "you haven't met her, satoru."

"that's true, but you have, haven't you?"

the doctor looked at all the students, tilting her head, before nodding once more. "yep."

"what's she like, ieri-san?" yuji asked eagerly, and shoko laughed lightly.

"when i met her first, she was unconscious. but it's been a few months since then, and i've met her twice more - she's particularly friendly. if anything, she's too friendly. she doesn't get along with the kyoto students much, because they're all a little suspicious bunch of -"

"why was she unconscious?" maki interrupted, looking disinterested and vaguely weirded out.

shoko blinked, and took a puff of her cigarette eagerly. "well, she lived near a forest - the whispering river woods? or something. she and her parents. last year, a wildfire broke out in the same forest, and spread to her house. her parents were killed, and she was severely injured. i think old ln's wife - ln yn's mother - was a childhood neighbor of yaga's. thick as thieves, the way he put it. he found them, took young yn to kyoto, and brought me there to reverse cursed technique her into some semblance of a living being."

the story was just slightly unnerving. not unusual, but the fact that their soon-to-be partner used to be well-acquainted with the forest they were to go to...

"ln considers yaga her uncle. she would do anything for him, as he would've for her mother. i think she wants revenge on that forest."

"revenge?" an uneasy feeling went up through the tokyo students as they stomached the reality of the situation. people driven by love, greed and grudges were the worst kinds of people. to fight for a utopian reality, your mind had to be in a neutral, calm place.

"she'll meet you near the forest, the day after, at 10:00 am. ijichi will drop you. i think you're going to like her," gojo decided.

"but wait, sensei -"

"pack everything you can fit in one duffel bag!" gojo grinned. "you're going to go to camp clover hollow, and it's not known for being kind to its visitors."

[anzynai]

Okay, we got lee!riddle and ler!reader... but what about lee!reader and ler!riddle? The hour of reckoning. I have a real brainrot... No pressure tho.

A Cure for Boredom

Riddle & Reader (TWST)

a/n: yes. request from forever ago. i actually did get ten likes on my post so here is my promised fic. 30 minutes late, but still. are you guys proud of me? kidding. ANYWAYSSSS ive been thinking about riddle lately cuz i love him and there was a request for it so why not do it now? he might be a bit ooc so im sorry for that but besides that, enjoy!!!

summary: you’re bored, unsure what to do, so you decide to hang out with riddle. tickling ensues.

word count: 1.3k

——

You walked around the courtyard, a bit aimless and more than a little bored. You had completed all your homework for the day in between your classes and felt like getting some fresh air, so you decided to go for a walk.

There wasn’t really much you could think of doing. Ace was at his basketball club and Deuce was studying for an upcoming test, and everyone else just seemed occupied so you didn’t bother asking. Hm.

It wasn’t until you were near the end of the courtyard, mostly secluded from everyone else when you spotted a familiar face. Riddle, who was deep in concentration, staring down at a black notebook at a picnic table. In his hand was his magic pen writing diligently on the paper.

Riddle had intimidated you at first, but the longer you were at Night Raven College, you had learned that, although a bit strict at times, he wasn’t a bad person at all. In fact, he was actually pretty fun around, and you believed yourself to be close with him.

Or at least close enough to bother him while he looked like he was studying. You came up from behind him, sliding on the bench beside him, as he turned to look at you.

“Oh, it’s you,” He said, seeming a bit startled but trying to play it off. You smiled. He must have been really concentrated.

“Hey Riddle, what are you doing?” You asked, as he gestured to his paper, your eyes following.

“I’m working on an essay for my alchemy class,” He explained.

“Is it hard?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Well, mind if I keep you company?” You asked, tracing your finger absentmindedly on the table.

He turns to you again, offering a gentle smile. He had always seemed so… unhappy all the time, but recently, he had become more open-minded, and you couldn’t help but feel happy for him. You liked seeing him smile.

“Why not? Your company is much more preferable to some… others,” He replied, a certain tone behind his words that you couldn’t quite understand, but you decided not to ask.

He worked on his assignment, but you would talk to him, about the weather, about your day, what Ace and Deuce had been up to. You had a feeling those two wouldn’t exactly want you telling their business to their Housewarden, but you were sure to keep quiet about anything that could get them in trouble. They were your closest friends, though, how could you not talk about them?

Suddenly, all of a sudden, there was a flutter against your ankle, ticklish, and you jolted, moving your legs up. You looked down, seeing a small cat nuzzling against the leg of the table.

“A cat? On campus?” You asked, tilting your head.

“They sometimes come onto campus. There are a few strays on Sage island, so it only makes sense that they’d sneak into here every so often.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense,” You leaned down, holding out your hand as the cat nudges against you. You smiled, scratching at its chin softly.

“More so, did it bite you?”

“Bite me? Why do you think that?” You said confused.

“Well, you yelled. It isn’t a small matter if a stray cat bites you. It can carry disease,” Riddle replied.

“Oh, no it didn’t bite me!” You rushed to explain, not wanting to risk worrying the other. “It must’ve accidentally grazed against my leg. It just tickled, that’s all.”

“Tickled…” Riddle said, seeming relieved, but suddenly, you felt curious.

“Are you ticklish?” You asked, your words exiting your mouth before you had the chance to think.

Riddle’s face went as red as his hair, which you didn’t know was possible, but you still found strangely endearing. “W-what kind of..?!”

“Sorry, guess you weren’t expecting that,” You laughed at his reaction. Riddle tried to clear his throat and calm himself down. “Is that a yes then?”

“It is not.”

“Really?” You replied, but a cheeky smirk appears on your face and before he had the chance to respond, you decided that the best way to answer your question was trying it out yourself. The cat, startled by your quick movements, ran away. You felt a little disappointed and guilty, but you were on a mission now.

As you pinched his sides, Riddle bit his lip, as he shook, his homework forgotten. Exactly two seconds later, Riddle was giggling and laughing, seemingly unable to know what to do with himself.

“Y-youhuhu stohohop thihihis!” He cried, embarrassed, putting his arms in front of him.

“No way, this is awesome!” You said, pure glee plain as day on your face as you grinned brightly.

If you told yourself months ago, you’d be tickling Riddle Rosehearts, you would not have believed yourself for a second. But here you were, your hands tickling his sensitive skin and him laughing and laughing as a result. You had to admit, you were feeling pretty great.

That is, until you felt fingers pinching at your sides, causing you to flinch hard. You faltered, before Riddle leaned over you, tickling you ruthlessly.

“Wahahahit! Rihihihihiddle! Stohohop!” You exclaimed, feeling your face flush as you realize you had let your guard down and forgot who you were dealing with.

Now if you told yourself months ago, Riddle Rosehearts would be tickling you, you definitely wouldn’t have believed yourself. In fact, you’d probably believe you’d die before that’d happen. It just wasn’t his style, you know? And yet again, you were proven to be very, very wrong.

“Did you think I would just let you.. tickle me?” He said, hesitating a bit and you would’ve laughed about it, but you were currently occupied in.. laughing for other reasons.

“I dohohon’t knohohow!” You cried, squirming as you fell back, trying to get away from Riddle without falling off the bench.

“Well,” Riddle said, a smug smile on his face, clearly proud of himself for catching you off-guard and turning the tables. “I’ll make you regret ever trying.”

Oh no. You were in trouble, weren’t you?

He moved his fingers to your stomach, scratching and scribbling. His movements were obviously awkward and inexperienced, but effective, nonetheless.

“Plehehehease!”

“Please? I can’t understand what you’re saying.” Riddle asked.

“Rihihihihiddle! W-why!?”

“Are you seriously asking that right now? You started this. I’m ending it, simple as that.”

He began poking at your ribs, and you let out a squeal. How embarrassing…! You squirmed, frantically, pushing away at his hands, but he was stronger than you thought he was, to your dismay.

When he started making his way to other sensitive spots on your body, you felt your laughter raise an octave, as much as you tried to stop it.

“Nohohoho, plehehhe— GAH!” You shrieked, leaning back a bit too far and falling off the bench on the grass. Riddle, obviously, stopped right away, looking down at you in concern.

“Are you alright?” He asked, as you rubbed your back, breathing deeply.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” You assured him, feeling the pain slowly go away, as you stood to sit back on the bench. Riddle didn’t try to tickle you again, something you were grateful for because you felt as though if he did, you wouldn’t last a second.

Still, a part of you felt happy that you were at least close enough to Riddle to be getting into tickle fights, of all things, with him. You couldn’t imagine him tickling someone he was only acquainted with.

“You’re evil,” You said, after finally regaining your breath. Riddle had gone back to working on his assignment after ensuring you were okay, so casually as if nothing had ever happened.

Knowing him, though, you were sure he was still thinking about it. At least a little bit.

Hearing your words, he looked at you. “Evil?”

“So evil! You totally destroyed me,” You whined. “So unfair.”

At that, Riddle let out a laugh. “Don’t start fights you can’t win. It’s not unfair at all.”

You rolled your eyes, half-heartedly. “You won this time, but who’s to say you’ll win the next time. Or the next one after that?”

“I’d like to see you try,” Riddle replied, and it took you a second to realize that he was agreeing that there would be a next time, and you resisted the urge to celebrate. Riddle went back to his work, and you.. well, you’ll be coming up with ideas to get Riddle back, in the meantime.

[saturnzskyzz]

Ler In-ho with Gi-hun tkl headcannon's!!!

Everyone clap and cheer for my first headcannon request!!! Clap it up 👏👏👏 thank you @ryoko-loves-roses for this request! I don't make that much headcannon's, so bare with me 😭🙏 I also didn't say this on text, but In-ho tickling Gi-hun to lift up his spirits is such a good headcannon!! Might have to take that into consideration and wip up a fic after blasting through my fic requests ✍️ (I'm sorry for how long this is 😭 I might've gotten carried away)

ANYWAY!

I feel that since Jung-bae and Gi-hun have reunited in the games, Jung-bae has a sudden urge to pick on him for that, and how he does it is through poking his sides or stomach, causing Gi-hun to break into a small, nervous smile! And since they have their little group with In-ho and everyone else, he notices this quite often, and so that's when he takes it upon himself to use that fact for himself!

How I think he'd tickle Gi-hun as a way to lift his spirits up, I feel that he would go light, and try to make it seem like they're friends just having a good laugh because he's having to make amends with these people in order to fit in, so he.. OH so totallyyy shows him just a tiny bit of mercy because he's acting with those who are in debt.. Totally not because he's also enjoying the fun banter... Totally.. Only a tiny bit though.

-he goes light and is cautious, but also, he still have that evil side with him.

-he'll literally forget half way through tickling Gi-hun as to why he's even tickling him in the first place, causing Gi-hun to become breathy with his giggles. (it's the contagious and interesting sight he sees from Gi-hun just losing his Michivious and dark persona just by a few pokes to the sides)

-he'll even laugh with Gi-hun because that's how contagious his giggles are!

-he'd give teases here and there, and would sometimes tease too much, resulting in Gi-hun laughing his fucking head off because he can't handle the teases while being tickled, so In-ho is now dealing with a flustered mess of a puddle infront of him. (He teases him about that too)

-I think his tease would go along the lines of;

"I'm glad I've caught Jung-bae poking you, this is just perfect!"

"You're seriously this sensitive? For you to be a previous winner, I'm impressed!"

"Can you hear yourself right now? I'd mistake you as a little girl!"

"Awe, are we going all flustered now? That's cute."

OH MY GOD Gi-hun would flip on a table and break it by the harsh landing cause WHAT?!

Since he's wanting to lift his spirits, I don't think he'd use his free hand to pin Gi-hun's hands.. I KNOW IT'S A CURVE BALL BUT TRUST ME!

He'd leave them free to roam and thrash cause let's be honest.. Gi-hun isn't doing shit 😭 (touch-starved much??)

And he'd also tease him about that too!

"You got all the hands in the world, and yet you don't even stop me? It's like you wanted this to happen."

When he's done, gi-hun is such a flustered mess that he just stays there for a few minutes, resulting in In-ho giving his left over milk that he would have to give him to calm him down!

The aftercare like that is on instinct because of past tickle fights with Jun-ho I'M SORRY-

I hope these were good! I wanted to focus on the idea you had for Gi-hun having his spirits lifted cause aaaah!!! That's a good idea!

[ivelle-serenity]

Skateboard 16

Wind breaker

fem bodied reader | smut | action | pwp | jayjo/fml | vinny/fml | wooin/fml | joker/fml | hyuk/fml | owen/fml | enemies to lovers | angsty | the other woman (?) | reverse harem | fluff | SLOW BURN! | all characters featured are 18+

author's note: hi everyone! i'm sorry for ghosting you for months. school has been so stressful that i didn't even get a chance to read updates from wind breaker. BUT I'm back! thank you all for reading my story!

✧˖° — windbreaker men

✧˖° — mdni, smut, description of not safe for work content.

✧˖° — this is a story not one shot.

I slowly opened my eyes, feeling a strange tightness in my stomach. It was like I was about to throw up. I glanced around, trying to figure out where I was, and then looked down at where I was lying. I was on a soft mattress on the floor, my black shirt lifted slightly, exposing my stomach. My joggers were barely hanging on, the drawstring untied. I held my head and turned to the side.

My eyes widened. "What the—" I quickly covered my mouth, afraid of waking the person next to me. He was lying on his stomach, facing my direction, deep in sleep. His arms were wrapped around a pillow.

Why am I alone with Jay?! Panic surged through me. Even though I was dizzy, I managed to sit up. I frowned when my foot hit something—like a body. I felt a wave of relief when I looked down and saw June sleeping at our feet. Shaking my head, I fixed my hair. My gaze fell on Jay again. He looked so peaceful, fast asleep. Unlike when he’s awake—he’s intimidating, unapproachable.

My heart raced again, and I quickly averted my eyes, rubbing my temples. Did I do something terrible last night while I was drunk? I bit my lower lip, struggling to remember what had happened.

We already know.

I know something they don't.

Can you stay away from me from now on? Please?

"Holy shit. Oh, please don’t tell me—" My eyes went wide, and I scrambled off the mattress, trying to be careful not to wake the two of them. Once I was out of the room, I saw Dom sleeping on the floor, clutching Yuna in his arms. Aria was also fast asleep, mouth open. I scanned the room for Minu and Mia, but when I spotted them, I was surprised to see they were already awake.

Mia was making coffee for herself and Minu. They hadn’t noticed me yet, too busy chatting and smiling. What a lovely couple. When will I ever experience something like that? I sighed and immediately looked for my stuff.

"Demitra, you're awake!" Mia’s sudden voice startled me. I forced a smile and nodded, still searching for my bag, which Dom had apparently slept on. "Come join us. What do you want? Milk? Coffee? Or milked coffee?" she asked cheerfully.

"Water is fine," I said, giving her a small smile.

"Water in the morning? Are you an alien?" Minu joked. I chuckled and shook my head, pointing at my stomach.

"If I drink any of what Mia mentioned, I'll end up in the bathroom," I said, making them both laugh.

When Mia handed me the glass of water, I caught the two of them exchanging glances. It was as if they were communicating silently. These friends really had a habit of doing that, even when it was so obvious. After taking a sip, I set the glass down on the counter and crossed my arms, leaning against the sink.

"I know you two know something. You’re way too obvious," I joked, raising an eyebrow at them.

Mia looked flustered, her eyes darting to her boyfriend, as if silently begging him to speak for her. "W-Well, yesterday, Principal Nick told us something about you. About you being a professional rider—"

I burst out laughing. "Professional? Please, did Nick really say that?" I asked in disbelief. "I’m not. Let’s just say I’m an expert."

"But it's the same thing!" Mia jumped in. I just shrugged.

"It’s not," I said, still chuckling.

Minu suddenly grew serious, putting his glass down. "Why didn’t you tell us you're famous in England? As the underground princess? And that you’re friends with Owen from High Calvary!" he said, catching me off guard. Did Gramps really tell them everything? At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if he also mentioned my favorite food.

"Ew, don’t ever call me that again," I cringed. "And I’m not friends with him. I just know him." I avoided their gazes, just as I noticed Yuna stirring awake, probably overhearing our conversation.

"That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard in my life."

"Minu!"

I laughed as Mia scolded him. She gave me an apologetic look, clearly embarrassed by what her boyfriend had said. "You can ask him if you want." Please don’t.

"You beat him once," Yuna chimed in, despite just waking up.

"I don’t remember that," I replied, playing dumb. She just scoffed at me. "And, going back to what you said earlier, I’m not famous. I was just known in the underground. And that was years ago, so yeah, I’m not relevant there anymore," I said with a laugh, brushing it off.

"Stop being humble, Demitra," Minu said, and I just shot him a glare. "But the main point is, you're stronger than everyone else. I don't even understand how you lost to Jay. No offense to my best friend." He added, but my eyes widened when I saw Jay standing by the now-open sliding door.

"You're overthinking it," I replied, picking up my bag. "Even if you say I’m strong, biking isn’t my thing anymore. I’ve already told you that. I only got back into it to help you guys out." Everyone went silent at my words. "I did have fun helping you, though. Just make sure you explain things to your friend Shelly when she finds out about that video circulating. She's going to freak out seeing her 'clone' on the screen." I glanced over at Jay, who was standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall, watching me closely.

"Why do you sound like you’re leaving us after this?" We all turned in surprise to see Dom awake, scratching his head and clearly just having woken up.

"We still want you to be our friend, Demitra," June said softly, his eyes gentle, making my heart ache a little. I laughed to mask the emotions stirring inside me.

I knew they wouldn’t understand, but I needed to keep my distance. Nick already knew I was in Korea, and it wouldn’t be long before he told Shelly. The last thing I wanted was to run into her at school. Call me bitter, but I was only trying to protect myself. I couldn’t afford to get hurt again, especially not after being betrayed by my old friends.

"I appreciate it. We’re still friends, you know. And I’m not leaving." At least, not yet.

They made sure I had breakfast before I could even mention going home. As expected, Dom wouldn’t stop pestering me about how it felt to be famous in England, even asking for tips on how to beat international competitors, knowing I had beaten plenty in races before. Mia and the others, on the other hand, kept trying to pry into how I knew Owen, but I kept dodging the topic. The whole time, I could feel Jay’s eyes on me, and it was driving me crazy. Our conversation from last night kept replaying in my mind, making me avoid him even more.

"Last question, how did you learn to ride a bike?" Aria asked, stopping me in my tracks. The face of a man who had been absent from my life for so long immediately flashed in my mind. His earrings were the one thing I always remembered whenever he crossed my thoughts.

"From my dad," I said, half-truth, half-lie.

"Damn, I wish your dad could teach me!" June exclaimed.

"Never again. I’ll never take lessons from dads again. The last time I did, I nearly died from how hard Shelly’s dad pushed me," Dom said, practically on the verge of tears. I feigned surprise, though I knew all too well how strict Mark could be.

"Oh, Jay, where are you going?" Aria asked when she saw him stand up.

"Home," he replied shortly, not even glancing in my direction.

"Why don't you and Demitra leave together? So she has someone to walk with," Yuna suggested, and I nearly choked. Out of all the people who could’ve said that, it had to be her. I quickly shook my head.

"Then let’s go," Jay said coldly, addressing me directly. My mouth fell open in shock before I glared at him.

After saying my goodbyes to everyone, I hopped on my bike. I saw Jay already outside, waiting for me. I sighed before riding over to him. He was adjusting his helmet when he spoke.

"You should have told them you're leaving," he said, catching me off guard.

"What?"

His tired eyes looked straight at me. "You lied to them. Don’t just disappear without saying goodbye," he said before pedaling away.

My jaw dropped as I quickly followed him.

"What makes you think I’m leaving?"

"You literally said it last night."

I clenched my jaw, trying to think of an excuse. Hurry up, Demitra! Think of something. "I have no reason to leave, Jay," I lied, but he didn’t seem to care. His indifference made me even more annoyed. "Maybe you didn’t understand what I said last night. Why would I leave? I don’t have any enemies at Sunny High."

"Do you really want to talk about this?" he asked, his eyes locking onto mine. A chill ran down my spine.

"Yes! Tell me, Jay. Why would I leave?" I fired back. If you really don’t know anything, prove it. You’re hiding something. I could tell last night when you tried to act like you didn’t know. I’m not stupid.

He shook his head and sighed. "Stop asking me questions only you can answer," he said coldly. "If anything, I should be asking you that. Why are you leaving? Is there someone you’re scared to run into?"

His words struck a nerve.

"What the hell is your problem?" I snapped, making him stop. "I’ve had enough of your riddles, Jay. Just tell me what your issue is with me. You keep dropping hints about things you think you know, and it’s driving me insane. You keep looking at me like you’re waiting for something, and now this? Agreeing to walk me home after I literally told you to stay away from me?"

His expression shifted into something unreadable. "I don’t have a problem with you—"

"Then stop messing with me. If you know something, just say it. Tell me, what exactly did you hear from Nick?" I demanded, stopping my bike and glaring at him. His jaw tightened as he took a deep breath.

"I only told you what I heard last night, nothing more." He was lying again. What the hell? I nodded slowly, scoffing in disbelief. Ignoring him, I pedaled faster, trying to get away. Why does he keep messing with my head? What does he really know? From the way he talks, it's as if he knows everything about my secret.

I veered off the main route, taking a different path to put more distance between us. Thankfully, he didn’t try to follow. I wasn’t in the mood for another race with him. It took me 30 minutes to reach the park. I parked my bike and dropped myself onto the grass, frustrated. I held my head in my hands, trying to shake off the haunting memories.

"Is it true, Nick? Shelly’s engaged to Owen?"

"Yes, Demitra. Why? Didn’t Owen tell you? Aren’t you two close?" Nick had approached me, but I stepped back, covering my mouth. My body trembled at his words. After all this time, Owen is engaged to my friend? And Shelly knew? They both kept this from me?

Tears, which I had been trying to hold back, finally spilled over. "Demitra, why are you—" Nick began, but I cut him off.

I gripped my hair tightly, burying my face in my knees as the tears streamed down. I couldn’t understand why I still felt so much pain after all these years. I should’ve moved on by now. I should’ve forgotten them, but why was this happening to me? Why do the people I’ve been trying to forget keep coming back? My heart tightened painfully in my chest.

"I didn’t let you go just to see you cry."

I froze at the voice. Lifting my head, I saw Vinny leaning against his motorcycle, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. I quickly looked away, wiping my tears.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the race?" I changed the subject.

"It seems you really don’t care about the Sabbath, huh? The race ended a while ago," he said, lighting a cigarette. He even offered me one, but I shook my head. He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised I wasn’t smoking.

"Did they find out?" I asked quietly.

"See this?" He pointed to a bruise on his cheek. "That's your boyfriend’s doing," he said before tossing the cigarette, even though he hadn’t taken a puff.

"I don’t have a boyfriend," I shot back, giving him a glare.

"Wooin is a smart guy. No one can fool him," he muttered, staring straight ahead at the road. "They’re pissed. Not just at me, though."

I sighed. "I’m sorry. You fought because of me," I apologized, feeling guilty.

"We were already fighting long before this, even without you," he said casually, lying down on the grass. "So tell me, why are you here? Did Hummingbird finally kick you out after using you?" He looked at me sharply.

"You know your friends aren’t like that," I said, meeting his gaze with equal intensity.

[ubemango]

commission 6: friends-to-lovers!Hoseok

note 1: for Miss Sam!!!!!!!! Thank you for your help back in November!!!!!!!!!! I hope sexy sexy brother’s best friend/f2l!Hoseok is Good To you!!!!!!!!!!! Mwah!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰💕💕💕💕💕😁😁😁😁😁

note 2: a little background--the premise for this story did not come easy to me. Like At All!!!! I was struggling--AGAIN--with Exposition and you know what I learned? in medias res never fails me. Truly she is God. I love her. Anywho, Keyword(s): Talking to your dog for emotional support! Tension! Mutual pining!!!!!!!!! Being so close you don’t know what to do with yourself anymore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Word count: 4.5k. Class is in session!

note 3: a big big biiiiiiiiig Thank You to @b1usides and @angelguk for helping me out with this ;_; Truly would not have come out with this without you I love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you for ur input and insight and interest and MWAH !!!

(note 4: I wrote all those previous notes back in 2020. GOOD LORD IT IS 2025. This is not a come back I just wanted to post this because I wrote so much of it and I’m tired of thinking my writing is too ugly to post. It can be ugly but also exist on this blog. Yay!!!!!!! Mindset mindset! I wuuuvvvv youuuu my friends I hope you’re doing well!!!!)

“Now?”

“Now,” Yoongi says, “and don’t come up with excuses about being busy because I know you’re doing your dalgona shit right now.”

You slide the bottle of instant coffee a little closer to your chest for protection. He probably overheard you talking to your mom about your plans in the kitchen last night. “You’re evil.”

“Whatever. Just–come, please? Everyone’s busy and Hoseok won’t finish unpacking today if we don’t get the help.”

Hearing that name sends electricity down to your toes. “What’s in it for me?”

“Being a nice sister–“ Yoongi’s breath is stifled with effort, probably from lifting a box– “and helping my best friend move into his new apartment?”

“I just got home–“

“I wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t important. The air conditioning here hasn’t been turned on yet,” he baits, and you hiss at that. “You know what that’s like.”

You do. The sun is unforgiving in the throes of late spring, and even you’d been contemplating holding out on your move back to avoid the heat. You’d made sure to finish unpacking last night, the loom of today’s plus-twenty weather with humidity heavy on your shoulders. Yoongi’s strangled tone tells you Hoseok’s got a billion and one things to unpack.

“Fine,” you concede. “Just text me the address.”

“Don’t take too long.”

The line cuts. You get the text in three seconds.

You stare forlornly at the whisk and bowl you’d gotten out, watching your phone screen light up with Yoongi’s text. To think you’d be hauling ass with cardboard boxes instead of making frothy coffee. What you thought would be a little welcome-back activity now that you’ve moved back home with your family instead lies toppled since you’ve been voluntold for other plans.

Plans to see Hoseok for the first time in years.

Immediately, you hold your breath. Maybe if you restrict your airflow then things won’t be so real and sudden, and why couldn’t Yoongi have called Namjoon, or something? He’s ten times as strong as you are. He lives in the city, too. You feel cheated. Older brothers don’t like taking things into consideration.

Your lungs burst into a yelp when something furry brushes against your leg, which, thankfully, stops you from contemplating all of Yoongi’s wrongdoings with revenge. You realize you’ve got your fist tight around the whisk.

“Girl, you scared me!”

Boppa stares at you with her long eyelashes and sits down at your feet. She’s the picturesque prettiness of a ten-year-old cockapoo. It’s kind of insulting looking at her sometimes.

“Boppa, I think my life’s about to fall apart and it’s all Yoongi’s fault,” you tell her.

She offers no response. You drop the whisk, reach over for her treat jar, and pop the dried meat into her mouth. Just a reward for the anxious rambling you’re about to dump on her pretty little head.

“Remember senior year, Boppa, and I couldn’t do my calculus homework because I missed too many classes? So Hoseok helped me out with all the problems I didn’t get?” You don’t think she does. She just pants, watching you put your mise-en-place away. “Or when he helped me make soup for Yoongi when he had the flu that one time?”

In your head, a dam breaks, and it all comes roiling back.

The way you remember Hoseok is different every time. Little disjointed moments throughout high school, college, and it starts with junior year, when he’d come over after a music council meeting with Yoongi. He’d walked past the living room, caught sight of your puffed face from crying over Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds; so startled by your hiccuping that he’d offered you a coupon to the pizza place near school and told you to get lunch with it the next day. Because pretty girls don’t deserve to cry, and Yoongi slapped his neck for being too nice to his little sister and dragged him upstairs to practice for their sectional.

It’s who he is, has always been. The kindness that never wavers, always there when you need help–carrying groceries into the kitchen when your mom complained about bad knees, patiently waiting for you to work through a difficult log function, walking Boppa when Yoongi was too lazy to do it. College Hoseok disappeared for a bit, busy with obligations and social circles. But like all strong currents, he came back with a force, seeking refuge on your couch after an overnight stay at school. 

(You’d made him a snack, that time. He gave you the prettiest smile ever. When you’d settled into bed, you could hear his snoring from your bedroom.

You slept so well that night.)

“Boppa, why,” you wail. “Why is this all coming back. I just got home.”

She blinks. You toss her another treat. She eats it well.

“I’m not in love with him.” Affirmations, affirmations. It’s good to air out your grievances, especially since no one is home to hear them. “I’m not!”

Boppa looks at you as if to say, I haven’t accused you of anything, so why are you so strung up?

“I don’t know what’s going on!” You shriek, slamming your palms on the counter.

Logically, you’re correct: you aren’t in love with Hoseok. He was just so overwhelmingly good. Attachments formed. Hoseok came to your home all the time. And home is a permanent fixture you could never get rid of, and you’d been away for two years, living in the western side of the city, forgetting you had a life back here, learning new intersections, knowing where to touch fruits to see if they were ripe, seducing the hot pharmacy man into a spicy romance (and subsequently dealing with the heartbreak), living, accomplishing, and these things end. Some parts of life end so you come back home, and Hoseok is home, you’re home, and the one thing about all of this is that it’s all Yoongi’s fault!

You close your eyes, feel the rush of your entire life come to a halt right at this very moment. You wanted coffee, not an attack on all your senses.

“Boppa,” you say, realizing something else. “I need a housewarming gift.”

You hear her get up, and you watch her stop where you’d left your extra bag of rice from unpacking. She lies down in front of it.

“Do you think that’s a good gift?”

She yawns. You google the meaning of offering jasmine rice as a gift for new homes.

“Abundance of love and food,” you say from your findings. It’s good. “Smart girl.”

She makes a grunting noise when you carry the bag away from her, and accepts the kiss you leave behind her ear as your goodbye for now.

She’s due for her mid-afternoon nap. You’re due for a reality check.

The drive over to the apartment is short, and you’re thankful because your seat belt scorches you when you shift the wrong way,  and suddenly your mood is sour all over again. But your parallel parking, though–it’s so immaculate you almost start crying. The balance of good and evil in your life makes you tired. The giant bag of rice almost makes you tip into the asphalt of the sidewalk.

Security buzzes you in with the code Yoongi sent you, and no later than 20 seconds pass when you find yourself in front of unit two-eighteen. You knock, and steel yourself.

The door opens.

“The fuck is that?” Yoongi snorts.

You heat high in your cheeks at the interrogation. “Boppa told me to do it.”

“Our dog told you to bring rice?”

“It’s a gift,” you seethe, “and our dog is a magical dog.” (It’s the truth. Somehow when Boppa howls, your mom will suddenly come up with cryptic news. The last time, an old auntie died.)

“I like it,” a voice says, and suddenly Hoseok is nudging Yoongi out the way. His entrance freezes you in your spot. His fingers brush against yours when he takes the bag from your hands. “Really. My mom brought rice for when my sister moved out–means abundance, or something.”

“Exactly,” is all you can breathe out, and he smiles–just as you remember–and then he disappears into another room. Never one for grand gestures; he comes and goes. Maybe it was just a ghost who happened to look like Hoseok and really liked lifting rice into the netherworld.

The slam of the grain against what’s probably the kitchen counter interrupts the thought. Yoongi makes a disgruntled noise, which more or less means come in before I start insulting you.

“We’re fixing the bed frame right now,” he explains, the door squeaking shut under his hand. “It’s already super hot in there so just–don’t come in.”

“Man sweats?”

“You know how meat smells when you’ve left it out on the counter all day?”

You recoil automatically. “I–? Ew.”

He’s joking. Probably. But it’s enough to make you stay away from that part of the apartment. The living room space is comfortably small; enough square feet to classify as cozy, not cramped. The linger of heat is a silent threat–you can already feel yourself starting to get sticky under your collar. They’ve got a mini-fan propped on one of the many boxes littered on the carpeted floor, though, whirring through little bursts of air.

There are so many boxes. The thought alone is making you sweat more.

“Thank you for the help.” Hoseok pops in again. Brushing his hair away from his sticky forehead, and you’re almost offended at how suave that move was. The audacity of good-looking people to do good-looking things unprovoked. “I really appreciate it.”

You could never refuse him. This is the truth you’ve always known. “It’s no problem. I didn’t think you’d have this much stuff.”

He flounders with a sheepish smile. “Yeah. I didn’t think I did either, but I had a whole nest of shit that I had back home in my closet and I didn’t want to throw anything out.”

“So for nostalgic purposes you’re risking heat exhaustion, is what you’re saying,” you joke.

“So mean.” Hoseok puts his hand over his heart. “You really wound me, you know?”

Yoongi interrupts with a cough. “You guys are boring, I’m going back to the bed frame.”

“I’ll be there in a sec,” Hoseok calls after him. He stands rigid for a second, gathering his thoughts. Probably just avoiding responsibility for a few precious seconds because going back to the proclaimed Meat Room sounds like a painful thought. “Um–I would catch up more but I just–I really need this done before we actually pass out.”

“It’s okay. Really.” He nods his gratitude. “Where should I start?”

“We’ve already done the bathroom, so… you think you can start with the kitchen?”

You nod. Hoseok sighs another “thank you, again,” and takes two steps backwards, as if to keep that soft gaze on you for as long as possible. He spins away before you can think too hard about it.

The kitchen is separated from the living room by the sink, and this is where all the goodies sit. One box is labeled with nothing on the side. Another has nothing but a picture of a smiling plate, a tiny fork and spoon holding hands. But the most enticing one is the box that says MUGS, SO MANY MUGS! MOM CAN’T FIT THEM ALL!

His mom’s loopy handwriting is so cute. You start with this one. In the bedroom, Yoongi screams.

“Are you okay?” You yell out, ripping at the tape with your nail, sorting the bubble-wrapped mugs by… colour? Shape? Who even owns a mug made out to be a literal octopus? The suction cups are so weirdly detailed. You put that furthest in the cupboard above your head, and pop a couple bubbles of bubble wrap to feel better.

“‘M fine,” he calls back. “Hoseok almost hacked off my thumb.”

“I did not!” Hoseok responds passionately.

They stay silent, save for more banging on wood. You organize to the clipped rhythm of the fan swaying back and forth.

It barely dawns on you that you’re in Hoseok’s new kitchen, voluntarily fixing his stuff. And if you thought about it, he would absolutely do the same for you. The symbiotic relationship of being nice just because. It’s the only way you know how to interact with each other. Someone gives, someone receives.

(You missed home. You missed Hoseok.)

It takes half an hour to sort through all the kitchen essentials. The plates and the bowls are stowed away neatly, cutlery in the first drawer below the counter. All the cleaning supplies are safe under the sink. The bag of rice sits heavy in its spot where Hoseok had left it. You’re sweating.

Not as badly as Yoongi and Hoseok are, though. They trudge in the kitchen, breathing hard, eyebrows wet with their effort.

“We’re done with the room,” Hoseok greets. Yoongi ignores you and goes straight for the handle of the fridge. He reaches for two water bottles, and hands the second one to Hoseok. “Wow, you cleared this fast.”

The compliment should not be as hard-hitting as it should be. Your giddiness is silent. “It was easy. Also your octopus mug really freaked me out so I put it, like, as far away from reach as possible.”

“I got him that mug,” Yoongi complains.

“You couldn’t have gotten him a nicer mug?”

“No?”

“You’re ugly,” you retaliate. Yoongi scrunches his face, and drinks his water angrily.

“I like the mug,” Hoseok inserts, brushing past you to open the drawers, eyeing your work, “but yeah, it is kind of. Uh. Out there.”

“Am I being insulted right now?” Yoongi asks.

“It’s an ugly mug,” you say.

“And you got him an ugly bag of rice.”

“I told you Boppa told me to do it!”

“How’s Boppa?” Hoseok interrupts, checking where you’d put the medicine, the first-aid.

“She’s–“

“–good,” you and Yoongi say at the same time. The look he sends you is venomous.

“Stop copying me.”

“You’re ugly,” you say again.

“You guys need to stop giving me whiplash every five seconds,” Hoseok complains. You know he’s used to it, though. Banter that toes the line of actual hurtful words. It’s a common conversation. He inspects the cupboard above the sink next, making little approving noises. “Ooh, bowls on top of the plates. Very nice.”

“I taught her that,” Yoongi says. Which–yes, he technically did, but now you’re just annoyed because he ripped the compliment right from your nose, and now he’s smiling because he knows you’re pissed.

The fan sings its mechanical song. Fighting Yoongi burns up so much energy you fear you’ll collapse once it comes down to fixing up the living room.

Except.

Your brother opens his stupid mouth again, and announces, “I need to leave.”

Hoseok whips around from where he was inspecting the cleaning supplies. “What?”

“Shit. I had to pick up mom from the station.”

The green-lit time on the stove says it’s five till seven. You picture your sweet little mother waiting behind the doors to the passenger pick-up parking lot, and confide in the thought that she’ll probably smack Yoongi once he pulls up. “You’re gonna be late.”

“Oh really,” he mocks. “If I get pulled over for speeding you’ll bail me out, right? Yeah? Cool. I’m sorry. Good luck. Don’t die. Hoseok, take care of her. Or–whatever. It was fun.”

Before either of you can respond, he bolts out, and slams the door behind him in a spectacularly hard fashion.

“Well,” Hoseok says.

“Huh,” you comment.

You make a mental note to kill your brother. Preferably by means of limited gore, maximum pain. Because now you’re alone with the bane (boon?) of your existence in the kitchen with too many thoughts in your head again and again it’s Yoongi’s fault and you wonder why your breakdowns always have to happen in the kitchen.

Calmly, you drink your water.

“So, uh…”

Hoseok fidgets with the empty mug box on the counter. His ears are bright red.

“You wanna–get started with the living room?” You attempt to save the conversation before it gets too awkward.

“Yes,” he agrees quickly, and scurries out with the same swiftness as Yoongi’s departure.

Did he not want to be close to you? Did you smell like meat, too? You put your deodorant on this morning. You sniff at your armpit secretly while Hoseok chooses a stack of boxes to open, and conclude that it is not your good-smelling sweat that’s driving him away, but something else you’re not aware of.

“Honestly, there’s not much here to unpack, a lot of these are just like–winter jackets, the electric cords for the TV…”

“Why don’t we start with the bookcase?”

It looms with emptiness, tucked away into the corner. The dark oakwood that housed all the precious things he said he couldn’t throw away. It feels a little personal, knowing it contains his accomplishments. His secrets? His school yearbooks? A family picture, maybe, stuffed toys he might’ve won from a carnival. For a second you imagine how it would feel, unpacking your things and his things in your own shared space.

“Sure,” Hoseok decides.

You pick the biggest box to open first. The tape has ripped at the corners, sides bulging slightly from the things crammed inside. Some dust flings off when you whip the top open, and inside is way too many books. Elementary school yearbooks, a massive cookbook, the entirety of A Series of Unfortunate Events.

“I didn’t know you read,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth.

Hoseok startles into laughter. “Uh..?”

“I meant–oh god you know what I mean.” You blush at the slip-up. But Hoseok pays no heed, just laughs even harder.

“It’s fine. It’s–yeah. Back in high school. Found the first book in some second-hand store and ended up buying the rest.”

That explains why the first one is so much more worn down than the others. Loved, flipped through. You heave the box onto the floor, sit down next to it. Criss-cross applesauce. You begin sorting through it one by one.

“So how are you? Now that you’re back home, and all.” Hoseok handles something that clinks slightly–pots of succulents. He staggers on his tip-toes to fit them pretty on the top shelf. You think back to your brief crisis of identity in the kitchen at home.

“I wanted to make the dalgona coffee today but I had a change of plans.”

Hoseok sighs. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“All good. But to answer your question…” There was no exciting answer to impress him with. You’re back for convenience, lack of work. Ordinary reasons. You don’t want to entertain lengthy stories in the fog of this heat, anyway. “It’s… I’m just back. That internship was all I had going for me, so I’m still on a job hunt.”

“That’s really cool, though. I remember your sketchbooks. And when you built that seat to look like a huge-ass Converse shoe.”

It was one of your projects for junior year. “Yeah, it… I don’t know where that is now, probably stuck in the basement somewhere.”

“Sell it on eBay.”

“Like anyone would pay for that shit.” It literally was a giant wooden slab made to look like a shoe, soft enough for reclining. “It’s ugly.”

Hoseok shrugs. “It wasn’t. But keep thinking that, silly, go ahead.”

“It’s just–I can’t believe you know I built that. Like you remember that? I don’t even remember building it.”

He contemplates. “I’ll always remember you,” he answers, very simply, and for a while he lets it linger, like it hadn’t just gotten your heart racing so fast.

The silence is scary. Maybe he’s trying to read your mind. Maybe if you made a loud noise in your head, he’d be startled. You start thinking about the most obscene moaning noises, straight out of soft, amateur pornography that you see floating on your timeline sometimes. But Hoseok doesn’t budge. 

Damn. He just continues on.

“Do you still cry when The Proposal comes on?”

“Oh spare me,” you beg, itching to slap his leg. He shudders with his laughing. “How about you? You still cry when someone talks about the White Lady?”

You think back to a 16-year-old Hoseok sleeping over at your house once, so vexed by Yoongi’s searches on horror forums that night he’d made sure Boppa slept in the room with them. “You’ll curse my apartment!”

“I’d have to say the name three times, you know.”

He watches you from above with frightened eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

Hoseok should know better than to trust his best friend’s sister. Right as you taunt him with the first syllable–(“Whi…“)–he tucks the last succulent away on the shelf, drops down on his knees, and shoves a hot hand over your lips.

“I will actually, genuinely, really, reallyreallyreally hate you forever,” he threatens.

Well.

You wouldn’t want that.

He is devastatingly close, his gaze so frenzied you’re starting to feel bad. The heat comes in waves: the stifling living room, the pathetic blows of wind from the fan. Hoseok’s body. Proximity you haven’t known in forever. He just stares.

You garble from behind his mouth. “Sto’ wooing ame.”

“What?”

You slide his palm off your wet lip. “Stop looking at me,” you repeat.

“I can’t just look at you?”

Oh. He –?

“You – !” You swat at him like he’s a pesky mosquito, warding off the thirst for your embarrassment. He sits next to you, laughing. “I’m sweaty and my concealer is creasing.”

“You look fine.”

“To you.” You pat under your eyes. “I’m ugly to me.”

“Me is stupid,” he counters.

“Me will kick you if you don’t finish clearing this shit out!”

Hoseok relents, careful to test your aggression. He’s sweating, too. He wipes at his neck, sighing into straight posture from creaky knees. “We can just finish this then call it a night,” he offers. “Are you almost done with that box?”

You lug the cookbook into the remaining space of the shelf. “It’s done.”

“Cool. Then could you just–” he gestures to the cardboard near his feet with one hand, arranging more succulents with the other– “grab that for me?”

You reach over with a grunt, gentle in your hold of the pot. It’s a money plant. “From your mom?”

“I don’t even like plants,” Hoseok complains. He looks to the side of the bookshelf, realizing there’s no space to accommodate the larger pot. Dejected, he just leaves it where he stands. “I’m fixing this tomorrow, I don’t care. Let’s go outside.”

Outside is the balcony, which isn’t as oppressively hot as it is inside but still has you disappointed that it’s, well, hot. There’s no escaping it. Hoseok has to use his entire body weight to slide open the glass doors. “Shit fucking doors. Do you think Yoongi carries WD-40?”

“Probably. Tell him it’s his welcoming gift for you.”

He snorts. “I’d feel guilty. He already did a lot, building the bed with me.”

You follow him to where he leans on the railing. His unit faces west. Perfect for this time of year, when the sunsets are longer. It bleeds low behind the fading bricks of the faraway houses, the inner city high-rises, and if you angled yourself correctly it’s almost as if they lean on the sun itself. 

“This is the real reason why I chose this place,” Hoseok says. “Saw this sunset and knew.”

“I didn’t know you were so sappy.” You scrunch your face like you’ve been fed something sour. He laughs. 

“How else do you think I get all the hot ladies?” He teases. You stop at that. It suddenly occurs to you that Hoseok is a man who’s lived a million lives just as you have, and just as nothing stopped you from trying to date around (re: hot pharmacy man), the same laws should apply to him, too. 

You aren’t hurt, but it does cut a little. And before you can stop yourself, you ask: “Are any hot ladies coming over anytime soon?”

He sounds like he chokes. “God no.”

“Oh.”

“I – it’s boring stuff. Just. No. Maybe there could have been, but no.”

In your heart of hearts, you believe he’s stuttering because he’s embarrassed. But a part of you wishes he’s trying to appease the part of you that’s bristling, like he knows it’s not information you want to hear. It’s almost like a puppy nipping at their owner for forgiveness, though why would he want to be apologizing?

(Unless.)

“Okay,” you say. You try not to think too hard. “Sorry. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Your top lip is sweaty. Every crease in your body is sweaty. You’re also very much aware that Hoseok is looking at you like he wants to say more, but he just hangs his head low. “Thanks. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You know.” He wipes his brow. “Anything, really. Plans for the summer. Hot men to woo. Or hot ladies, I don’t know.”

You watch the sun set lower. It’s cooler now, and the cicadas are humming loudly. “I… no. I’m not really… I don’t know.”

Good lord. You have the strangest feeling to cut open all your guts and let Hoseok see you for everything you are. He does it so easily, to you. This is the universal truth that’s defined your existence since he entered your life.

“Ugh. I’d offer you beer to cheers for being lonely but you’re driving.” He pouts. “Fuck. Sorry. I don’t want to keep you any longer than you want to stay.”

“I don’t mind.” And because you like to torture yourself, you add: “Not if it’s you.”

(You can almost hear your brother’s voice. You’re so easy. The you in your head gives him a sucker punch and says: Well maybe I like to be easy! The Boppa in your head also kicks him in the shin. You think she’d be cheering you on.)

Hoseok’s eyes widen. “Really.” It’s not a question but a reaction, and Mind-Boppa gives you a fist bump.

“Yeah. Or you can tell me if that was weird. Like. Really. You can.” You’re about to ramble more but Hoseok interrupts you.

“No!” He says this a little too loudly. You flinch. “Sorry. No. No. That wasn’t weird.”

For the umpteenth time today you almost burst into tears. It’s everything sweet and bad and hot pressing in on you, and is Hoseok smiling? He’s laughing. You’re about to spontaneously combust and he’s cackling like he’s cracked the code of something. You must look horrified, because he starts to flounder.

“I’m–sorry. I’m sorry. Please. I’m not laughing at you. I’m just gonna ask you something, and I want you to walk out on me and forget everything I’m about to say if you choose to. Does that sound good?”

You think: it’s hot when he takes initiative.

You say: nothing.

You: nod for him to continue.

“Can I please treat you to dinner for fixing my kitchen for me?”

Catholics say the universe was created in seven days. Hoseok bursts and collides five hundred of them with one question.

“Will you pay for me?” You ask.

“Yes.”

“Do I have to look pretty?”

“You’re always pretty to me,” he says.

“What if I say no?”

“Then I’ll pretend I never asked you and you can go woo another hot person. But I prefer you don’t.”

The sun has set. There’s pink in the sky, and there’s pink in your eyes. You wonder if your pupils have turned heart-shaped. 

“Then my answer is yes,” you decide.

.

.

.

When you sit in the driver’s seat, you think about Hoseok’s smile and what you’d do to keep it there. Then, you declare to your driving wheel, “I’m going to kill Yoongi,” then pull off into traffic.

.

.

.

Hoseok closes the door behind him, and slides down with his back against the wood. “Yoongi’s going to kill me,” he says to himself.

[suusoh]

gonna b slightly honest here. but i've been losing my writing flow lately because of how terribly shy i've gotten..... which, is really ironic and no bueno for a blog that's built and thrived on being shameless at the start 💀

[musubiki]

once again thinking about limes very quick descent into madness surrounding the time when he realizes he might like mochi after the first night he spends cuddling with her. always love the slow start of "Okay she's kinda cute I guess. She has cute tendencies sometimes. There, you happy? I admitted it. Now leave me alone." which in the span of about 3 days RAPIDLY spills into being unable to think about anything else to the point he can barely hold a conversation with anyone because his mind keeps daydreaming back to holding her in his arms. All day feeling like "I can still feel her warmth on me..." and has to keep being snapped back to reality by everyone around him

he can barely even talk to mochi because he keeps thinking about it. has no idea what to say to her the next day. is very quiet. and mochi thinks hes mad/uncomfortable with her now, since hes always so standoffish to girls at school she thinks she might be in that category now. so the next night while lime is about to go to bed, STILL THINKING ABOUT IT, and he gets a text from her that reads something like: [Hey lime!! about last night- sorry i fell asleep on you!! i know your not super comfortable with that stuff!! it wont happen again!! 🙇‍♀️ see you tomorrow!] and he feels his heart drop to his fucking stomach. lays there reading it back over and over with his thoughts a mix of "Yeah I guess that makes sense, it happened by accident. It was never gonna be a repetitive thing." vs "Won't happen again...? Like....ever? Are you fucking kidding me? I never get that ever again?"

eventually after an hour of tossing and turning, thinks up some bullshit excuse to sneak over to her house and climb up over her little bedroom balcony, knocks on her window and says something like "Hey uhhh you forgot one of your socks over at my place so I brought it back." or something that is absolutely stupid and could've definitely waited for the next day. manages to weasel his way into crawling into her bed with her because every bone in his body is telling him to.

huheuheu love to see lime aching for her eheheh

[e-rated-beardo]

ashdfkajsgfjhksadf @brenna brenna brennaaaaaaa

look there are SO many things i cannot do and many of them are the things you'd expect adults to do in order to uphold a normal life ok

but in general my secret sauce is: (1) have unhealthy amount of hyperfocus (2) be a (recovering) perfectionist (3) if you can't do a thing, pretend it doesn't exist 🫠🙃

Thank youuuuu sdfsadfsdfasafd

I've made an internet friend cry today

Ok ok I'm being a little shit with that title, hang on...

So there's this one fanfic by @klikandtuna which I'm sort of feral about, all right? It's a time travel romance with excruciating moral conundrums and cute ineffable husbands and the fluffiest smut you can imagine, and also gorgeous art. (Come see me scream hilarously in the comments.)

In this story, there's this lullaby. The mother of one of the mains sang it to him when he was little. He hums it and sings it sometimes.

Anyway, uh - here, I've recorded it

As a bonus because I couldn't bloody well stop myself once I'd got started, I also recorded a little snippet of chapter 10, where Azekiel sings the lullaby to Crowley for the first time. You'll find both recordings on AO3, here ya go:

(There's been issues with the players not playing the things - I'm fiddling with it, dw, and the download links all work fine)

[crossbackpoke-check]

Dysprosium, Mary Soon Lee

dysprosium, AN 66, is a silvery-white rare earth metal. its name is derived from the greek dysprositos, meaning “hard to get at”, owing to the difficulty in separating and isolating this rare earth element. dysprosium is used to measure neutron flux, to fuel reactors, and to activate phosphors. terfenol-d is a magnetorestrictive alloy, meaning that it changes shape when a magnetic field is applied, and is used to manufacture underwater acoustic systems.

jason “robo” robertson, dallas stars #21 for @simmyfrobby’s nhl periodic table poems <3

[townslore]

discovery of the day

[musical-chick-13]

Ugh, I'm two seconds away from writing a DW Character Analysis™ post re: River in the Christmas special, and I need somebody to stop me.